Alex Kazemi Wants to Rule the World

So why are more people not talking about him? American Psycho author Bret Easton Ellis counts him as “his favorite millennial provocateur,” and even Taylor Swift has posted a quote of his writing to her Instagram, and of course, his iconic guest edit for both King Kong and King Kong Garçon magazines, where because of him, Diplo ended up in drag. To the naked eye, it would be normal to assume that along with Kazemi’s ever-expanding CV and work ethic, he could one day become a household name.

Perhaps this possibility is rooted in his commitment to living life off the grid (he famously detests all forms of social media), wrapped up in a penchant for the occult. Such complex duality as a millennial seems foreign in the age of Tik Toks and virtual chatter—there’s also the fact that Kazemi believes himself to be a sort of heir to the Illuminati throne. It was to be expected, then, that this self-described “Illuminati Prince” would eventually write a manual on how he’s been able to live such a colorful life.

Enter Pop Magick. Described as an “anarchist response to both today’s pop culture and modern occult literature” and a “simplified self-help how-to guide to applying the spiritual worlds of witchcraft, magick, and alchemy in your everyday life,” it marks Kazemi’s entree into the literary world, released during the comedown of a magazine scandal (see below). Citing easy-to-follow instructions on how to basically get what you want and how to reach within to foster a better sense of empowerment, you can see why celebrities like Rose McGowan (who wrote the forward), Bella Thorne, and Marilyn Manson have sung its praises. Of course, there are innumerable nuances to the practices Kazemi outlines and should be taken seriously. His ultimate goal is to have us all live up to our full, magickal potential as he’s been able to do. Such a selfless undertaking is what a lot us need right now, so it’s no wonder why we’ve fallen under his spell.

Ahead, read as Kazemi sheds light on the occult, spills secrets from his new book and offers some advice on how not to spend your time during quarantine.

Alex! When we first met, I tried looking for you on Instagram, but to no avail. Are you still anti-social media?  

The truth is I am not a pro-influencer or Instagram art society—I am with Kelly Cutrone on that subject. I am pro-art, and pro-creativity and I want to see a revolution in this decade of people rebelling against their screens, and really diving deep into their humanism, their empathy, and pulling out their artistic potential from the hadal-zone depths within themselves. I hope for young creatives who read Pop Magick, a portal becomes open for them and they are awakened to their full potential. I want to see creation, not curation.  

Was there a specific moment you realized you weren’t living up to your full potential?

I think anyone who has worked in the fashion publishing industry can tell you that it is the most insane, chaotic lifestyle and you start to be confused as to why you are subjecting yourself to such modern pain? To see your name in lights? For me, I realized the appeal was because deep down I had low self-worth, so I thought that if I could get the approval of celebrities, or have some type of position of power in which I could be used as a valuable-nepotism transaction with elite people, that I could feel a sense of belonging, approval and not feel so much like a loser. Now that I have grown out of it, I feel quite pathetic because unfortunately life is not about power, and receiving things for yourself and ego, life should be about helping others and creating impact, and when I receive letters from people saying my book changed their life, that means a lot more to me than me getting some attention to sustain a public image, or to stunt on my long list of enemies.

Why did you decide to write a book about magic[k]? Why now?

I wrote Pop Magick because I felt exhausted reading books on the occult that were so bloated, and starved of any real sense of direction that felt easy-to-follow. I wanted a book to start out the 2020s decade that had solutions, to handle the life interruptions and turmoils of being alive on this planet. So, I wanted to create the book I wanted to see in the world, and I willed that into existence. I even did a ritual on a Virgo full moon, for Rose McGowan to do the foreword—before the book was written, I sketched in a notebook “Pop Magick by Alex Kazemi, Foreword by Rose McGowan.” I want anyone who reads the book, to feel inspired to create their own [Madonna] Ray of Light era, rather than wonder what it was like but to do the work on yourself. To follow your soul’s instincts and manifest your dreams.

I love that Madonna album! Speaking of pop stars, I’m curious. What does the modern day pop star represent to you?

I love the album too! Ray Of Light is a masterpiece on the secrets of magick and kabbalah. I think pop stars are the new gods and goddesses. Ariana Grande stans find spiritual salvation in Ariana, in the same way a republican finds trust and hope in Jesus. I think false-worship is a dangerous symptom of the disconnection people feel in our world due to spending so much time on technology. I say, fuck worship. Be the change you want to see in the world. You are as equal, and as powerful as your icons—do not view yourself as separate, or less than.

What’s your sign? Are you a Scorpio? You talk about sex a lot in the book…

I am a Cancer. I felt like I had to! By design, I cannot separate sex and romance from each other. Sex to me is one of the most powerful intimate magickal rituals that a human can participate in. It’s sacred and serious—it’s for a full moon night—not through impulse or reactionary behavior or temporary horniness. I think our generation has this reputation of being so hyper-sexual and hookup app-obsessed. I don’t feel like that experience is even real, for people who are out there, who do not agree with abiding by the expectations of a collapsed society, like myself.

What role does work play in your life? Do you consider yourself a workaholic?

100%! I am a diagnosed workaholic. Work rules every area of my life, you can imagine how difficult that is for anyone who tries to step into my rigid, controlled, goal-oriented and routined world that I am the dictator of—but if I wasn’t absolutely focused, and disciplined, then how could I accomplish anything? There are so many distractions in our world for creatives, and you need to protect yourself and have tools to disconnect. That’s why I want people to deprogram from technology rather than unify themselves with it and worship it like a false god. You can’t understand your full potential until you do a screen detox.  

Word. How would you describe your perception of reality?

I’m quite confused about what reality is. Look, I think I lost all sense of reality when Mirwais took me backstage at Madonna in LA—I mean, you can only imagine what that experience does to one’s brain. Ever since that day, I kind of have felt like reality is a simulation, that can be hacked, and we can invent our own reality and we can edit, and curate how we define reality to our own will which is kind of what doing pop magick is.  

I love that. Would you say that’s been a driving force for you in releasing the book?

Oh, totally. I couldn’t wait around for other people to start creating the things that I wanted to see in pop, and I had to do some deals, some sacrifices… to be here, with you right now.

When you came out as demisexual, members of the LGBT community were sent into a frenzy and prompted what’s now known as “The Out scandal.” What was that experience like and what did it teach you?

I prefer to remain sexually ambiguous. The [Out] scandal was depressing. People sent me emails, calling me a faggot and that I should “just come out as gay” when that’s totally not my experience or reality, so when strangers are calling you something that you are not, it’s incredibly bizarre, it creates a kind of confusion, you start to doubt yourself—“Was all that time I spent sexually attracted to women and dating women, just a lie…?” Obviously, that is nonsense, because nobody can fake their body’s natural instincts. This is why I think the bullying of Shawn Mendes online, and this obsession with outing him as gay, needs to stop but I see now that the queer community were pushing the label “gay” on me, because the way I decided to describe myself, challenged them. Isn’t that the definition of queerness, existing outside of the norm? Luckily, I am not asking to be accepted or understood. I don’t need to be. I just do what I want, when I want to do it. I don’t think the gender of who I am fucking and dating is anyone’s business.  

Do you have any advice for all of us in quarantine? How can we find magic in a disenchanting time?

Advice for quarantine is to not go on YouTube or TikTok binges, to not use the internet, to not listen to Hari Nef on Red Scare but to read books, and watch films, to reconcile a relationship with the interests you forgot about due to your life being ruled by productivity and to start to do some self-work on yourself, and start to plan and figure out who you want to be when this is over, and try to think of all the things that you took for granted in everyday life, that you now extremely appreciate since it’s been stripped from you. The internet can only provide a false sense of comfort, for only so long—reality will always hit.  

Do you feel misunderstood, Alex?

I think there’s this huge misconception about me, in people’s gut reactions about me that do hurt me, I have heard a lot of people have said behind my back, that I just am this wicked, ruthless human-calculator trying to climb to the top? I don’t know what their idea of the top is, because that’s different for everyone. I can see how people can view me as unapologetic, and ambitious, and I think I am someone who knows exactly what I want. I think that terrifies people. To me, the top would be one day having a New York Times bestseller and writing all the books I want to see and read in the world, and [witness] people whose lives are changed my book. I do want to rule the world, and I’m not ashamed of that.

Culture

The Club Is Coming to the Stage

We enter and make our way to what is approximately front left of the DJ booth, where we’re accustomed to dancing at clubs in New York. “So is this a techno club or a dance performance?” yells an uncertain participant in my boyfriend’s ear. He laughs, bouncing along to Ben UFO, and yells back, “It’s both!” The club has long been a hot topic in European contemporary dance but it is only now making its way into New York performance venues, largely through transatlantic tours. R.O.S.E. follows recent examples like Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1 (May 2024), (LA)HORDE’s Room with a View at NYU Skirball (October 2023), and Gisèle Vienne’s Crowd at BAM (October 2022).

Do these performances compromise the club’s spirit — a space idealized for its anonymity, dark lighting, and thundering music? The notion of the club as a utopian escape is admittedly just that — an ideal — because of how its intense conditions can create barriers to entry. Still, the club remains sacred for many, a place to forge connections and embrace an alternative state of being. Looking at how performances transfer this spirit to new settings reveals what aspects of the club are essential and those that aren’t.

Sharon Eyal, R.O.S.E. 2024. Photography by Stephanie Berger, courtesy of Park Avenue Armory.

Eyal’s dancers make their entrance. The lighting shifts from roving blue to yellow spotlights as Ben UFO’s tracks transition to more melodic beats. Clad in deconstructed lace Dior lingerie with dark red tears painted on their faces, the dancers move cautiously in a tightly maintained pack, slicing paths through the horde with hoof-like steps and jerky leg extensions. After around ten minutes of this controlled choreography, the dancers vanish as the lighting shifts back to blue and Ben UFO picks up his dubby beats. The club, as we knew it, resumes. This cycle of tightly executed movements and free-flowing club-goers repeats several times, each time emboldening the dancers to plunge further into the crowd.

Clubbing in a building once built for the U.S. Army National Guard on Manhattan’s Upper East Side turns out to be surprisingly successful — at least for the audience. What starts as an awkward, scattered group searching for their non existent seats gradually gels into an engaged, bouncing crowd that erupts in cheers each time the dancers enter and exit. Performance patrons who might never step foot in a club find themselves swept up in its potential for communion, moving in unison with fellow ticket holders. But it isn’t until the very end of R.O.S.E. that the dancers finally break free from Eyal’s choreography and join the fired-up audience in a brief moment of improvisatory movement with the music. By keeping her dancers at arm’s length, Eyal seems more interested in the club as a backdrop for her signature movement style than wholly as a space with meaningful stories to be told.

Michele Rizzo, HIGHER xtn. 2024. Photography by Cameron Kelly courtesy of MoMA PS1.

Back in May, I attended Wire Festival, a multiday electronic music event at Knockdown Center that had no shortage of organically united dancefloors. It attracted a crowd of seasoned ravers who were eager to celebrate the start of spring as they danced alongside DJs who played well into the daylight. I left Wire in an afternoon daze to see Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1. My sleepless euphoria only deepened as the performance unfolded, starting with a lone dancer who looked plucked out of the festival.

The dancer, dressed in sneakers, baggy jeans, and a tight tank top, shuffled slowly into the gallery, perfectly in sync with the looping bars of an understated electronic melody. Soon, other dancers, clad in the same staple rave uniform, joined him — each having traveled from Europe for the U.S. museum debut of HIGHER xtn., which premiered at the Stedelijk in Amsterdam in 2018 and quickly became a fixture at kunsthalles and festivals across the continent. As the score’s tempo climbed, the choreography locked into a 16-count sequence, which the dancers executed with precise synchrony. They remained intensely focused, never making eye contact with each other, as they sought release in the endless repetition of synthesized beats. Once the dancers reached their limit, they stopped the sequence and exited the gallery, one by one.

HIGHER xtn. used the focused daylight of the gallery to highlight the meditative release found in the repetitive movements that dominate dark dancefloors. The performance’s restraint brought more consistency and intentionality than Eyal’s all-encompassing club construction in R.O.S.E. Yet both performances offer enticing entry points into club culture for those who may not frequent raves. Rizzo’s ecstatic, hypnotic repetitions reveal how the club can mirror other meditative practices, while Eyal’s interpolation of performance and clubbing helped hesitant audience members blossom by the end. Still, both works overlook one of the most underappreciated aspects of clubbing — its potential for individual expression. HIGHER xtn.’s pristine uniformity especially risks promoting the outdated techno trope that there’s a “right” way to dance to electronic music.

Maybe this shortcoming is, in fact, a benefit. For habitual ravers jaded by one too many sunrise sets, it’s a reminder to return to the club with more intention. If you pause and peer through the darkness, you’ll see hundreds of people moving to the same beat, each with their own subtle variations. This collective choreography is a ready-made spectacle that doesn’t need validation in a theater or museum. And when the music shifts slightly, you can watch the ripple effect sweep through the crowd while feeling the new beat in your body. Maybe this small bit of magic is best left on the dance floor.

Culture

Real Slick, Jack: Psyche Organic Arrives in New York

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Culture

Porsche SCOPES Brings Art, Music, and Design to Toronto

The festival was a full immersion into Toronto’s dynamic creative energy. Day one set the tone with DJ collective Living Room, followed by an experimental performance by Claire Rousay that captivated the crowd. Jewelry designer Steff Eleoff unveiled her Porsche Taycan 4S art car installation—a bold fusion of automotive and wearable art inspired by her Sedona ring—while OVO Sound’s Naomi Sharon and DVSN wrapped up the night with powerful, genre-defying performances.

We witnessed SCOPES Toronto bridging underground and mainstream with day two’s lineup. DJ Korea Town Acid’s set paved the way for Angelphroot and Dameer’s debut of BASSMATI, a track blending South Asian influences with bass-driven sounds. Chippy Nonstop’s return to Toronto and Richie Hawtin’s extended set were milestones of the evening, proving that the city’s underground scene has a global resonance.

The final day featured standout performances from local pianist Harrison, Indigenous artist Tia Wood, and hip-hop visionary Sean Leon, who elevated his set with a live choir. Moonshine Collective’s film and musical performance explored themes of African utopia, showcasing art’s power to bridge culture and technology. Rising Toronto star SadBoi, who paused her tour to perform at SCOPES, further underscored the festival’s commitment to nurturing local talent.

Throughout the weekend, we experienced installations from artists like Mitsu Mitsu and culinary creations from Bar Mordecai, capturing the multifaceted creativity Porsche SCOPES brought to Toronto. This milestone 10th edition, open to all, allowed Toronto’s vibrant arts scene to thrive, underscoring SCOPES’ mission to celebrate local talent while connecting it to a global audience.

office had the chance to connect with rising star SadBoi ahead of the event. In our conversation, she shared insights into her creative journey and reflected on what performing and growing up in Toronto means to her and her work.

How are you, and where are you at right now? You told me you were traveling.

Um, I’m good, I’m feeling really good right now. I’m traveling back to Salt Lake City. I had a show yesterday in Seattle. I’m on tour right now with Coco and Claire.

How is touring life treating you? Do you like it?

I love being on the road. To be honest, I feel like I don’t know—like I’ve had good experiences and bad ones—but this time it’s really fun, especially with the people I’m surrounded by. It’s also the longest tour I’ve been on; I have about four more weeks to go. I’m trying not to think about how many days I have left.

Do you feel homesick?

Yes, because when I start thinking about how many days are left, I start to miss my dogs. I’ve just been trying to stay in the moment—I don’t even know what day of the week it is, to be honest with you.

Oh, sweet! What are your dogs’ names?

Jillian and Winston. I know, they’re crazy names.

You’ll be performing at SCOPES in Toronto, which is where you grew up. Do you feel like the crowd is different when you perform in Toronto compared to other cities?

Yes, I mean, Toronto just feels different because it’s home. Every time I come back to perform, something in my career has changed. The last time I performed in Toronto, people just wanted to have a good time, and I’m excited to perform back home again to see everyone’s reactions. I know it’s going to be different from the last time. It’s exciting to see your own growth. Toronto is a tough crowd, though. If we’re with you, we’re really with you.

So, they’re super picky? You have to gain their respect, or what is it?

I think Toronto people are in their own world, but when something really connects with them, they’ll lose themselves in the moment. But it takes something to bring them out of that. Toronto crowds are tough because even if they like you, they won’t show it outright until they’re really vibing with you.

It’s like a vibe check, right?

Exactly. They’ll enjoy your performance, but it’s hard to explain. When people visit Toronto, they often say, “Oh, you guys are so nice,” and I’m like, “I don’t think we’re that nice, we’re just polite.” Like, you can walk down the street, and no one will say anything, but it’s just our mannerisms.

You mentioned Toronto can have a moody energy, especially at night, and that the underground night scene there really inspires you. Can you talk more about what makes Toronto's nightlife so influential for you?

Absolutely, Toronto has this unique energy that comes alive at night. Similar to New York, there are the popular clubs everyone knows, but you need to find your niche—the people who know where the real parties are. I remember going to raves in high school yards, sneaking in because I wasn’t old enough. Events like Baby, Jerk!, and Yes Yes Y’all were pivotal, exposing me to DJs blending dancehall with EDM—something I hadn’t seen before. Toronto nightlife is moody and intense, but when everyone’s out, it’s like the whole city is alive.