The Man, The Myth, The Legend: Mista Sinista

 

Interview Terrell “ReaLife” Black Photography @ValidatedPhotos

From his days as a member of the legendary X-Ecutioners to his continued impact behind the turntables, Mista Sinista has cemented his name in hip-hop history. Known for his razor-sharp precision, signature style, and commitment to the craft of DJing, Sinista’s journey is a testament to both resilience and reinvention. As part of the crew that revolutionized turntablism in the ’90s, his fingerprints are etched into the DNA of the culture—but his story goes far deeper than technique and reputation.

In this candid conversation with VALIDATED, Sinista opens up about the highs and lows of his career, personal battles that shaped him, the wisdom gained through hardship, and the new chapter he’s writing with longtime collaborator Rob Swift. From rocking stages to rebuilding his spirit, Mista Sinista speaks with a clarity earned through experience—and a passion that still burns strong.

VALIDATED: So being from Queens, New York originally, what would you say your earliest memory of hip-hop culture is?

MISTA SINISTA: Earliest memory of hip-hop culture was, I gotta say, from my father. My father was a DJ, and when he played this record by the Fatback Band called Get on the Bus—which I know a lot of people think of Rapper’s Delight as the first hip-hop record—but I got to hear what my father was playing. He played that Get on the Bus record, which actually was the first record, to date, where I heard anybody rhyming on.

Then came Rapper’s Delight, and around my way, there were a lot of people that were into hip-hop when that came out. That was a big thing. When Rapper’s Delight dropped, everybody around my way was into it.

We had local people coming around—Big Shots, my man Otis, and Peter Hales. He was the first one to have a set over there—the turntables. That’s where I got exposed to all this hip-hop stuff. Then just by listening to the records, the radio, and being around… I was young, just being in that area with guys who were a little older. They had turntables, they had equipment. Back then it was speakers, and everybody was playing the hip-hop songs.

Everybody was playing Rapper’s Delight, everybody was playing Superrappin’. So that was my earliest, earliest memory of hip-hop culture in Queens.

VALIDATED: Can you tell us about your early days in Queens and how they influenced your journey into DJing?

MISTA SINISTA: Oh yeah, man—my early days in Queens were great. Like I said, at that time I was about nine or ten years old. Being around my father and just being in that environment, everybody was doing this hip-hop thing.

Everybody was playing Rapper’s Delight, everybody was playing Superrappin’, and as hip-hop progressed, everybody was still into the culture. Then came breakdancing, and in Queens, that’s what everybody was doing. I remember going to different blocks in Queens and they had linoleum in the streets—just laid out so they could breakdance right there.

Everybody had equipment, everybody was rhyming. Everybody was trying to do something connected to this new culture that was coming up. We even did little things like building go-carts. We used to have a blog, we played Skelly—if anybody remembers that. We used to play that stuff. But overall, the vibe was hip-hop.

Everybody was trying to do something involved with the culture. Back then, even before the breakdancing wave, it was either you were a DJ or you were an emcee. That was the biggest thing. Everybody around the way was either trying to rhyme or trying to be a DJ.

This was happening in my area, the Queens area. Every block I was on, people were doing this. I was surrounded by it. That’s where I got my motivation—outside of my father—to start doing my own thing and growing up in that environment. I was around it 24/7.

Queens was pivotal for me because when it started going that way, hip-hop started getting bigger. I know Kwame was from my way. Eric B. lived right around the corner from me—he lived up the block. Salt-N-Pepa were going to Herbie’s house—Herbie lived in Queens. So as this whole thing grew, I had front-row seats.

Kool G Rap was in the neighborhood too. Kool G Rap and Polo, my man Argo Smart… I could go on and on. All these people were in the backyard—in Queens. They were all around me. I grew up in all of this.

I was heavy into the streets at the time, just hanging around, watching everything happen. I was lucky enough to have a friend who brought me around all these things—like the park jams when they used to plug the equipment into the lampposts. I was around all that stuff at a young age.

That’s what was going on in Queens. That’s what motivated me, got me into this culture, and kind of raised me to do this stuff.

VALIDATED: So it was destiny?

MISTA SINISTA: Exactly. No better way to say it.

VALIDATED: How did you get your name?

MISTA SINISTA: Big shout out to Harlo Smart again. So back when I was like 15 or 16, I had the name Joe Rock. That was during the “Rock” and “Ski” era—everyone had names like Pete Rock, Jazzy Ski, and all that.

Now, Pete Rock sounds cool, but Joe Rock? It didn’t really hit right. I used it for a minute, but I knew I needed something else.

One day Harlo Smart was at my house watching me practice. I had just started getting into beat juggling. I was going in. He’s watching me, and he goes, “Yo… you look crazy when you do that. You look sinister.”

Right then, I was like—that’s it.

I said, “Yo, I want to call myself Sinista.” And he goes, “Yo, you should throw a ‘Mr.’ in front of it. That sounds official—like someone you have to respect.”

And boom—Mista Sinista was born.

Later I found out there was actually a villain in the X-Men comics named Mister Sinister. He was this crazy scientist who used to battle the X-Men. I thought that was dope too, so I just ran with it—and I’ve had the name ever since.

VALIDATED: So what was the first piece of DJ equipment you ever owned, and how did you acquire it?

MISTA SINISTA: Wow, great question. The first piece of DJ equipment? I was borrowing equipment at the time, let’s just be honest. I was borrowing equipment from my man Born and Mark. I didn’t have money for my own set, so I was using theirs. They had these Technics B1s. They were straight-on turntables—belt drives.

Of course, this was when 1200s were crazy expensive. I didn’t even know about the 1200s at the time. People knew about them, but couldn’t afford them. At that time, those things were going for something like $1,500 each. As a kid, you couldn’t get those. So we settled for the $100 ones, which were the Technics B1s.

I was borrowing those from my man, and he had a Realistic mixer—the ones you got from Radio Shack, if anybody remembers that. Yeah, man. So when I finally saved up money to get my own equipment, my first piece was a pair of Audio-Tech turntables. I was about 16. They were a no-name brand, but they had curved arms. I didn’t really like the straight arms. But those were my first turntables that I owned. They were belt drives.

So that was actually the first piece of equipment I ever purchased. After that, I bought my first amplifier. Back then, amplifiers had RCA jacks in the back. They weren’t powered—you had to plug them in. I got the amp, and then I bought my mixer, which was a Realistic mixer—the same one. So those were the first pieces of equipment I ever owned.

VALIDATED: And I know you mentioned that your pops kind of sparked your interest in DJing by already being involved in it. But other than your pops, which DJs influenced your style? And what, if anything, did you borrow from them?

MISTA SINISTA: Wow. Oh wow. Great question, man. I like the questions—you’re making me go back, and I love answering these things.

When I first started, I reached out to my man Otis. He was the first guy who introduced me to the turntables and let me touch his setup. Then Plizz—his brother Peter—brought a set to my house and let me borrow it for a bit. I started messing with that because I couldn’t really touch my pops’ equipment. He only let me touch a little.

As time went on, Kiss FM was rocking, BLS was rocking, and there were a lot of underground stations. But at the time I was coming up, it was all about Red Alert. This is real old school. On Kiss FM, I remember Chuck Chillout, Red Alert, and then the Latin Rascals. That was the lineup. I used to always listen to Red Alert, man. Big shouts to Uncle Red. I’d tune into Kiss FM religiously whenever his show was on.

Later on, I found out about BLS and the Rap Attack with Mr. Magic. That’s when Marley Marl came into play. I started listening to him, just soaking everything in. From that Marley Marl era, I really started wanting to do things. I started blending, doing little things on my own.

Then WHBI came around, with different DJs on those stations. That’s when Pete Rock came in. Big shouts to Pete Rock. Kevvy Kev too—big shouts to him. I got influenced by all of them. As far as my mixing and scratching style, I’d say I patterned myself most after Pete Rock and Kevvy Kev on BLS. That’s where I really started to develop my mixing style.

I was learning stuff from Red Alert and Chuck Chillout too, but I was still pretty average at the time. It wasn’t until I heard Pete Rock and Kevvy Kev that I really stepped my game up. I started trying to mimic their mixing and scratching. Pete Rock was doing all kinds of crazy scratches on the radio. I was like, “Wow.” I started practicing, trying to emulate what I heard.

So my style is a mixture of many DJs, man. It could be Marley Marl, Pete Rock, Chuck Chillout… Later on, I even got into house music. I left hip-hop alone for a bit. I was motivated by a lot of house DJs like Scott Blackwell and started mixing house.

Then a man came to my crib and told me he knew Dr. Butcher. He was like, “Yo, I know this kid Dr. Butcher—he’s ill.” So I went to June’s house—Dr. Butcher—and he introduced me to a whole new style of scratching and turntablism. I didn’t even know that type of stuff was possible.

He started showing me videotapes of DMC battles and seminars from ’89 and ’90. I saw Steve D and them doing beat juggles and tricks. I saw DJ Miz, DJ Aladdin… and that took me to another level. I was like, “These dudes are changing records, changing tempo… I’m not even doing any of that.” I was just blending records.

Until that time, I wasn’t even exposed to that level of DJing—battling and technical tricks. Once I saw that, I said, “This is what I want to do. I want to be this good.” And I wanted people to know me for being that good.

From that point on, I started combining everything I learned from every DJ I’d ever seen—trying to develop a style that was tight with mixing, solid with scratching, and top-tier with tricks. I started practicing for hours every day. I lost weight from being out on my porch so much.

Summertime would come, people would be like, “You wanna hang out?” I’d be like, “Nah.” It could be 90 degrees, and I’d still be inside practicing. Anybody in Queens on 94th Street would tell you—you’d see me in that window, sweating, working on the same record over and over. Just trying to reach that level I saw in those battles.

So that’s where it really started for me.

VALIDATED: So you had the dedication, obviously.

MISTA SINISTA: Yes.

VALIDATED: All right, so what was the turning point in your career that led to your recognition in the DJing community?

MISTA SINISTA: Wow. Good question.

Well, I used to work with Victor Padilla. He produced two songs on the Beatnuts’ album Are You Ready?I knew Vic because I was working with my man Artwell Smart at the time. We used to go to Spanish Fly, and I was doing demos with him. Vic had a studio right up the block from us, and Artwell used to pay Vic to record his demos. I was his DJ, so I’d go in and do the scratches.

Every session Artwell booked, Vic was there. Vic used to tell me, “Yo man, these scratches are kind of dope,” and I’d be like, “Thank you.” Every time I came back, he’d say the same thing. He knew the Beatnuts—I already knew JuJu a little bit, since he’s from Corona—but they were dropping Intoxicated Demons and getting ready for their second full EP, and Vic was producing a track on it.

I kept asking Vic, “Yo man, can you do something? I really want to get into the business. I want to scratch. I want to be known.” He’d always say, “Yeah, yeah,” but he was busy, and it became this back-and-forth thing. He believed in me, but his plate was full.

At the same time, I knew the seminars were happening. Rob Swift had entered the 1991 DMC and placed second. Then he came back in ’92 and won it. If you watch the ’92 DMC, I’m standing right next to Rob handling his records. I was with him during all that.

He asked me to come to his crib and time his routines. For six months, I was timing him. Then I held his records at the DMC. When he won, I thought, “I’m gonna come back next year and do it myself.”

So while I was waiting on Vic, I told myself, “The seminar is probably going to be my way in.” I wanted people to know that I was serious and that I could really DJ. So I decided to take that route. I started practicing, building routines, and putting everything together. I told people I was going to enter—and I did.

People would say, “Ah man, that’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing. You can’t be Funkmaster Flex or whoever.” I ignored all that. My goal was to do my best and make an impact, especially since it was my firstseminar.

I practiced hard. Rob helped me for six or seven months. When the day came, I was nervous. There were a lot of dope DJs. The format was head-to-head. It was Clark Kent’s battle—big shout out to him. They’d draw names randomly, give you 90 seconds to battle, and whoever won advanced.

And let me tell you—back then, the crowd was brutal. Not like today where they’ll still clap if you’re average. If you weren’t good, you got booed. You did not want to be that DJ. That alone pushed me to have presence and make sure I didn’t get booed.

I ended up making it to the final round and went up against a kid named Abel from California. I came in second place in my first ever seminar. And that was the moment people started to notice me.

Before that battle, no one knew who the hell I was. Afterward, people were like, “Yo, you should’ve won!” I didn’t care that I didn’t take first—I was just happy the crowd loved what I did and that I made an impression.

That was the moment I knew I did it. After that, things started to shift. Raider—rest in peace—got an offer from Joe Fatal. Big shout out to Joe Fatal. He was opening up for the Soul Assassins Tour in 1993, which was huge at the time. Cypress Hill was blowing up. The lineup was crazy: The Hooligans (that’s where I first met Alchemist—he was just a kid), Funkdoobiest, House of Pain, and Cypress Hill. These guys were doing arenas with 250,000 people.

Joe Fatal was signed to Atlantic and needed a DJ. He asked Raider, but Raider didn’t want to go on the road at the time for whatever reason. So he called me and said, “Yo Sin, I got an offer for you. Joe wants me to go, but I don’t want to. Do you want to do it?”

I said, “Okay, I’ll do it.” At that moment, I went from doing a seminar for 300 people to doing arena toursin front of thousands. I was doing simple routines—nowhere near the technical stuff I did at the seminar—but I was performing in front of millions. That exposure was crazy. I met B-Real, Danny Boy, the whole House of Pain crew. I got to see the ins and outs of the industry. I was like, “Yo, I want this. I want to make money doing this.”

People from the industry saw me on tour and said, “Yo, that’s the kid from the seminar!” They started connecting my name with real moves. When I got back from the tour, Vic finally called me. The timing was right. He said, “Yo, I want you to do scratches on my track, and the Beatnuts want you to do scratches on one of theirs.”

That was my first debut on wax—my first professional recording where people started hearing me as a scratch artist. Big shout to the Beatnuts. If it weren’t for them, my career path might’ve gone in a totally different direction. But they gave me that moment that put me into the industry.

Vic was already plugged in at Relativity Records, and through him, I met Peter Kang, who was the Beatnuts’ manager. That connection brought me deeper into the label system. Peter knew everybody. He could call shots. He was in the business.

Because of my scratches on the Beatnuts project, I started working with more artists. Common had just dropped Can I Borrow a Dollar? and was in The Source’s Unsigned Hype. He was on Relativity too.

Through all of that—through the Beatnuts, through Vic, through Peter Kang—I started doing shows, became the Beatnuts’ tour DJ for a bit, and really stepped into the music business. By that point, the name “Sinista” was known. People recognized the name. I was no longer that anonymous kid. I had stepped into the spotlight.

That was the turning point.

And then Peter, who ended up being my solo manager, came to me and was like, yo, Common is working on his Resurrection album. And he wants you to do a couple of scratches for that album. And I was like, bet. I’ll do it. You don’t got to ask me twice.

So I went in the studio with Common, met Common. From the Beatnuts to that album, got to get to Common. And when I did the scratches for his album, I was only supposed to lay two. So I laid two sets of scratches for the tracks.

We went to Mirror Image. We locked ourselves in the studio for a month. While I was in the studio, I brought the DMC tape that I had, and I was playing it for him. And when I did the two scratches, he was like, “Yo, you want to do the whole album?” I was like, bet. You don’t got to ask me twice.

So I did that. And while I was in the studio, I was playing the videotape of me in the seminar. And he was like, “Yo, that’s you?” And I was like, “Yeah, that’s me. I was in a seminar.” He was like, “Yo man, you dope.”

So from that, he asked me to go on the road with him, to be his tour DJ. And that’s how I got to be his tour DJ for four tours and did the scratches for all three of his albums. And I guess I explained it the best way. But from those little trajectories, that’s where I started to get into the industry. And I was already well into it.

So I kind of feel like God set the plan for me to meet the right people at the right time and connect in the right way, which I’m always grateful to Him for. And that’s where The Named Citizen was born. It’s gone from there.

VALIDATED: Nice. So you’ve been a part of some legendary DJ battles, as you’ve already mentioned. Can you share your most memorable experience or battle that stands out to you?

MISTA SINISTA: I think the one that stands out to me is the ‘95 DMC, which I won. I won that one. And in that one, there was this kid called Swamp. Big shouts to Swamp. Swamp was a white dude from Cincinnati, Ohio. And he came. He joined the 1995 DMC that I was in.

He came and he did some crazy shit. I think a lot of people weren’t ready. He acted like he was a guitar player with that turntable. And he did something with licking the needles. And he didn’t win. I came in first, but he came in second. And that was in the Northeast finals.

In the DMC, whoever won the East Coast in first, second, and third place would get flown out by the DMC to San Francisco to battle for the West Coast finals. And then whoever placed second in that would go to the world. So I won there. And there was a big debate. Like, “Yo, he should have won. Swamp should have won. The only reason this guy won is because he’s Sinista.” I mean, there was a whole bunch of stuff going on with that. But I still won.

And I ended up going to the West Coast, because that’s where the other finals were. And I practiced so hard for that. And Swamp was there too because Swamp came in second. And that battle was interesting because I thought I was going to win that one. But it ended up that they were feeling him more out there. And I told them when they announced it, I was like, “Dude, it’s either going to be me or you. That’s what it’s going to be.” Because I knew at that point we were the best two there. And they chose him. And I was congratulating him. But he did some really good stuff there.

Those are the most memorable ones to me because it was a battle. And it was like a competition to see who was going to take it. Like, I took it in the East. So who’s going to take it in the West? So it was kind of like a rivalry thing. But those are the most memorable. Those two battles to me were the most memorable.

VALIDATED: Wow, that’s dope. So how did your time with The Executioners shape your style and approach to DJing?

MISTA SINISTA: Wow, so much. I got introduced to them… Before that, I was practicing myself. And Drew, Dr. Butcher, actually introduced me to Rob. Because at the time, Drew was helping Rob train.

So when I went to Drew, Drew was like, “I train with this other guy too. His name is Rob.” So that’s how I met Rob Swift. Big shout-outs to Rob. Rob, like I said before, got into the ‘91 DMC, came in third. And he went back and won in ‘92.

So at that point, in ‘91 when Rob was there, that’s when he saw Raida. That’s when I first saw Raida in person. And Steve… They all came to Rob and said, “Yo…” Rob was a little upset that he came in third. But they were like, “Look, man, this is how these things go.”

So Steve was like, “Yo, look, we have a crew. You want to come up and practice?” We already knew about the X-Men. But we were like, “Yo!” They grabbed Rob. And Rob started going uptown. So uptown was where Raida lived, where Steve lived.

Steve was busy. He was on the road with Guy and all of them. But Rob had a chance to go practice with Raida. And they practiced up there. So Rob was coming back and telling me, like, “Yo, these guys practice. Like, they practice battle style. They time each other in the house. And it’s serious… but it’s fun.”

So he was way ahead of me with that. When I was always practicing in front of Rob and practicing on the phone call and asking him if things were good, he’s like, “Yo…” So when Rob finally figured I was ready, he was like, “Yo.” He brought me uptown. And that’s where I met Raida.

And for the first time, I went to Raida’s house. I met Raida, Sean, Johnny Cash — I met all of them. And I got thrown into the battle circuit with them. Like, yo, hello.

And dude, just watching them, being around… We all had the same goals. We all were good people. And we ended up being all good friends. And we just became a practicing thing where we all were hungry at that time.

We’d all go up, practice, practice. Then Raida would come out to my house. We’d have battles in my house. And it just kept going on. And we stayed around each other.

We were a very introverted unit. We never practiced in front of anybody. A lot of people wanted to be with us. We always kept to ourselves. Not that we weren’t cool with other DJs. A lot of DJs wanted to be down with us. But we were very introverted. We wanted to keep ourselves to ourselves. And we were a very tight-knit unit.

And we stayed practicing. We all were hungry. We all had the same goal in mind — to be the illest DJs we could be.

And us being around each other and me being around them — seeing Raida’s style and how he does his tricks and seeing Steve with the beat juggling — all of this stuff, being around it all the time, of course it’s going to rub off. And it’s going to shape you. It’s going to shape you being around these people. On top of your style, it’s going to just shape you.

From all these times being around and all of us being together, we all fed off each other. And we all kind of borrowed pieces from each other, but we all made our individual styles. But that’s the best I can say. Being around them just gave me motivation to just want to keep elevating what I was doing, and not stopping and going, “Oh, I’m the best.” Because whenever you think you’re the best, you need to stop.

I would go and see Raida just do some other shit. And I’m like, wow. I got to go back and do some stuff now.

VALIDATED: I thought I had it. Then he’d do something. Then Rob would do something. I’m like, damn, I got to do this now. And I think we all fed off each other like that. So how did that dynamic shape your style and keep you motivated?

MISTA SINISTA: So this is how I took it. This is how I got my style developed and stayed motivated—and how they rubbed off on me—because they kept me motivated. We all kept each other going. We kept each other moving up and just not saying we had a level of stopping—that there was always another level to take it to.

And if you see Raider do something, he might be doing a new style of tricks that we didn’t touch into. Or Rob might be doing a new style of pre-juggling that we weren’t doing before. And I’m like, yo, I can add something to that.

So it was a constant motivation all the way around. And that’s how I got all this energy inside of me to do all this stuff. You know? That was locked in. Steel sharpens steel.

VALIDATED: Yeah, exactly. Steel sharpens steel. Got you. So are there any specific techniques or tricks that you pioneered or are particularly proud of?

MISTA SINISTA: I’m proud of all the accomplishments I made. I can’t say I pioneered anything—I got to give that credit to Steve. Steve was the inventor of the beat-juggle. He’s the first one that I saw doing any type of beat-juggling to the next level. Before that, it was just minimal patterns.

But I can say that I’ve taken what I’ve seen from him, and taken what I’ve seen from a lot of DJs—a lot of great DJs—and what I can say is, I pioneered and created my way of doing what I’ve learned and what I’ve seen from Steve and Rob and other people. I’m proud of that.

I can say I pioneered my own way of doing what I do best, which is beat-juggling. I pioneered my own way and made my own flavor and added my own flavor. So I pioneered my own flavor, influenced by all the DJs I saw that motivated me and that I learned from.

VALIDATED: Nice. So how do you feel about the current state of DJ culture?

MISTA SINISTA: Right now, I think it’s more geared toward the younger cats. And because of these little shortcuts that they’re putting into the skill, I feel like the equipment has a lot to do with it.

I mean, back then, we were using records. You had to buy records. If you wanted to get doubles, you had to get two copies. You were dealing with needle skips. You had to learn how to master if a record skipped. You had to learn how to get back into your routine without really showing that it messed up.

Then you had to carry crates. You had to learn things step by step.

With the new equipment today, it kind of does it for you. It’s still manual, but you’ve got Serato, which basically has a non-skip function—so you don’t have to worry about hitting anything. Back then, you had to worry about people hitting the table and your record skipping. Now, none of that’s there.

Serato also has a thing where you can save music and make playlists where you can actually look at the lines and match things up.

Back then, we had to go by ear. Music is a sound—we had to go by ear. In order to get something tight and match it up, you had to go by ear. If you wanted to beat match, you had to use the pitch controls manually on the turntables. With Serato these days, you can just press a button and something’s on beat.

So what I feel is that—it’s good—it has elevated the culture, but it’s also made a lot of DJs today lazy. A lot of these DJs today skip steps. Like, we couldn’t skip steps back then. We had to go through the normal, manual way of doing things—learning how to manipulate the turntables. If something messed up, we had to get it back ourselves. There was no computer button to press to go back.

If you wanted to mark up and get to a specific area of the record, we had to tape it to get there—and make sure the tape wasn’t in a way that it could skip to other records.

Because of the new technology, DJs today have it a little bit easier than we did. But it also makes them a little bit lazier, because they skip steps they haven’t learned.

Most of the DJs today think that just because they have the equipment, they’re good. And most of them go off that premise.

Now, there are a lot of good young ones too. That’s still useful. But a lot of the DJ culture is, I think, more geared toward show—and how you look behind the turntables—instead of what you’re actually doing on the turntables.