My name is Neagu Andrei, and before I am an artist, a producer, or a name on a lineup, I am simply a human being. A normal one. I come from a loving, supportive family. I have pets waiting for me at home. I have close friends, simple passions, and a deep need to feel alive. Music didn’t make me who I am — it revealed who I already was.

The beginning – hearing before knowing

   I didn’t grow up with music theory. I didn’t know scales, chords, or instruments. What I had was my ear.
From a very young age, I could hear when something was wrong and when it was right. I didn’t know why, I just felt it. I connected sounds instinctively. I followed feeling instead of rules. I failed constantly, but I never stopped. My real introduction to music production came through my brother. I owe him more than I can ever put into words. Because of him, I discovered FL Studio, my first DAW. That moment quietly changed the direction of my entire life. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that software became my first instrument. I spent countless hours experimenting, breaking things, rebuilding them, starting over. I didn’t have structure, I had obsession. And that obsession kept me going.

XTEELRO – the messy phase

   Before I was Neagu Andrei, I was XTEELRO. I was a DJ on SoundCloud, posting everything I made — honestly, most of it was terrible. But it mattered. Every bad track was a step forward. Every upload was proof that I wasn’t afraid to try. I don’t regret that phase. I don’t hide it. Without those mistakes, there would be no growth. That chaos was necessary. Until I was about 15 or 16, I didn’t know music theory at all. I couldn’t play an instrument properly. Everything I created came from instinct. I built sound by ear alone. I trusted feeling over knowledge and surprisingly, it worked. When I finally started learning theory, something clicked: I wasn’t starting from zero. I was naming things I already felt. Theory didn’t limit me. It refined me.

Finding my workflow

   I worked in FL Studio for a long time, and I still respect it deeply. I didn’t leave because it was limiting — I can do just as much there. I moved because Studio One gave me a workflow that fit the way my mind works. Later, Ableton Live became another creative space for me. For me, a DAW isn’t just software. It’s a mental environment. If it doesn’t let me breathe, I can’t create.

The man behind the sound

   Outside of music, I live a normal life. I have a dog and a cat, and I’ve had many cats throughout my life. Animals ground me. They remind me what matters. I love football. I play it, I watch it, I feel it. I love sports in general. I love adrenaline, anything that makes me feel alive. Karting was something I enjoyed deeply, but football has always been closest to my heart. I have close friends. Real ones. I don’t try to stand out in everyday life. I don’t chase attention. I just want to be real. I love learning. I genuinely enjoy school. I watch documentaries, I ask questions, I absorb information. I’m a talkative person, but more than that, I’m curious. I want to understand people, and I think that’s why music fits me so well.

The first concert – a moment I never imagined

   In 2024, at Laminor Arena, I performed my first concert. I never thought I would be there. Not once. Not even in my wildest dreams. When I stepped on stage and started performing, I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. People were shouting. Phones were up. Flashlights everywhere. My brother and his wife were there — I had listed them as my managers just so they could enter for free and witness the moment. My friend John was there too. And when my performance ended and it was time to leave the stage, I started crying. I didn’t want to leave. That moment felt unreal.

Family, pride, and validation

   That same day, my parents weren’t sure they would make it to the concert. They weren’t fully convinced how far music could take me. But they came anyway. They stood behind the fence, outside the paid area. My mother filmed everything. She sent me messages. And after I finished performing, she told me she was proud of me. In that moment, it felt like God placed a hand on my head. Like every late night, every doubt, every sacrifice was finally acknowledged. The success came fast. Faster than I ever expected. But I don’t make music for success. I make it because I love it.

What music truly is to me

   Music isn’t business to me. It isn’t money, fame, houses, or status.

Music is emotion.

   It’s how we understand each other without speaking. It’s how different people, with different lives and perspectives, feel something together. Music turns strangers into family. I would make music even if I earned nothing from it. Even if I struggled. Because it gives me happiness, real happiness. If I had a hundred lives, I would choose the same one every time.
I would still be Neagu Andrei. Still chasing sound. Still choosing passion over comfort. Still wanting a simple life where I do what I love and sleep knowing I’m honest with myself. I don’t want more. I just want to be happy doing what I was meant to do.