Diplo Is Workin' 5 TO 9

He survived the EDM boom, has courted countless controversies, and against all odds, somehow reinvented himself as a perfect (and hilarious) celebrity for the Instagram age. Gabriella Paiella goes deep inside the relentless, globetrotting and often shirtless world of the one and only Diplo

- Gabriella Paiella

5PM. CHARLOTTE, NORTH CAROLINA. the personal photographer’s in the boot. Diplo’s riding shotgun. I’m squeezed into the back seat next to the rest of his crew, about to begin the longest night of my life, which is just a normal night for Diplo: three shows in two different states. The plan tonight is to start with a 9.30pm set, and end sometime around 6am after a performance at a strip club.

‘Holy shit, that’s insane,’ our driver, Jeff, says when he hears about the schedule. He puts his foot down on the the accelerator, and his luxury SUV careens forward.

Jeff, I should mention, is Jeff Gordon. As in NASCAR legend Jeff Gordon. And, as it turns out, big Diplo fan JeffGordon. The two met at Madonna’s Oscar party a few years ago. Then Gordon was at Burning Man, waiting to watch the sunrise over the playa in his fuzzy Burning Man hat, when he looked over and, what do you know? There was Diplo, getting ready to DJ.

Diplo flew here from an allnighter, though you’d be forgiven for thinking he arrived on horseback from the ’70s. He’s wearing a denim Wrangler shirt, flared black jeans that give way to beige snakeskin cowboy boots, and sleazy orange-tinted glasses. His dirty-blonde hair hangs to his shoulders, and a single, gold front tooth twinkles away.