Gino aka bw is an Argentinian-born, Munich-based DJ and producer who also runs his own self-titled label, alongside the Balls Baile party series and imprint, currently on hiatus. The local artist’s forte has always been sleek and effective Techno marked by stylish understatement.
Now, after a year-long break, he returns with his debut album. Bleeps Don’t Cry offers an immersive and refreshingly cool-spin on dub-laced Techno and Ambient, and bw is set to play our upcoming Cruise on Saturday, 14 June 2025, alongside Ogazón and Don Williams.
We had a few questions for bw about the album, its origins, his label’s past, present and future — and, of course, what he’s planning for his upcoming Cruise debut.
Give the album a spin while you dive into the conversation — and don’t forget to follow bw online to stay up to date on future plans, gigs and releases.
Find out more about our upcoming Cruise on SAT 14/07: CRUISEINFOS
Instagram / Soundcloud / Balls Baille / bw [imprint]
Hi Gino! Let’s start with the essentials: What does your artist name “bw” stand for?
Hi! Thanks for having me, I love talking about music. As for the name, the answer is hidden in one of the track titles on the album. I can’t say more than that, because the story behind it is pretty boring haha.
Your debut album Bleeps Don’t Cry dropped in late May 2025. On Instagram, you mentioned wanting to explore how your favourite sounds in Techno—the bleeps—might “cry,” after immersing yourself in guitar and trumpet solos from Frank Zappa to Miles Davis.
Is the album title a nod to The Cure, considering the similarly eerie moods you explore? And is the answer really that bleeps don’t cry?
You’re the first one to catch the nod to The Cure, glad you asked. Boys Don’t Cry has always been a song I loved, and also a quiet, powerful critique of the macho world we still live in, wherever you are. Just like men are told not to cry, it often feels like techno isn’t supposed to be expressive or show any vulnerability either. It’s meant to be dark, strong, emotionless, or just a soundtrack for partying. I don’t have anything against that, especially the partying and having fun hah but I do think there’s more to it.
So yes, the answer is that bleeps do cry. I made them cry. They made me cry. But they also lift me up, make me dance, and bring me joy.
What were your key influences while writing the album? You’ve spoken about emotional turmoil being a major factor that led you to step back from performing. What else shaped the process?
The emotional state I was in was the key influence. This album was really just a way for all that pent-up emotion to come out, a form of catharsis. But at the same time, everything I’ve absorbed over the years—from music to movies to books—started to blend together in a way I hadn’t expected. You can hear it in the textures and moods of the album, the way it ebbs and flows, maybe even in the storytelling. It’s like all those little pieces of me came together at once to create this.
The album’s two sides are notably distinct: Side A moves through haunting ambient soundscapes, while Side B dives into deep, dubby Techno. Why are all the track titles on Side A in Spanish, and those on Side B in English? What’s the story behind that contrast?
It came almost instinctively, but now that you ask, I think it’s because the A Side feels like a deeper, more intimate space, like speaking to yourself in your native tongue. It’s private. The B Side, though, feels like reaching out, speaking in a language you’ve learned, but one that’s not truly yours. After so many years of living in places where I had to adapt to other languages, I just reached a point where I was tired and just wanted to speak and hear Spanish — such a beautiful and rich language. To reconnect with it, that flows from me without thinking, where I don’t have to force the words.
The closing track, “Not”, stands out with its weighty title. Why did you choose that word to close the record?
Closing the album with a track that’s so simple (just four layers) but emotionally intense needed a title that carried weight. And this album, being a statement of everything I am and have lived through, it also felt important to acknowledge what I’m not, what I don’t want, what I refuse to become, no matter the status quo out there. “I am not” was the original title.
Later, I shortened it to “Not”, which in German means both urgency and emotional distress—like being in need, in pain, or out of options. In that sense, the album was just that: a personal emergency.
For the gear heads among us: Can you walk us through your production process—from early ideas and techniques to final track selection?
I like to work very fast, it helps me let things out without my mind stepping in to filter or judge. It’s the best way I’ve found to bypass the mind in those initial phases. If nothing comes out in 20, 30 minutes or an hour, I just stop and do something else. Later, I come back to it. If I like that first sketch (usually just a short loop and a couple of channels), I save it. Then I let it sit. I let it rest and mature for days or even weeks before touching it again.
Then I start reviewing and selecting the sketches I like the most, transforming them into full tracks and seeing how they hold up. If they still work, I keep developing them—but never on consecutive days. I always let them sit. That pause helps me hear them with fresh ears.
When I go back to it, if it still moves me, I keep developing it. That pause is important for me; it protects me from the momentum that can trick you into thinking something’s good just because it’s new. Years ago, I’d spend hours looping a fresh sketch, getting hypnotized. That’s dangerous. It lies to you. And it fatigues your ears as well.
I always work on dozens of sketches at once. For the album, I must’ve made over 120. To keep track of everything, I use a little notebook where I write down each project. I like to give them codes—combinations of letters and numbers—instead of names. It keeps things abstract at first, and also a bit playful.
You’ve previously run the Balls Baile imprint. Why did you decide to launch a new, self-titled label for your debut album instead of releasing it on Balls Baile? And what’s the current status of that earlier project?
This is actually my ninth release on my own imprint. That’s how I got started more than four years ago, going at my own pace. I’ve always liked doing things in a DIY way—maybe it’s also a bit of the Argentine mindset, figuring things out for yourself without relying too much on others or rules. When I plan to release something, the first option is always doing it on my own Bandcamp. If it happens that a label reaches out, then I’ll consider releasing it with them.
As for Balls Baile, the project is on pause. About a year and a half ago, when I had to step back from everything (job, gigs, music), I put Balls Baile on hold too. Right now, I’m focused on my own music, on rebuilding things from a more personal place. Balls Baile might come back someday, but for now, I’m taking it one step at a time.
That said, I’m really proud of what we did with it. We only released singles, almost like artist calling cards. Each one had a unique vibe, lots of personality, and zero pressure to fit into a trend. It was loose, free-spirited—just like the parties we threw. They felt more like a house party amongst friends than a club night.
Complete the sentence: Munich wouldn’t be the same without…
…
the Isar, the forest, the parks.
And: Munich would be better with
… …more sun!
Let’s talk about the new label: Do you have more releases or projects planned for it in the near future?
During the second half of the album process, especially toward the end, I started setting aside ideas that I liked but that didn’t really fit the album’s concept. I’ve been slowly working on those since then, and they might become future releases. Whether they’ll come out on my own label or somewhere else, I honestly don’t know yet. Right now, I just want to keep making music without any particular goal. That’s how it works for me.
Your upcoming set at Cruise will be your third DJ appearance at Blitz.
What’s the most curious thing that’s happened to you at the club so far?
And what can we expect from your set this time around?
I really love the first slot, warming things up. Starting to play when the dancefloor is still empty and slowly seeing people come out and start dancing is the best part. I like to build the energy gradually, creating an inviting vibe that makes everyone want to approach the dancefloor, especially at the beginning. The moment when you lift your head and realize the floor has suddenly filled up always gives me a good boost.
Now that I’m presenting the album, the first slot feels perfect. I can’t wait to hear how those A-side tracks sound on the Void!
Last but not least—our classic closing question: What piece of music—an album, live show, mix, or otherwise—has moved you recently, beyond the realm of self-promotion or networking?
Although not electronic, I keep coming back to C. Tangana’s Tiny Desk.