MAIKI BOOGIE Interview: Bringing Southern Dance Culture to Japan
For MAIKI BOOGIE, a dance move begins with the music and the people who made it. The Japanese dancer talks to HIPHOPCs about discovering Southern rap, finding his own style after imitating other dancers, and passing the groove of Atlanta and Dallas on to a new generation in Kawasaki.
Interview by Sam. Original Japanese article credited to Lucie, published October 16, 2026. This is an edited English translation of the Japanese interview. Repeated remarks, some interviewer asides and uncertain name references have been omitted; the conversation follows the original order. The accounts below are MAIKI’s recollections and views at the time of the interview.
Finding Southern rap, then dance
Sam: First, could you introduce yourself?
MAIKI: I’m MAIKI BOOGIE, a dancer. I was born in Edogawa, Tokyo, but various things happened and I ended up around Kita and Adachi.
Sam: Which came first for you—music or dance?
MAIKI: Music. Some things happened when I was in junior high—I got caught and ended up in a facility. There was something called seikun, life-skills training, when we could buy things about once a month.
On one of those occasions, I bought an Eminem album. Listening to it and thinking, “This is so cool,” might have been where it started. It was Curtain Call. From there, around 2008 or 2009, I started listening to more Southern music.
Sam: Which Southern artists were you listening to?
MAIKI: The four-member group Dem Franchize Boyz, Ludacris, and Yung Joc were among the artists coming into my world then. In high school, I saw people dancing to their tracks and thought, “You can express this through dance!” That was the order: music first, then getting into dance.
Sam: How did you start learning?
MAIKI: Friends taught me. Instead of going to lessons, we would watch YouTube and they would show me things. A friend took me to an event called DANCEALIVE, where I saw dancers I thought were incredible. That was when I really got hooked, around university age.
Sam: So it began casually, then became more serious at university. What year of university were you in?
MAIKI: It was after I turned 20. I belonged to a university club but barely went. I gathered friends I liked and said, “Let’s try performing at an event.” We didn’t know anything.
Sam: Do you remember your first event?
MAIKI: Not the name. I think it was at a club called LAGOON in Kumagaya. I don’t remember the actual dancing at all. [Laughs] It was just, “On to the next one!”
Sam: Did you form a team after that?
MAIKI: Yes. I didn’t want to stay within the university club, so I gathered people who were motivated and we formed a team called Nasty.
Sam: Is there an event from that period that stands out?
MAIKI: A competition in Saitama. I wasn’t interested in competitions, but we entered on a “Let’s try it once” kind of impulse. We did terribly. But it raised our motivation. Wanting not to lose became stronger than wanting to be popular.
Imitation, identity and what “South” means
Sam: Which dancers influenced you?
MAIKI: Dee from the Kawasaki team D-Blast had a huge influence on me. When I first saw him in person, I honestly didn’t think he was Japanese. At first I kept copying him. Then I realized that doing that would never make the dance my own, and I began to change.
Sam: What does “South” mean as a dance style?
MAIKI: It’s difficult to put into one sentence, but I’d say it has a party-oriented feel. Think of the routine that came with Soulja Boy’s “Crank That”—something you can dance in a club. Put simply, that vibe is what gets called “South.”
Strictly speaking, it isn’t a genre. It’s more like a movement that came from artists in the Southern United States. It really goes with Southern tracks, from places like Atlanta and Texas. People who are deeply into it can tell when a move from one area doesn’t match the music from another.
Watch the “Crank That” video referenced in the Japanese interview.
Sam: Do dancers pay close attention to that?
MAIKI: Some do. A lot of the people leading the scene are real obsessives. I don’t go that deep with someone who simply enjoys dancing and wants to take a class. But if someone tells me they want to do it seriously, I teach them everything I know.
Sam: Are you mainly sharing Texas street-dance culture now?
MAIKI: I really love Atlanta and Dallas right now. I love Gucci Mane enough to have a tattoo of him. I think things have come full circle and that wave is coming back.
There’s a Dallas rap crew called YUNG NATION. Recently, one of them, Fooly Faime, reached out to me on Instagram. He said, “I’m coming to Japan. Let’s dance together!” We danced and hung out at PINK TOKYO.
What I want to spread now is a culture called DTOWNBOOGIE. To give a Japanese comparison, think of something like para para or traditional Japanese dance. It looks simple, but when you try it, the nuances are surprisingly difficult. It’s incredibly cool.
I was invited to join the dance crew of NEW NATION, YUNG NATION’s official label, and ended up joining. The clothes I’m wearing today are from the crew.
Watch YUNG NATION’s “Pimp” video, included in the Japanese interview.
[An interviewer remark is omitted here; see “About this English edition.” MAIKI continued:]
MAIKI: I want everyone to try it, so I’m really passing it on at the studio. These are old-school moves, but a new, current feel is emerging. It’s difficult to explain in words.
Sam: Groove?
MAIKI: Yes, groove is probably the easiest way to put it. It’s a dance people can do together, with something like the feel of TikTok, but it’s cool. In Texas, a move called the “BEND” is popular right now. Like reggae, the South is good at creating new moves and getting them to catch on.
Freestyle and the turning points
Sam: How do you choose music and build choreography?
MAIKI: It’s about the mood—a track that gets me excited at that moment. Recently I haven’t been thinking out choreography very much. Especially with South, the focus is on each individual, rather than everyone hitting rigid choreography. People can be different. Of course the counts are the same, but the angles can differ.
Sam: How would you define your own style?
MAIKI: Moving toward the style of Black dancers—or, more specifically, taking in the style of the NEW NATION crew. Recreating that vibe as a Japanese dancer is really difficult. I take in that atmosphere, shape it through my own freestyle and add a Japanese essence.
Sam: How do original moves emerge?
MAIKI: Through freestyle. South is loose; it’s about the feel.
Sam: Was there a turning point on the way to your current style?
MAIKI: It may have been during COVID, when we couldn’t hold lessons at the school. We moved online. Some people drifted away or quit, and the number of people doing South dropped a little.
At the same time, Japanese rap was becoming really popular, and more people were dancing to it. I liked those dirty tracks by Black artists. Before COVID, lots of people had been dancing to South, and seeing fewer of them made me sad.
But it also made me want to show people how cool South is. I dug deeper in my own way and watched loads of old videos. It lit a fire under me to work harder.
Sam: Are there Japanese rappers working in that Southern style?
MAIKI: CzTIGER. He’s lived in places like Texas and Atlanta and is part of those communities. He sends me tracks before they come out, saying, “This is what I made with Dem Franchize Boyz.” He really pays attention to what he’s making. We’ve also seen each other at shoots for videos that I think will be coming out.
Sam: We’ve interviewed him a few times, too. But we hadn’t quite finished talking about your turning point.
MAIKI: Right. Going online meant fewer students, but it gave me the motivation to spread this further. My wife runs a dance studio in Kawasaki called STUDIO JEL’AIME. At the beginning, partly because of COVID, there were times when only three people came to my class.
Now, thankfully, lots of people come. It’s a studio where we really teach South, so I’d love people who are into it to visit.
Sam: How many people come to a lesson?
MAIKI: I have two classes with a maximum of 25 people each. Right now they’re full, with people waiting for cancellations. I’m just happy that this many people have become interested in South.
Sam: What has been your most frustrating experience?
MAIKI: That also ended up becoming motivation. I mentioned following Dee and copying him. I started because I admired him. I didn’t know the rules, because I hadn’t been out in the scene, and I was copying him completely.
I was told, “What you’re doing is imitation. If you want to do this seriously, come to the studio.” It felt like I was being told I couldn’t become the real thing without taking lessons.
After thinking about it, I decided I wanted to do it myself and become someone who teaches. It had the opposite effect: “Then I’ll prove I can do it without going.”
Sam: So you’ve never taken lessons?
MAIKI: No. I’ve been self-taught the whole time.
Sam: And what has made you happiest as a dancer?
MAIKI: Getting a message from Pimpin’ of Dem Franchize Boyz saying, “We’re playing in Japan. Come be a backing dancer.” Or FABO from D4L asking me to dance at a show in Okinawa. That made me feel that what I was doing had reached them over there.
It was so much fun. It felt more like having a session together than dancing behind them. I could bring younger dancers along too. A lot of the audience were Black, and there were a lot of women. Everyone was singing, and they were incredibly good.
Teaching the music behind the move
Sam: What are you concentrating on now?
MAIKI: Teaching. I’m developing a team of junior-high-school students called Skitz Nation, and I’m working on getting them more widely known.
Sam: How are you doing that?
MAIKI: Improving their fundamentals, how they apply them, and their groove in lessons—and making videos. We put them on Instagram and TikTok and really put ourselves in front of people over there. Then we go out and perform in as many showcases as we can.
Watch the dance reel included in the original interview.
Sam: What would you like to tell younger dancers?
MAIKI: I want my students to listen to music. Don’t just focus on dancing. Listen to the sound, and when you think a song is cool, watch the video. Copy the facial expressions too.
If you’re doing a dance like South, where the cultural side is so strong, I want you to listen to lots of music. Although saying “I want you to” makes it sound compulsory, so I’ll work on helping them fall in love with it. [Laughs]
Sam: Is there a difference between getting into dance through social-media trends and getting into it because you love music?
MAIKI: That’s difficult. The dances of famous artists and the South we do are completely different. But I think trends can be a good entry point. You get interested, visit a studio or an event, and discover all these other kinds of dance.
My younger sister and my mother both danced, so I actually hated dance at first.
Sam: Really?
MAIKI: It was ballet and things like that. I wanted to go out and play but had to go to recitals, so I thought, “I’m never doing that.” Now look at me. If I’d found hip-hop earlier, maybe I would have started dancing earlier.
Sam: Do you consider yourself a late starter?
MAIKI: Yes, I think so. You imagine everyone starting when they’re little. The children I teach now start really young. Some are three years old. I hope they keep going.
Sam: Can copying popular moves from social media create bad habits?
MAIKI: I think that can happen. A lot of those dances are pop-oriented and easy to understand. There’s reggae, krump, South and lots of other styles. Personally, I try to keep an image in my head while I dance: “I want to bring out the groove of that particular Black dancer.”
If I keep doing those pop dances, that image can fade when I dance South. It isn’t only movement habits. You can forget the facial expressions or mix in elements that don’t fit.
To be honest, especially with children, I’d like them to focus on one style. Moving between genres is difficult even for adults. But trying different genres is also important. At first, build your skills, including by doing things you don’t enjoy, and find the style that makes you think, “This is it.” Experiencing different things broadens your perspective in lots of ways.
Sam: With so much available to copy online, understanding the culture it comes from matters.
MAIKI: More than anything. Once you understand why a move is the way it is, you find yourself getting really into it. It’s like sampling for rappers: digging into the original source is fascinating.
Sam: Knowing what expressions like “skrrr” or “bang” mean gives you more ways to express them.
MAIKI: Exactly. Dance expresses things through movement. If you know the meaning, the facial expression follows naturally. That might be the most important thing.
Sam: What do you want students to take away from a lesson?
MAIKI: Most of my lesson is rhythm training, with a little choreography at the end. Rather than getting desperate to memorize the routine, I want them to take even one thing home from that hour.
You can practice choreography at home. It might be, “I want to practice that movement the teacher made,” or a facial expression, or groove. I want them to take those things away and build them up, one small piece at a time.
When music and dance become one
Sam: What matters more than being technically good?
MAIKI: If we’re talking about being a professional, being good is the starting point. To stand out beyond that, there’s groove, loving music, expressing the lyrics, and fashion.
Sam: What does “good” mean to you?
MAIKI: Having solid fundamentals, like isolations, goes without saying. For me, it’s when the music and dance become one—when nothing feels out of place.
You know when you see Black dancers in a club, riding the rhythm comfortably and looking like they’re having fun? That gets me. I think, “Wow, they’re good!”
Sometimes I see someone and think, “Why are you dancing so hard to this song?” Or their face is all tense. [Laughs] If you don’t pay attention to those things beyond technique, I don’t find it good or interesting.
Sam: For readers discovering you for the first time, what comes next?
MAIKI: First, I want to spread South further. If I can share how fun it is with my students and everyone dances, showcases and social media can carry that appeal to even more people. I want more people involved and to build this culture up.
Check me out, along with SOUTH SIDE BOYZ and Skitz Nation. South is really thriving at STUDIO JEL’AIME in Kawasaki, where I teach. Feel free to come and hang out.
Sam: Maybe becoming a godfather of South isn’t far away.
MAIKI: I’ll work toward it. [Laughs]
Closing note
Translated from the writer’s closing commentary in the original article. In any field, building technique without respect will not take you very far. It can even turn into something selfish, self-indulgent and crude. MAIKI BOOGIE has shown that by paying close attention to history, and to the feelings of the people who built a culture, you can connect across differences in skin color and language. The seeds he has planted are pushing up through the soil and starting to branch out, and the day may come when the flowers they bear are felt across the sea.
Studio and stage
MAIKI teaches at STUDIO JEL’AIME in Kawasaki. The studio information accompanying the Japanese interview describes classes across age groups and styles including hip-hop, K-pop and krump. Class sizes and waiting lists mentioned in the conversation describe the interview period; contact the studio for current availability.
The official WDC THE STAGE 2026 program lists MAIKI BOOGIE, SOUTH SIDE BOYZ and Skitz Nation for October 17, 2026, at Zepp Shinjuku (TOKYO), under R!NO’s supervision. See the organizer’s page for the current schedule and admission information.
About this English edition
This edition is based on HIPHOPCs’ published Japanese interview. Biographical details, collaborations and teaching experiences are attributed to MAIKI. An unsupported interviewer remark about race and biology has been left out, along with MAIKI’s brief acknowledgment before he moved on. Uncertain performer names and an unclear dance-move name have also been omitted. Introductory and promotional passages have been shortened. The photographs are reproduced from the original article.