BYE FOR NOW.
A thank-you and farewell letter by NSNS Magazine founder Sophie Kuebler.
Writte 06th November 2026
BYE FOR NOW.
A thank-you and farewell letter by NSNS Magazine founder Sophie Kuebler.
Writte 06th November 2026
A thank-you and farewell letter by NSNS Magazine founder Sophie Kuebler.
Writte 06th November 2026
Dear readers, friends, colleagues, and everyone who has been part of NSNS Magazine,
After almost seven years, I’ve decided to close NSNS (short for Never Stop Never Stopping) and let it become an archive. A little museum of stories, conversations, photographs, videos, podcasts, residencies, events, essays, collaborations, and work created by others and myself, to revisit the past that led to the present.
NSNS was born out of my time in Mexico City, working first for Boiler Room, then opening Endémico, a Latin-only booking agency, and then YUYU Cine Club: the club we opened in 2017. I remember its first New Year’s Eve party in 2017 very well.
With YUYU, I quickly found myself welcoming and taking care of artists, musicians, DJs, and creatives from all over the world. The encounters led to interesting, often long-lasting conversations, friendships, and introductions to more of the electronic music world.
Through my work, I was quickly building relationships with other scenes, more people, and more music. YUYU became this transient place with transient people, conversations, and opportunities. But it gave us one major conversation, among locals in particular, that kept coming back:
How can we bring Latin American talent into the international conversation, into international media?
And I don’t mean simply getting artists booked or putting their names on lineups.
And so NSNS began in Mexico City in 2019, with a group of friends, a lot of ideas, and the ambition to create something meaningful. Among them were Pat, Edgar, David, Irma, Isaac, and many more. El Consultorio, an artist residency where I lived and worked, became NSNS’s first home.
At the time, I was deeply involved in Mexico City’s electronic music scene, surrounded by musicians, artists, DJs, photographers, and people with extraordinary ideas. There was so much happening, and we wanted to document it. We wanted a place to write about the stories unfolding around us, create our own platform, share work, exchange perspectives, meet interesting people, and explore the creative world we were part of.
The original mission was simple: to bring Latin American talent into the conversation, report from Mexico City, and tell the stories behind the artists.
The city hadn’t yet become the hotspot, the repertoire of platforms, the cluster of parties, and the regular destination for international DJs, artists, and creatives that it is now.
So we started small. A few friends writing, taking photographs, interviewing artists, making radio shows, producing events, and slowly building something together. Over time, things began to grow. We interviewed bigger names, found new opportunities, and brought more people into the project.
I remember one particular interview with DJ Gigola “Snippets Of A Browser Girl”. Edgar came up with the idea and did the interview, and I asked a brilliant fashion photographer, Hernán, to shoot the accompanying photographs. Isaac helped me produce it because I wasn’t in Mexico at the time, and Renata edited the piece. These were the moments when NSNS Magazine started to feel like more than an idea.
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Then the pandemic happened.
I published that interview with DJ Gigola while I was in Germany in March 2020, not knowing that I wouldn’t return to Mexico City for another three years.
Like so many things at the time, NSNS changed. What had started as a project rooted in a city and its people suddenly existed across countries, screens, and time zones.
Isaac was still on speed dial, and I was in WhatsApp conversations with people across Latin America, trying to make sense of the situation. I wasn’t entirely sure how to maintain the relationships and momentum we’d built since the beginning, or how to keep growing something that had been so connected to a particular place.
Rinse France was another important supporter of NSNS during that time. Luis and Laurent gave me a weekly two-hour slot on Rinse France, where we broadcast work and videos by artists from across Latin America for about a year.
That project eventually became CIRCA. Around 150 artists from across Latin America were invited to create their own two-hour broadcasts, with complete freedom to choose the lineup, format, or creative direction. I coordinated the project, bringing all those different contributions together.
Renata, a literature student from Mexico City, played an important role during those COVID years too, editing interviews, writing introductions, and conducting conversations herself. She was in Mexico City, I was in Heidelberg, and we were both working through lockdown.
Over the years, my life changed. My interests changed, my creative work changed, and I changed with it.
NSNS remained, sometimes more active, sometimes less. I’d redesign the website, change something on Instagram, publish a new interview, or start thinking about what the magazine could become.
But I couldn’t quite find the same spirit that had started it all. And still, I couldn’t let it go.
I think I understand now.
NSNS was my little garden.
NSNS was something I could take care of and feed whenever I had something to give. And in return, it gave me a beautiful view. A wider horizon. A sense of purpose. And in between all those ups and downs, I always came back to the two most important sources:
Mexico City and electronic music.
I held on to it because I love conversations with artists. I’m interested in the conditions we work under, the places we work from, our perspectives, and the ways we think. Each individual one, with a background as diverse as the scene itself.
I remember the moments behind every article, every podcast, and every piece that came out through NSNS. The conversations, the people, and the stories that might otherwise have passed me by.
As Anaïs Nin said: “We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”
For a long time, running the magazine was also a constant negotiation with myself. I was holding on not only to NSNS, but also to the person I had been when I started it.
But I know that, with a healthy mind, a love-filled heart, and an ever-expanding open mind, the time has come to close this door.
Not because NSNS has failed, or because I’ve lost interest in what it stood for. Quite the opposite. I think it has given me what I needed, and I can finally appreciate it for what it was rather than what I always imagined it could become.
How do I really feel sending this out to you? The truth is relief that I can move on, sadness because a big part of my life, and such a long time I’ve spent with it, has come to an end. But mostly, pride in having created something that is a witness to a vibe, a story, and a time machine of memories.
I want to thank everyone who contributed to NSNS over the years. Everyone who wrote, edited, photographed, shared an idea, agreed to an interview, or trusted me with their story. And most importantly, you, dear reader, for reading along.
One day I will find the words, and they will be simple.
What happens to NSNS?
The website will remain online, along with the Instagram page and Substack. All published articles will stay where they are, as will the radio shows and podcasts on SoundCloud and Mixcloud.
NSNS will become an archive rather than an active publication.
But not everything is coming to an end.
Searching for the Perfect Sound is moving
One part of NSNS that I want to continue is my column, Searching for the Perfect Sound.
It’s a weekly exploration of what the perfect sound might be. Whatever that means.
A feeling, an inner voice, an empty power plant.
There are two principles behind this search: perfection doesn’t exist, and sound is everywhere.
It isn’t always something we can simply record or play back. Sometimes it lives in a memory, an emotion, a particular space, or a thought. Sometimes it’s something we feel rather than hear.
Searching for the Perfect Sound will continue weekly on Never Stop Candy Bang, my new creative project with Pete Candeland.
If you’d like to continue receiving the column, you can subscribe here.
Never Stop Candy Bang, a podcast and audiovisual universe, is the next chapter.
I started it with my partner, Pete Candeland. We both work in the film industry, and we’re interested in what it means to keep making things, even when there’s no guarantee they’ll work. To remain curious, to experiment, and to accept that being an artist often means never quite arriving.
Pete is an animator, director, illustrator, and painter. I’m a sound designer, writer, and sound artist.
Through the podcast, we talk with friends, artists, filmmakers, and other creative people about the realities of making things. The projects that worked, the ones that didn’t, the uncertainty, the excitement, the frustration, and everything in between.
As Pete said during one of our discussions:
“We’ve had so many conversations about the industry, our projects, and the difficult truth that… we haven’t made it yet. But what we have created is a life full of creative attempts.”
Never Stop Candy Bang is about exactly that.
You can find the podcast on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and other major podcast platforms, and read Searching for the Perfect Sound weekly on Never Stop Candy Bang.
So this is goodbye to NSNS, but not to writing, storytelling, or curiosity.
Thank you for being part of it.
Sophie
If you with to contact me you can do that via: neverstopcandybang@gmail.com
After almost seven years, I’ve decided to close NSNS (short for Never Stop Never Stopping) and let it become an archive. A little museum of stories, conversations, photographs, videos, podcasts, residencies, events, essays, collaborations, and work created by others and myself, to revisit the past that led to the present.
With YUYU, I quickly found myself welcoming and taking care of artists, musicians, DJs, and creatives from all over the world. The encounters led to interesting, often long-lasting conversations, friendships, and introductions to more of the electronic music world.
Through my work, I was quickly building relationships with other scenes, more people, and more music. YUYU became this transient place with transient people, conversations, and opportunities. But it gave us one major conversation, among locals in particular, that kept coming back:
How can we bring Latin American talent into the international conversation, into international media?
And I don’t mean simply getting artists booked or putting their names on lineups.
And so NSNS began in Mexico City in 2019, with a group of friends, a lot of ideas, and the ambition to create something meaningful. Among them were Pat, Edgar, David, Irma, Isaac, and many more. El Consultorio, an artist residency where I lived and worked, became NSNS’s first home.
At the time, I was deeply involved in Mexico City’s electronic music scene, surrounded by musicians, artists, DJs, photographers, and people with extraordinary ideas. There was so much happening, and we wanted to document it. We wanted a place to write about the stories unfolding around us, create our own platform, share work, exchange perspectives, meet interesting people, and explore the creative world we were part of.
The original mission was simple: to bring Latin American talent into the conversation, report from Mexico City, and tell the stories behind the artists.
The city hadn’t yet become the hotspot, the repertoire of platforms, the cluster of parties, and the regular destination for international DJs, artists, and creatives that it is now.
So we started small. A few friends writing, taking photographs, interviewing artists, making radio shows, producing events, and slowly building something together. Over time, things began to grow. We interviewed bigger names, found new opportunities, and brought more people into the project.
I remember one particular interview with DJ Gigola “Snippets Of A Browser Girl”. Edgar came up with the idea and did the interview, and I asked a brilliant fashion photographer, Hernán, to shoot the accompanying photographs. Isaac helped me produce it because I wasn’t in Mexico at the time, and Renata edited the piece. These were the moments when NSNS Magazine started to feel like more than an idea.
Then the pandemic happened.
I published that interview with DJ Gigola while I was in Germany in March 2020, not knowing that I wouldn’t return to Mexico City for another three years.
Like so many things at the time, NSNS changed. What had started as a project rooted in a city and its people suddenly existed across countries, screens, and time zones.
Isaac was still on speed dial, and I was in WhatsApp conversations with people across Latin America, trying to make sense of the situation. I wasn’t entirely sure how to maintain the relationships and momentum we’d built since the beginning, or how to keep growing something that had been so connected to a particular place.
Rinse France was another important supporter of NSNS during that time. Luis and Laurent gave me a weekly two-hour slot on Rinse France, where we broadcast work and videos by artists from across Latin America for about a year.
That project eventually became CIRCA. Around 150 artists from across Latin America were invited to create their own two-hour broadcasts, with complete freedom to choose the lineup, format, or creative direction. I coordinated the project, bringing all those different contributions together.
Renata, a literature student from Mexico City, played an important role during those COVID years too, editing interviews, writing introductions, and conducting conversations herself. She was in Mexico City, I was in Heidelberg, and we were both working through lockdown.
Over the years, my life changed. My interests changed, my creative work changed, and I changed with it.
NSNS remained, sometimes more active, sometimes less. I’d redesign the website, change something on Instagram, publish a new interview, or start thinking about what the magazine could become.
But I couldn’t quite find the same spirit that had started it all. And still, I couldn’t let it go.
I think I understand now.
NSNS was my little garden.
NSNS was something I could take care of and feed whenever I had something to give. And in return, it gave me a beautiful view. A wider horizon. A sense of purpose. And in between all those ups and downs, I always came back to the two most important sources:
Mexico City and electronic music.
I held on to it because I love conversations with artists. I’m interested in the conditions we work under, the places we work from, our perspectives, and the ways we think. Each individual one, with a background as diverse as the scene itself.
I remember the moments behind every article, every podcast, and every piece that came out through NSNS. The conversations, the people, and the stories that might otherwise have passed me by.
As Anaïs Nin said: “We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”
For a long time, running the magazine was also a constant negotiation with myself. I was holding on not only to NSNS, but also to the person I had been when I started it.
But I know that, with a healthy mind, a love-filled heart, and an ever-expanding open mind, the time has come to close this door.
Not because NSNS has failed, or because I’ve lost interest in what it stood for. Quite the opposite. I think it has given me what I needed, and I can finally appreciate it for what it was rather than what I always imagined it could become.
How do I really feel sending this out to you? The truth is relief that I can move on, sadness because a big part of my life, and such a long time I’ve spent with it, has come to an end. But mostly, pride in having created something that is a witness to a vibe, a story, and a time machine of memories.
I want to thank everyone who contributed to NSNS over the years. Everyone who wrote, edited, photographed, shared an idea, agreed to an interview, or trusted me with their story. And most importantly, you, dear reader, for reading along.
One day I will find the words, and they will be simple.
What happens to NSNS?
The website will remain online, along with the Instagram page and Substack. All published articles will stay where they are, as will the radio shows and podcasts on SoundCloud and Mixcloud.
NSNS will become an archive rather than an active publication.
But not everything is coming to an end.
Searching for the Perfect Sound is moving
One part of NSNS that I want to continue is my column, Searching for the Perfect Sound.
It’s a weekly exploration of what the perfect sound might be. Whatever that means.
A feeling, an inner voice, an empty power plant.
There are two principles behind this search: perfection doesn’t exist, and sound is everywhere.
It isn’t always something we can simply record or play back. Sometimes it lives in a memory, an emotion, a particular space, or a thought. Sometimes it’s something we feel rather than hear.
Searching for the Perfect Sound will continue weekly on Never Stop Candy Bang, my new creative project with Pete Candeland.
If you’d like to continue receiving the column, you can subscribe here.
And so, Never Stop Candy Bang
Never Stop Candy Bang, a podcast and audiovisual universe, is the next chapter.
I started it with my partner, Pete Candeland. We both work in the film industry, and we’re interested in what it means to keep making things, even when there’s no guarantee they’ll work. To remain curious, to experiment, and to accept that being an artist often means never quite arriving.
Pete is an animator, director, illustrator, and painter. I’m a sound designer, writer, and sound artist.
Through the podcast, we talk with friends, artists, filmmakers, and other creative people about the realities of making things. The projects that worked, the ones that didn’t, the uncertainty, the excitement, the frustration, and everything in between.
As Pete said during one of our discussions:
“We’ve had so many conversations about the industry, our projects, and the difficult truth that… we haven’t made it yet. But what we have created is a life full of creative attempts.”
Never Stop Candy Bang is about exactly that.
You can find the podcast on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and other major podcast platforms, and read Searching for the Perfect Sound weekly on Never Stop Candy Bang.
So this is goodbye to NSNS, but not to writing, storytelling, or curiosity.
Thank you for being part of it.
Sophie
If you with to contact me you can do that via: neverstopcandybang@gmail.com