Matéo Lesguer started without waiting for approval. His sense of place and purpose was shaped by music from the first time his fingers traced melodies on a piano in Cholet. He discovered his rhythm early on, having been adopted into a French family at the age of three after being born in Haiti. Despite its quiet exterior, his early years were filled with the irresistible allure of sound exploration—first chords, then beats, and finally layers of digitally produced texture.
While most of his peers were still exploring their interests, Matún was already researching crowd energy. At sixteen, he stood at the periphery of local bars’ DJ booths, taking in every change in BPM and flicker of light. His early Maine-et-Loire performances served as a practice for emotional precision in addition to being musical performances. Even back then, he realized that being a DJ was about timing, empathy, and connection rather than loudness.
| Full Name | Matéo Lesguer |
|---|---|
| Date of Birth | October 17, 2002 |
| Place of Birth | Haiti |
| Nationality | French (adopted in early childhood) |
| Artistic Name | NEOSHY |
| Profession | DJ and Music Producer |
| Known For | DJ duo “Edenshy” with Edenflow |
| Education | UCPA École des DJ, Poitiers |
| Last Role | Resident DJ at La Constellation, Crans-Montana |
| Date of Death | December 31, 2025 (Crans-Montana fire) |
| Age at Death | 23 |
| Reference | Paris Match |
A definite step toward structure without sacrificing spontaneity was taken in 2020 when Matéo enrolled in UCPA’s École des DJ in Poitiers. It was there that he got to know Florian, also known as Edenflow, a classmate who had a very similar love of experimentation but a different musical energy. They collaborated to create “Edenshy,” a collaboration that combined electronic chaos with calm atmosphere, sharp and soft.
Their collaboration became especially inventive, going beyond audio to create multisensory performances with Blender-created 3D visuals. The pair wanted their performances to be evocative experiences as much as musical performances. They frequently talked about creating a surreal environment where sound and images blended together and each track served as a portal rather than a finished good.
Together, they created live performances that seemed remarkably adaptable. Their chemistry was evident in both digital streams and crowded bars. Each performance was marked by two musicians who were emotionally and musically in perfect sync.
By 2023, Matéo had moved to Switzerland and found a home at the vibrant Crans-Montana venue La Constellation. It was a small but significant stage where he could hone his sound and attract new audiences. Coworkers said that his performances were exceptionally effective due to their balance rather than their volume. He read every crowd as a fresh dialogue, playing sensitively, knowing when to push and when to back off.
There was nothing anyone could have anticipated on December 31, 2025. The venue was destroyed by fire that evening. Names were kept secret as word spread, but anxiety increased. The disappearance of Matě lingered in the atmosphere like an incomplete melody. His death was confirmed four days later.
In response, Edenflow, his creative partner, sent a heartbreakingly human message. He wrote, “Mateo, we’re a duo.” “How do I proceed if you’re not here?” It was more than just a eulogy; it was an open wound with unfinished songs and unrealized ideas. There was more than music on their hard drive. It contained plans and preliminary sketches of a future they were still working on.
As I read that post, I stopped to consider how brittle collaboration can be when it is based more on aspirations than agreements.
The early hires of Matún also came forward. One Cholet bar owner remembered how Matéo arrived before turning eighteen—prepared, courteous, and eager. In order to legally offer him the position, they waited until his birthday. One remarked, “He had a joy that lifted the whole room.” He performed more than just music. He kept people together.
Matéo made a lasting impression during his brief career that seemed much deeper than his years. He was more than just a DJ to those who knew him. He was a builder of shared momentum, trust, and energy. The technical process brought him joy, and the emotional result gave him purpose.
His approach was based on attentiveness rather than trends. He used music as a tool and an offering, whether it was to match harmonics with images or sample natural sounds. Even his mistakes—half-baked mixes, missed cues, and shelved tracks—became a component of his approach. He researched them, gained knowledge from them, and developed as a result.
Even in the midst of chaos, friends said he was incredibly dependable. This dependability resulted in a deeper level of artistic consistency as well as professionalism and punctuality. His sets were trusted by the audience in addition to being enjoyable.
His music has reappeared on various platforms since the fire, this time as a tribute rather than a portfolio. Soft messages are posted alongside clips of his performances. One reads, “You were building something.” “You were only beginning.”
He was, in fact. Matéo Lesguer exemplified an extremely uncommon form of artistic expression that is emotionally sensitive, structurally conscious, and quietly self-assured. He didn’t pursue fame. He sought out connection. His performance was not meant to impress. Something that only he could clearly hear was translated by his performance.
Some songs remain unfinished. folders containing projects that might never be finished. But what he shared, what he did finish, has stood the test of time.
The importance of artists who don’t wait for fame is highlighted by Matéo’s story. They just keep constructing. Through his music, his partnerships, and the community he fostered, Matéo produced something that is still alive and thriving today.
