Alok Achkar Peres Petrillo was born in 1991 in Goiânia, Brazil, the son of psytrance DJs and producers Swarup and Ekanta, and grew up inside the electronic-music scene his parents helped build around their Universo Paralello festival. Starting to perform as a teenager and going solo at nineteen, he became the leading popularizer of 'Brazilian bass' — a rounded, low-slung take on deep house — and broke through internationally with the 2016 single 'Hear Me Now.' A fixture near the top of DJ Magazine's global rankings through the late 2010s and 2020s, he built a run of melodic, emotive club hits including 'Never Let Me Go' and 'Ocean.'
Profiles of Alok trace his ear back to pioneering synthesizer artists like Jean-Michel Jarre, whose long-form, melody-first electronic music he grew up loving alongside the psytrance his parents made. The inheritance shows in how Alok tends to foreground a warm, singable synth line floating over atmospheric pads rather than reaching for aggression.
listen forCue the rippling, arpeggiated synth lead that carries Jarre's 'Oxygène, Pt. 4,' then drop into the airy melodic hook of Alok's 'Ocean' — both let a single hummable keyboard line, drifting over soft pads, do the emotional lifting.
Accounts of Alok's formative listening list Daft Punk among the electronic acts he grew to love, and the French-house mark shows in his glossy, four-on-the-floor productions built around a treated, repeating vocal phrase used as the central hook.
listen forPlay the pumping, filter-swept house of Daft Punk's 'One More Time,' then Alok's 'Hear Me Now' — listen for the same move, a single warm vocal line looped and lifted into a euphoric, hands-in-the-air drop.
The same profiles note The Prodigy among Alok's early loves — a rave-era act whose raw, bass-heavy aggression sits at the opposite pole from his melodic side. You can hear that harder rave DNA in the distorted, low-end-forward drops of his more festival-facing tracks.
listen forThrow on the snarling, overdriven riff of The Prodigy's 'Firestarter,' then the pounding drop of Alok & Bhaskar's 'Fuego' — both build to a moment where a gnarled, distorted low end, not a melody, becomes the hook.