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It’s a little after midnight. The lights are low. You’re surrounded by hundreds of people dancing their heart out, as the hottest song from the pop singer du jour is blaring at a volume so loud nobody can hear themselves think. And then the DJ tag hits.
“You’re listening to DJ Boywife, you stupid b*tch.”
The crowd screams.
It’s an experience thousands of Cincinnatians have every single weekend. To some, DJ Boywife is solely responsible for revitalizing the city’s nightlife. To others, he’s a parasocial figure with obsessive fans who follow and document his every move. But to those who know him best, he’s just Shane Brouman.
It seems hard to believe, given how ubiquitous he is at every single major space and event across the city — nightclubs, dive bars, FC Cincinnati games, blowout NYE bashes at Hard Rock Casino, just to name a few — but there was a time when CityBeat’s winner for Best DJ four years in a row was never a DJ at all.
“In 2021, I had a friend from Twitter who invited me out to his DJ set at a local gay bar. What he didn’t tell me, or anyone, was that it was actually his farewell set and he was moving to Dallas,” he said. “And I remember seeing one of the owners go, ‘Oh s**t.’ A few minutes later, the same owner comes up to me and goes, ‘You look like a DJ. Why don’t you come try it?'”
A week later, he performed his first “DJ set” — air quotes his, as the set was really just him sitting at a computer and queuing up songs on Spotify. But the crowd loved it, and he was asked to come back again, and again, and again. Eventually, the popular Over-the-Rhine nightclub Alice took notice of his burgeoning reputation and asked him to perform a set on a busy weekend night. What started as a side hustle and a reason to “get on stage and wear gay little outfits” became a full-time career.
“Going from a bar that holds 50 people to a giant warehouse that holds hundreds was when I realized, ‘Oh, this could actually be something.’ For the first time, I was getting an actual paycheck to perform, not just two drink tickets and a pat on the back,” he said. “I realized I needed to lock in and get some real equipment, because this had real legs to it. A few gigs later, Alice asked me to be their resident DJ. In a short span of time, I went from playing “Bad Romance” on the aux cord for my friends to performing for thousands every weekend.”
Local bartender, DJ and music producer Eliot Gill, a.k.a. Liot, has been along for the ride since the very first DJ Boywife set. He was drawn to Brouman’s “eclectic” taste in music across his sets, which includes everything from rap to K-pop to hyperpop to UK breakbeat. The two struck up a friendship, and have played shows together ever since.
“The thing I love about Shane’s sets is that he’s always having fun. Obviously, he has a huge core following that follows him wherever he goes,” he said. “Like, crowds show up specifically because they know he’s going to be there. And they’re always having so much fun watching him have fun. And it gives everyone else permission to have fun, too.”
Watching Boywife perform, it’s easy to tell that he exudes the sort of confidence and effortless cool that your run-of-the-mill musician or influencer would kill to have — which, in turn, brings around “a lot of similar people who are also really good at expressing themselves and dressing cool,” according to Gill.
“If Shane was given a title, like, if he was a knight or something, I think they’d deem him Cincinnati’s nightclub savior,” he said.
These days, when Boywife isn’t playing a gig at whatever Cincinnati venue is paying him top dollar to bring in a steady stream of customers, he’s regularly flying out to play sets in bigger cities.
Recently, for example, he spent Tuesday through Friday morning performing in New York City, flew back to Cincinnati that afternoon, then proceeded to play eight more shows in town that weekend. It’s a strenuous lifestyle without much downtime, but it’s rewarding in the end.
“When I see these young people who don’t really know themselves yet come out, and they see themselves in me or in the other people who come to my gigs, and they’re creating these core memories and figuring out who they are … all the sleepless nights, all the preparation, all the annoying logistics, it makes it all worth it,” he said.
His rampant popularity comes with plenty of side effects, of course. Lots of people have attempted to use his name for clout or status. Often, customers try to get free drinks or access to private areas by claiming to be his best friend.
Earlier this year, at Alice, a girl tried to skip the queue by claiming she had a text from him about it. (When prompted by security for the text, she revealed a message that simply said “Hi this is DJ Boywife” on her screen.) But none of it really bothers him as long as the right people make their way to the dance floor.
“I like people who give a f**k, because I give a f**k. What keeps me going, frankly, is the dedicated people. The people who really care about feeling safe and having fun. They’ll pay the cover, buy three expensive drinks and come back every single week,” he said. “It proves to me that I’m doing something important, and giving people a space to express themselves, and that we’re all in this together, no ‘High School Musical.’”
Getting named the city’s best DJ for multiple years in a row has been “incredibly validating,” he says, because it means the people he’s doing it for are responding in kind.
“It just feels good to be like, ‘damn, I was right to do this.’ Mom and Dad, I know you’re reading this, I told you college was for dorks,” he said, laughing. “But seriously, it’s not lost on me how much my success is centered around the people who come to see me. What’s a DJ without a crowd? I never want there to be any gray area about how much I appreciate not only the people who paved the way before me, but also all these little fags who see me breaking glass ceilings and doing the things we never dreamed of.”
As for what the future holds for his career, that’s easy.
“S**t, what doesn’t it hold?” he said. “Everything. End of answer.” The phone clicks, and an ‘end call’ sound plays. He’d love to stay and chat, but he’s got another gig to get to.
This article appears in Best of Cincinnati 2026.
