Danz CM’s path into music feels distinctly of a certain era: growing up upstate, discovering bands on forums, running a music blog as a teenager, and DJing downtown before she was even old enough to be in the room. What she does now—releasing her own records, running Synth History, evolving from Computer Magic into a broader sonic palette, directing videos, curating screenings—still carries that same DIY throughline.

Launched in 2019, Synth History began as an Instagram account sharing clips of musicians and their synths before expanding into a website and a zine. As it’s grown—into a podcast, playlists, interviews, and a film series—the project continues to echo those early-internet instincts: go deep on a niche, follow the curiosity, archive what sparks. What started as a side project has become an entire ecosystem, all built on an intuitive, self-directed process: make the thing you want to see; don’t wait for permission.

This piece looks at Danz’s work, her world, and how New York has shaped the universe she continues to build.

Hillary Sproul: Tell me a bit about your background—when did music first become a passion for you?

Danz CM: I grew up in Sullivan County in upstate New York. Most of my childhood was spent in Davos in Woodridge, and then Rock Hill as a teenager—a very small-town kind of vibe. I don’t know what first drew me to music, but I became obsessed in my early teens. I spent a lot of time online, discovering artists through forums. I had a job at a pizza place and spent all my money on vinyl from a site called EIL, and I’d buy imported NME magazines at a mall 30–40 minutes away in Middletown. I started a music blog when I was around 15.

When I graduated high school, I moved to NYC to attend Hunter. I’d get DJ gigs through the blog—bouncers would sneak me into clubs because I was only 18! Eventually, I discovered I could make music by ear, pretty much by accident. Synths were the most accessible instrument for creating songs in Ableton, and from there, my interest grew.

HS: Did you visit the city a lot before you actually moved here?

DC: My mom and stepdad would take me to the city every now and then. I loved it and couldn’t stand the drive back home. As a kid, I dreamed of moving there.

One time in high school, I met someone on MySpace, snuck out, and took the train to the city without telling anyone except one friend. No smartphone—sounds crazy when I think about it. I remember my first Brooklyn coffee shop: young people dressed like The Strokes, cool music playing—and coming from a small town, it was jaw-dropping.

When I moved down in fall 2007, I started DJing at places like The Annex and Dark Room in the LES, and the Tribeca Grand (now The Roxy). It was the tail end of the Meet Me in the Bathroom era. MisShapes had just ended. YYYs, LCD, The Strokes, Animal Collective, MGMT—all the coolest bands ever. Lots of parties.

Eventually, the scene changed as Pitchfork shifted toward mainstream music and smartphones took over. Indie parties started playing Top 40 ironically… then unironically. The scene fragmented. I left New York briefly to live with my mom in Florida—that’s when I started producing music. When I came back, I started playing live shows as Computer Magic at places like Glasslands, the Delancey, and Mercury Lounge.

HS: Computer Magic has been called bedroom pop. You run your own label and self-produce—did that come naturally?

DC: Self-producing always felt natural to me because it was a way to make music, just like running the label was a way to get it out. If I had money or industry connections early on, maybe I’d have found a producer. But I’ve always had this resourcefulness: no one is gonna do it for you; you have to do it yourself.

I was producing without even knowing that’s what it was called. I get antsy relying on others, and I’m a perfectionist anyway, so it works out. Now I outsource certain things like mastering, but recording and producing are a major part of it for me.

HS: When did you decide to retire Computer Magic and become Danz CM, and why?

DC: Around 2020. I had learned so much about recording techniques and didn’t feel I was making bedroom pop anymore. My setup became very hi-fi.

People thought Computer Magic was a band, which frustrated me because I had written every song. So I changed it to my nickname, Danz, and kept CM as a tribute. Some fans didn’t understand, but most were fine. Just growth.

HS: Does Synth History feel like an evolved version of your teenage blogging days?

DC: I sometimes think about that! Yeah, probably. I get absorbed in subjects and want to write about them. I get the urge to start other accounts—Roller Coaster History, Pinball History—but don’t have the time. I like sharing what I learn and archiving what I’m into. I’ll watch a movie, hear a cool score, and automatically think, “Oh, I gotta post about this on Synth History!” As if it’s a friend I have to tell.

HS: You’ve been hosting screenings and Synth History episodes. Tell me about the Roxy series.

DC: In LA, Synth History has an ongoing series with Vidiots called Iconic Scores, highlighting pioneering synth scores. We’ve had John Carpenter intro Assault on Precinct 13, Mark Mothersbaugh intro The Life Aquatic, premiered a Weyes Blood video before The Holy Mountain, and did Q&As with Gregg Araki and James Duval for Doom Generation.

For the Roxy screening, we showed Dario Argento’s Inferno with a score by Keith Emerson, and paired it with the first episode of Synth History on Ela Minus. The episode is online on the Synth History YouTube channel. We plan on making more, but it takes money and time.

HS: You also curated a synth collection for Criterion. Has film always been a big interest?

DC: The Criterion program was really fun. I think music and film go hand in hand. I love going to the movies—honestly, I go more now than to shows.

I’ve been getting more into filmmaking. In New York this past October, I shot a video for “Painting 793 AD” on Super 8, riding around the subway in a medieval helmet. I directed the Ela Minus doc on 16mm, 8mm, and MiniDV.

In January, a sci-fi video for “Over the Ocean” is coming out—edited and color-corrected by me under aliases. I just love to create, whatever the medium.

HS: You scored a doc about the NYC subway. Do you have a subway story of your own?

DC: I fell asleep once at 4 a.m. on the L train and ended up in Canarsie—still had all my stuff, thankfully! Another time, my wallet got stolen out of my back pocket on the way to South Street Seaport. My phone had died. I had to ask strangers for a swipe to get home. One kind soul gave me one, and now I always return the favor.

HS: How do you feel the music scene has changed since you first moved here?

DC: There was a major shift between the late 00s and early/mid-2010s. Smartphones became universal; attention spans got shorter; trends burned out faster. Spotify happened. Instagram happened. People started going to shows to be seen, not for the music. Discovery moved from MySpace and magazines to TikTok, owned by a giant corporation pushing addictive content. Sometimes scrolling feels like wearing the sunglasses from They Live.

I’m nostalgic for the era when the internet existed but wasn’t 24/7—the sweet spot. Albums you put on your iPod felt intentional. Shows felt intentional. You went to be part of something bigger. That still exists, but it feels watered down.

HS: What are your favorite NYC venues today?

DC: Elsewhere, Baby’s All Right, Union Pool.

HS: And if you had to pick, who is your most iconic NYC synth artist?

DC: Hmmm… I’m gonna have to say Suicide!

WORDS Hillary Sproul 

PHOTOGRAPHY Johann Flash