Brunch with…
an interview series from Flamingo.
We’ve always believed the best conversations happen around the table. Good food, good drink, good hospitality — and people with stories worth hearing.
This week, we’re joined by Abi Joy Lemon — DJ, ADHD coach, former brand agency owner, and south coast original — for the latest edition of Brunch with… at Flamingo.
Abi’s story isn’t a straight line. She was in the warehouses during the early nineties rave scene, working at Ministry of Sound at its commercial peak, running her own agency, building a coaching practice — and now, two years into a return to the decks she never should have left, she’s hosting her own show on Brixton Radio and playing the VIP lounge at Christchurch Music Festival this summer.
Over brunch, we talked music, the south coast, ADHD, imposter syndrome, and what it feels like to finally back yourself.
Let’s begin.
Abi, is brunch something you regularly make time for, or more of an occasional treat?
Actually, it fits really naturally into my routine. I go to the gym most days, so by the time I’m back, showered, and through the door, it’s about 11 o’clock and I’m starving. Brunch hits at exactly the right moment — and it’s just a really nice time to bring people together.
What makes a brunch genuinely memorable — the food, the company, the atmosphere?
All of it, really. But the company sets the tone. Good food and great people — that’s the combination.
Who would your dream brunch guest be, living or dead?
Oh God. I’d have to say Frankie Knuckles. Just to sit and talk about the origins of house music, the New York scene, what it felt like to be at the centre of something that changed everything. I think that conversation would be something else.
What caught your eye on the Flamingo menu today?
I went for the Big English — which was lovely — but I had also my eye on the Turkish eggs as well. That might be next time.
You were born in Taplow and moved around a lot growing up — Lymington, Milford-on-Sea, Banbury — before settling back on the south coast. How did all that moving shape you?
I think when it’s forced on you as a kid, you develop ways of communicating with all sorts of different people. You learn to fit in, to make new friends quickly, to be open. In hindsight, those are genuinely useful things. But the south coast is home — it always has been. The sea is my happy place. I don’t think I could ever live somewhere without it.
Music runs deep in your family — your dad on drums, your grandfather teaching music, your uncle writing and directing musicals. Was there ever a specific moment where you thought: this is going to be part of my life?
No. And I think that’s because there was never a version of life where it wasn’t. It was just always there. Whether it was picking up a guitar, being out at events, or DJing — it was never a question of whether, just how.
You taught yourself to mix at fifteen or sixteen on a friend’s belt-drive decks. What was it like being a young woman finding your way into what was then a very male-dominated world?
Honestly? I wanted to do it better than the boys. There was this moment where I thought, why are they doing this and not me? And when I had a go, I could. There was definitely a competitive edge to it early on.
But the culture around women in that scene back then was very different to what it is now. Less open, less welcoming — very much run by men. You had to find your way through it on your own terms. I think that shapes you too, in its own way.
You were out at raves hideously underage, as you put it. What was it like to be part of that early nineties scene?
Freaking amazing, honestly. I don’t think any of us realised at the time what we were part of. It was just people coming together to dance — in warehouses, at parties, in fields. Pure energy. I remember New Year’s Eve 1993 at the Sanctuary in Milton Keynes, standing in the middle of this packed warehouse while someone like DJ Dougal was playing, and just thinking: we will never stop doing this. We will always be doing this. That feeling was real.
Then comes Ministry of Sound — you worked there from 1996 to 2001, right at the peak of the London scene. What was the energy like being inside that world?
We were all kids, winging it. That’s the honest version. Young people with serious responsibility in our roles, most of us had never had a job like it. But the energy was off the charts. You’d finish work and go out to The End, Turnmills, Bagley’s — and being able to say you worked at Ministry of Sound opened every door. It was an endless party, but one you also worked incredibly hard inside of.
You were dabbling in DJing during that time but didn’t pursue it seriously. What held you back?
Fear, mainly. I was scared of what people would think — scared as a woman that it would be harder, scared I didn’t have what it took. Classic imposter syndrome, really. And then in 2001 I had my first child, and that was that chapter closed.
You spent years thinking about getting back behind the decks before you finally did it. What was the moment that made it happen?
My partner Chris, really. He just kept encouraging me — said you should do it, just do it. I’d always talked myself out of it, worried what other DJs I know would think. But eventually I bought a small setup, had a go, and thought: if I can do this, great. If not, whatever. There was no grand plan. It was just — let’s try.
Your first gig back was at Canvas in Bournemouth. What do you remember about that night?
Terrifying. I must have practised that set a million times. Chris was ready to never hear those songs again. I remember standing at the decks and my hands were visibly shaking — there are photos. And then I got there and the setup was a Nexus 2 and CDJ 2000s, completely different to what I’d been practising on at home. But the feeling of actually doing it — once I was into it — was amazing. I loved it. One booking led to another, and it just kept going from there.
You now host a regular show on Brixton Radio. How did that come about — and how does radio compare to playing live?
I went up to record a podcast at their studios and got chatting to Ben, who runs Mr Ben Agency and books a lot of DJs for Brixton Disco Festival. He suggested I come and play on the radio — so I did. Now I just get to play whatever I want. It’s a different kind of freedom to a live set, where you’re always reading the room. On radio, it’s just music I love. Both are brilliant in completely different ways.
Your roots are in jungle, hardcore, and rave — how has your sound evolved?
Massively. Back then it was all high energy — jungle, big beats, hardcore. Now my sound is much more soulful. House, disco house, deep house. I still play a lot of music from the nineties, but not what I was listening to back then. Things like Dave Lee remixes, soulful edits, music with weight to it. And because I’ve absorbed so much music over so many years, I’ve got a lot to draw on when it comes to reading a crowd. That depth is genuinely useful.
You’ve also built an entirely separate career — brand agency owner, then ADHD coaching. There’s a lot of reinvention there. What’s the thread that runs through all of it?
Probably my ADHD, honestly. When something feels done to me, it’s done — I need to move toward something new. But the pivot to coaching wasn’t as random as it might look from the outside. I was already mentoring creatives through the agency, and almost every single person I was working with was also ADHD — diagnosed or going through the process. It naturally blurred into one thing. And the coaching now brings together everything: the lived experience, the music industry knowledge, the DJ world. It all connects.
What does the south coast music scene look like to you right now?
It’s on the up. There are genuinely great events happening, quality acts, good DJs — and a real soulful house scene for people of my generation alongside younger crowds at venues like Aruba. Bournemouth gets an unfair reputation, but I’ve lived here most of my life and I’ve seen it at its worst, and it’s much better than the internet gives it credit for. The talent down here is real.
Finally — you’re playing the VIP lounge at Christchurch Music Festival this summer on Friday 17th July with a big Soul, Motown & Disco lineup on the Main Stage. What can people expect?
Soulful house, disco house — music people know and music they might not. I’ll read the room and go from there. But you can expect it to feel good and be very danceable. Christchurch Music Festival is somewhere I’ve been going to since I was a teenager — I lived in Christchurch for seven years, and before that we used to go to the festivals on the quay as kids. So playing there feels genuinely special. It means something.
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ABI’S DOSSIER
Birthplace: Taplow, near Maidenhead
Current neighbourhood: Westbourne
Coffee: Decaf oat cappuccino
Cocktail: Mojito
What she ordered: The Flamingo Big English
Current playlist: Dan Swindle
Favourite club of all time: Madison’s
Best record ever made: Papua New Guinea — Future Sound of London
Artist she wishes she’d seen live: The Beatles
Sunrise or sunset set: Sunset set — but she’s a sunrise person
Last song she’d ever play: Papua New Guinea — Future Sound of London
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Interviewed by: Joshua Simons
Photos: Samantha Sheldon
Location: Flamingo Café Bar
You can catch Abi Joy Lemon playing the VIP Lounge at Christchurch Music Festival this summer on Friday 17th July. Click HERE for more info.

