ZAINAB on Canal View, Her Debut EP for Ninja Tune’s Technicolour, and Bringing Lahore and New York Together

ZAINAB photo by Enmi Yang

ZAINAB is a Brooklyn-based DJ, producer, curator and event producer whose work brings together club music with sounds rooted in South Asia and the wider Global South. Previously known as ZEEMUFFIN, she built her reputation in New York’s club scene before turning towards original production, with sets and performances spanning Coachella, Glastonbury, Boiler Room and Dialled In.

Her debut EP, Canal View, released on 14 August via Ninja Tune’s Technicolour imprint, takes its name from the Lahore neighbourhood where she was born and raised. Across six tracks, ZAINAB connects the musical worlds of Lahore and New York, drawing on South Asian and Arab sounds alongside house and dance music. The record includes the Urdu-language “Jadoo”, “Her Eyes”, built around a sample of Libyan-Egyptian artist Hamid Al Shaeri, and “Banglahore”, her collaboration with British-Bengali producer and rapper Surya Sen.

That exchange between place, culture and music also informs Azadi, ZAINAB’s party series and future label — its name meaning “freedom” in Urdu — through which she creates spaces centred on community and cultural exchange.

Your debut EP Canal View brings together Lahore and New York, two places that have shaped you in very different ways. What’s the story behind the EP, and what did you want it to say about who you are as an artist right now?

Canal View EP artwork

The EP is named after the neighborhood I grew up in, Lahore, before immigrating to New York.  In many ways, it’s an homage to the two cities that shaped me as an artist. Both cities are beautifully chaotic, messy, and multi-layered in their energy, much like the music on this project. Being exposed to the music of both cities was such a privilege because I learned about cultures from around the world while also staying connected to my roots. 

When I started to work on the EP, it was not necessarily an intentional choice to bring in rhythmic or percussive elements from my Pakistani heritage; it just came out of me during the process. The result, I think, is very reflective of music that has influenced me both from the South Asian and Arab world, which were the sounds of my youth- to my early days as a DJ here in New York City that evolved out of being a kid who grew up in the punk, indie hip hop scene, eventually finding my way into dance music. 

“Banglahore” brings together your Pakistani heritage with Surya Sen’s Bangladeshi heritage, while also acknowledging the difficult history between the two countries. What did making that track together mean to you personally?

I've been a fan of Surya Sen for so long and knew I wanted to work with him on a track. I was lucky that it ended up being on my debut project. We both performed at the Arrivals stage at Glastonbury in 2024 and stayed in touch after that.  The original beat for the song was just an instrumental, and I sent it to him over a DM, and he went absolutely mad over it.  I don't think it took him more than a week to send me back one of the best verses ever. I was literally jumping up and down in my studio chair when I heard it.

He actually made up the word “Banglahore”  in the middle of his verse. I thought that it was brilliant and really represented the coming together of both of our countries, which have a very contentious history due to the Pakistani genocide against Bangladeshis in the 70s. I knew in that moment that the song meant more than just a collaboration between two artists. By no means did we bury the entire history of our two nations with a song, but I think our collaboration shows that while our governments may separate and divide us, we are all from the same land and can create magic, as well as heal old wounds, when we work together. 

For emerging artists who are still figuring out what they want to sound like, what helped you develop confidence in your own musical identity? What advice would you give to someone still trying to find their sound?

ZAINAB photo by Enmi Yang

I think my musical identity is not fixed and is still evolving - to me, that's the best part of making music and being an artist: you can evolve as you grow and collect life experiences. Some of the best artists that I look up to have all had eras and evolved their sound as they grew.

My next project will probably sound nothing like this one, and that is the exciting part of building your musical identity. As someone who comes to production from a DJing background where I have never stuck to one specific sound, I think that is my unique superpower: I am not bound by genres or labels, and therefore I don’t get into the studio telling myself “I’m going to make x genre”.

My advice to someone trying to find their sound is simply to live your life. There's a lot of conversations online these days about “ finding your personal style”  and I think that conversation is reflective of finding your sound in music as well -  it's not something you consciously do; it's something you develop from living life and then processing those experiences into a work of art: whatever your medium might be.

Get clear on who your Inspirations are, go see artists you've never heard of perform live, and most importantly, put in the reps in the studio. You can only know what your musical style is by throwing darts at the board and seeing what you like and don't like. That’s the unsexy part, but it’s the most important.

You’ve gone from building your community in New York to playing Coachella and now supporting Channel Tres across North America. What have you learned about creating opportunities for yourself rather than waiting for them to come to you?

The fact is, if you don't advocate for yourself and continuously put yourself out there, nobody is going to hand you opportunities.  I think one of my strongest qualities is that I'm incredibly persistent and know how to pick myself up after failing over and over again.

It's really easy to blame the industry for things that go wrong, and there's definitely some validity in that, but I realized a while ago if you continue to hold a victim mindset, you're only shooting yourself in the foot and preventing opportunities from coming your way. You constantly have to jump out of your comfort zone and adapt to your environment, especially as a woman of color and a minority in this space; you have to work 10 times as hard to get half the recognition.

What’s your favourite part of making music, and what’s the one part of the process you could happily do without?

My favorite part of making music is collaborating with other artists -  I love the process of bouncing ideas off of another person and seeing where that takes us.  Much like a jam session, I think that's the best way to make music. I especially love sessions where we talk about inspirations and share music that we love for hours before we even get to making music.

I always find the best music that way and learn about things I never knew about. I could happily do without mixing and mastering my own music. That's a skill that I feel like there are a million people who are better at than me, and I'd rather leave it to the experts and focus on the things that I'm better at.

What are you listening to at the moment? Is there an artist or track you’ve had on repeat recently?

Currently, I have the new Strokes album Reality Awaits on repeat. I'm a lifelong Strokes fan and really love how they pushed the boundaries on this album, especially the way Julian Casablancas manipulated his vocals and the lyrical content.

I've also really been loving the new Ecca Vandal album - Looking for people to unfollow. I went to her first-ever show in New York City and saw her perform Ghosts before it came out. I was specifically waiting to hear that song on the album, and it completely lived up to the performance. She's an absolute superstar, and I can't wait to see what she does next, but for now I'm really enjoying immersing myself in this project. 

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Zainab on Instagram | TikTok | Canal View Out Now

Tour Dates: 
Tuesday, September 1  – Dallas, TX – Echo Lounge & Music Hall*
Wednesday, September 2 – Austin, TX – Emo's*
Friday, September 4  – Atlanta, GA – Buckhead Theatre*
Saturday, September 5 – Charlotte, NC – The Underground*
Monday, September 7 – Washington, DC – 9:30 Club*
Monday, September 14 – Toronto, ON – Danforth Music Hall*
Tuesday, September 15 – Montreal, QC – Beanfield Theatre*
Friday, September 18 – Detroit, MI – The Majestic*

* Supporting Channel Tres

shesaid.so Announced as Plugin Boutique's First "Sharing Spotlight" Partner

Plugin Boutique has named shesaid.so as the very first organisation featured in their new Sharing Spotlight initiative.

What is Sharing Spotlight?

Sharing Spotlight is a new initiative from Plugin Boutique designed to highlight and support music-related communities through bundles curated by them and available on the Plugin Boutique storefront. Each Sharing Spotlight features a music-related community and a curated bundle of plugins, and when you buy through the campaign's unique link, a portion of the sale goes straight to that community. It costs you nothing extra, and every purchase directly funds the organisation's work.

Plugin Boutique believes the tools used to make music can do more than inspire creativity: they can help support the communities that make that creativity possible. So whether you’re looking for your next synth, mixing tool, creative effect, or production essential, you can make your purchase go a little further.

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Why shesaid.so?

As Plugin Boutique put it when announcing the partnership, shesaid.so is a global, independent community of women, gender non-conforming people, and allies working across every corner of the music industry, from composition and performance to labels, management, agencies, and tech.

Being chosen to kick off this initiative is a recognition of the work our community does every day: organising events, showcasing artists, running mentorship programmes, and pushing for a more equitable, inclusive music industry. Support through Sharing Spotlight goes directly toward keeping that work going, connecting members with industry professionals, opening doors to opportunities, and helping challenge outdated structures in the industry.

"We are so grateful and honoured to be selected as Plugin Boutique's first Sharing Spotlight organisation. As someone who loves music production, I was thrilled to hand-select the plugins in this bundle myself, pulling together a set of tools I love and think our community will have a lot of fun experimenting and creating with.

Thank you to the team at Plugin Boutique for designing such a thoughtful, intentional initiative to support real change in our industry, and to everyone who purchases the bundle, your belief and support mean the world to shesaid.so and our mission."

- Vix Brand, Community and Operations, shesaid.so

Not a member yet?

Join a global community of over 12,000 changemakers working to make the music industry more equitable for everyone.

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How You Can Get Involved

Here’s how you can support us through this partnership:

1. Use the Sharing Spotlight link to shop the curated bundle or any other product on Plugin Boutique.

2. Complete your purchase as normal (there's no extra cost or added step on your end).

3. shesaid.so receives 15% of the sale, which goes directly toward our mission of supporting women and gender non-conforming people across the music industry.

Whether you're after a new synth, a mixing tool, or your next go-to creative effect, this is a chance to pick up gear you already wanted while directly funding the community work that helps build a more inclusive music industry for everyone.

Shop now and support shesaid.so

Read more about the Sharing Spotlight initiative on Plugin Boutique's blog.

Cultural Strategist Becky Young on Building Artist Programmes, Community and Work at EarthPercent

Becky Young is a cultural strategist, community builder and producer working across music, culture and social impact. She is currently a Programmes & Strategy Consultant at EarthPercent, the environmental charity co-founded by Brian Eno, having previously served as its Head of Operations & Community.

At EarthPercent, Young works across programme development, strategy and artist community-building. Her role has recently shifted as the organisation enters a new phase, with Young helping to pilot a new artist development programme and support the growth of its artist community. As part of a small team, her work also stretches across operations, partnerships and communications, moving between long-term planning and the practical work required to deliver projects.

Her wider career spans grassroots music, festivals, nightlife and community organising. She has produced events for the Association of Independent Festivals, Bootstrap Charity and Mothership Group, and previously founded Anti Diet Riot Club, a body-positive community project that organised workshops, meet-ups and the UK’s first anti-diet festival.

Young’s connection to music also extends beyond her professional work. Growing up in a creative family alongside her younger sisters, singer Lola Young and theatre actor Meimei Young, she was surrounded by music and performance from an early age. She also DJs as Sloppy Spice, playing music rooted in London rave sounds and influenced by underground scenes and queer-led spaces.

Across her work, Becky is particularly interested in supporting women and marginalised people in music to build sustainable careers, stronger communities and greater influence within the industry.

What does a typical day at EarthPercent look like?

My role has just shifted from working as Head of Operations & Community to working part time as a Programmes & Strategy Consultant so days are a little different than usual right now, which I have to say I’m enjoying, as I really like variety. 

Either way, I act as a kind of a bridge between a lot of the different work streams - strategy, designing and delivering our programmes, process building, operations and even comms - so what’s “typical” depends on what is priority at the moment. However, same as my colleagues - we’re a small team! - we all absolutely have to get our hands dirty with tasks of all sizes.

One minute I could be writing and sending partnership agreements, the next having meetings with incredible artists and creatives who want to collaborate, then setting up the space for an industry gathering at Brian Eno AKA our co-founder’s studio. Working at a relatively new charity means getting stuck in and being humble about it!

Right now, EarthPercent is at an exciting moment of change and I’m helping pilot a new artist development programme and resourcing the growth of the artist community we work with. So I spend a lot of time working on the strategy and operational plan for this while trying to make sure I give myself some time to actually THINK and cultivate new ideas, rather than just answering emails which is so time consuming.

EarthPercent is working on some exciting projects with artists and the wider music industry. Are there any current initiatives you'd encourage our community to get involved with or support?

One of the most fascinating and effective initiatives EarthPercent is involved with is Sounds Right (a global multi partner project led by Museum for the United Nations - UN Live) for which we project manage all the music and artist elements of. In short, it launched NATURE as an official streaming artist on all DSPs so that when human artists want to feature the sounds of the natural world they can credit “NATURE” as featured on the track and redirect royalties to the Sounds Right Conservation Fund.

So they can literally use their music to support Indigenous- and community-led conservation of key biodiversity hotspots. It's on track to raise millions each year for nature protection and meanwhile impacting the global conversation about how we value nature.

For someone who wants to work in cultural strategy, community or programming, where would you recommend they start?

Put on your own events! Doesn’t have to be a party, or related to your profession in any way; it could be a panel talk, or a film screening, creative workshop, a meet-up of like minded people. It’s the fastest way to learn how you like to bring people together and how to create/nurture community.

In the work I do with EarthPercent and beyond, you need to know that convening takes many forms and how you build the relationships between yourself and the people who are going to make the programmes and partnerships happen is so, so important. The practical requirements of being in total charge of an event teaches you a lot, so start there. 

You've brought together communities around music, wellbeing and social impact. What's one thing you've learned about creating spaces where people genuinely feel they belong?

"Community" gets thrown around so much in corporate settings it's almost lost its meaning, but I've genuinely seen how powerful real communities are - how they nourish people, spark ideas and collaborations that wouldn’t have happened otherwise and create ripple effects that go way beyond just one person.

For EarthPercent, we’re noticing how in this time of deepening crisis, artists especially are seeking spaces and places that aren’t solely about furthering their career but connecting them with other artists who want to create art in response to the crazy world around us (as good art should!). 

From Anti Diet RIot Club to our Artists 4 Earth community, I’ve learned that one on one relationships are key (whether it's you or other members of the community having space to genuinely connect) and that everyone shows up differently. Some want to sit back, absorb, learn from others before they get involved.

Some want to be heard and contribute from day one. You need to create space for both these types of engagement, knowing that people’s energy and commitment will shift over time anyway. Treating the community as one-size-fits-all is a mistake; a community is a sum of loads of individual people with different needs. 

And honestly, it only works if you resource it properly. Community building takes real time and energy (and maybe funds), if you want it to be genuine and non-extractive!

You're also a DJ. How has spending time on dancefloors shaped the way you think about community and the kinds of spaces you want to create?

Dancefloors were (and still are!) a place of worship; I grew up Atheist and free parties, clubnights, raves, festivals…these were my temples - so much so I even spent my formative years going to DMZ night ‘Mass’ at St Matthews Church in Brixton! They showed me how complete strangers can move, sing, reach euphoric states together without needing much explanation or reason, and that that shared experience is very primal and very human which is why we seek it out.

They also taught me that ritual, awe, rhythm, play and of course music (and good or at least non-offensive lighting) are some of the potent ingredients for feeling connected, feeling belonging. All of this translates into community strategy too! 

Outside of work, what's been inspiring you lately?

The World Cup! I don’t follow or really care about national/league football but I get absolutely struck down with the fever when international tourneys come around (men’s AND women’s of course!). As someone who is obsessed anyway with festivals and bringing people together, it’s impossible not to love it.

I love the theatre of it, the stories of countries and fans crossing paths, the magic on the pitch, the way it interacts/crosses over with international politics, the memories made watching games in someone's garden or local venues/pubs that put show it (shout out the Old Nuns Head that hosted Foundation FMs world cup viewing parties, they were wild!) and the intense energy you feel walking about London before and after an England match. It’s entertainment primarily but also it’s been inspiring to me as I’ve started working on projects that use music and culture to fight divisive and hate-fuelled politics in areas of the UK - there’s was some really thought-provoking stuff happening in and around that tournament. 

What are you listening to at the moment?

I’m currently digging (virtually) and organising my tunes for sets at Boomtown - I’m playing the closing set at an art-punk, vermin-inspired cabaret and club venue called NACHTLICKER and so high-energy, silly vibes are on the menu. So anything from Tony De Vit, to JIALING, Henry King, KiKi, and POLO LILLI - a very wide spectrum of rave sounds basically. 

Also; on the flip side of my music taste… ‘wish you nothing but the worst’ by Jacklyn is a right earworm at the moment. Just released by an independent artist and Brit School friend of Lola’s - it's very dramatic and I can’t get it out of my head. 

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Becky Young on LinkedIn

Anna Caragnano on Her Album Tamburi, Working With Donato Dozzy and Pietro Micioni, and Why Artists Shouldn’t Be Afraid to Make Mistakes

Anna Caragnano is an Italian vocal artist from Taranto whose work spans experimental music, electronic production, film and television. She began her career alongside Maestro Beppe D’Onghia, mentor and longtime conductor for Italian singer-songwriter Lucio Dalla, before gaining international attention through Sintetizzatrice, her collaboration with Donato Dozzy created entirely from recordings of her voice.

A track from the project, Parola, was later selected for a Fendi Spring/Summer campaign and featured in the television series L’Arte della gioia. Since 2022, Caragnano has collaborated with composer David Holmes on the soundtracks for the series The Woman in the Wall and Michael Winterbottom’s film Shoshana. She has also toured across Europe and South America with Mrak of Tale of Us and collaborated with Primal Scream on their album Come Ahead.

Her latest album, Tamburi, released in May 2026 via Nautilus Musica (Donato Dozzy’s new record label), is closely connected to the place where she grew up. The title refers both to drums and to Tamburi, the neighbourhood of Taranto where Caragnano was born. The area has been shaped by the relationship between its Mediterranean surroundings, industrial development, environmental conflict and everyday life, all of which form part of the album’s wider context.

Produced by Donato Dozzy and Pietro Micioni, Tamburi combines electronic production with traditional instruments from southern Italy, including zampogna, organetto, udu and percussion. Caragnano also uses dialect, breath, chants, syllables and melodic fragments across the record, continuing her exploration of the voice as a musical instrument. As she explains in our interview, the album brings together “ancient sounds, modern structures, contemporary thought, and folk language.”

Anna Caragnano - Photo by Lara Cetti

Your new album Tamburi is deeply connected to memory, place and the city where you grew up. What's the story behind the album?

Tamburi is a sonic tale rooted in memory but it grows in the present. In music, we often try to fit into well-defined genres (for creative reasons, to simplify listening), but the sonic tale of a life is made up of inconsistencies, often very poetic, that I wanted to put on the tracks.

I sampled ancient instruments from southern Italy (bagpipes, accordions, udu, drums) to which Donato added synths. Ancient sounds, modern structures, contemporary thought, and folk language. The title comes from the neighborhood in Taranto where I was born, which in Italian means "drums." It all started there.

Your voice is the thread that runs through the entire album. When did you realise it could become more than a way of singing words, and instead become the foundation of your compositions?

I started playing guitar and studying classical music many years before I started singing. When I started using my voice to sing, I continued to think like a musician.

Whether they are sounds, words, melodies, songs, the voice is an instrument and I have always wanted to use it as such, as a vehicle of emotions, above all. But here, in “Tamburi”, I think that the voice has a great weight but the common thread is the drums, the sounds from underground.

You've worked with producers Donato Dozzy and Pietro Micioni on Tamburi. What made them the right collaborators for this project, and how did they help shape the album?

They were not only the right collaborators, they were and are the only people who could understand, embrace, make this idea their own. They have known me for a long time and there is a lot of respect.

I knew that putting this idea in their hands would mean making it flourish in the right way, in the direction we would never have had the courage to go in alone.

Anna Caragnano - Photo by Lara Cetti

Networking can feel intimidating, especially for emerging artists. What's the best networking advice you've ever received?

I've received a lot of advice, some very contradictory, but I've always observed rather than listened, and I've come to the rather obvious conclusion that you have to be yourself. A little less obvious is asking yourself: who am I? And trying to find out...

What's one piece of advice you wish someone had given you when you were starting out?

“Don't be afraid (of judgment, of making mistakes, of doing strange things). Fear only wastes time.”

When you've had a long or creatively demanding day, what helps you switch off and recharge?

Kung fu!!! And reading…

What are you listening to at the moment?

Boards of Canada, “Inferno” and a Bach Prelude in B minor that Alexander Siloti transcribed from Bach's original Prelude in E minor (BWV 855a).

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Anna Caragnano on Instagram | Spotify | Apple Music

Noods Levels x shesaid.so: How to Make It in Music

An Online Artist & Music Industry Development Programme powered by Back Market

Following our open call and community survey, Noods Levels and shesaid.so are launching How to Make It in Music; a free online artist and music industry development programme consisting of three online sessions for women and gender non-conforming people working across the music industry.

The programme has been shaped directly by feedback from artists and music industry professionals, who highlighted a strong need for practical support around building sustainable careers, understanding music publishing, strengthening marketing and branding, and accessing funding opportunities.

Programme Sessions

8 September | 6:00pm BST
Music Publishing, Royalties & Sync (UK Focus)
With Rachel Graham-Andrieux

Learn how music publishing works, where royalties come from and what artists and music professionals need to know about sync.

REGISTER FOR THIS SESSION

22 September | 6:00pm BST
Marketing, Branding & Audience Building
With Yewi Omo

A practical session exploring how to build a clear artist or professional identity, develop your audience and approach marketing in a way that supports your wider career.

REGISTER FOR THIS SESSION

6 October | 6:00pm BST
Funding, Grants & Income Streams
Funding With Mina

Explore different funding opportunities and income streams available to artists and music professionals, with practical advice on navigating grants and building a more sustainable career.

REGISTER FOR THIS SESSION

Join the Programme

All three sessions are free and open to women and gender non-conforming people working across the music industry globally.

Participants are encouraged to attend the full programme, but registration is required for each session separately.

Choose the sessions you'd like to attend above and register to secure your place.

Participants are encouraged to attend all three sessions.

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About Noods Levels 

Noods Levels grew out of 10 years of DIY radio and community building through Noods Radio. What began as Sunday living room sessions evolved into a 24/7 global station, and in 2020 the not-for-profit arm was launched to support the next generation of creatives. Based in Bristol, it helps individuals and organisations build confidence, networks, and sustainable careers through long-term programmes and events.

Reine Abdul Ghafour on Building a Career in Audio, Live Sound and Working With SWANA Artists

Lebanese audio engineer and sound designer Reine Abdul Ghafour works across live sound, mixing and mastering, music production and audio for visual media. Based in the UK, her practice has taken her from intimate artist shows and independent releases to large-scale concert productions, including the 2026 Spring Sequence of New Sounds at Central Hall Westminster, as well as benefit events raising funds for Lebanon, Sudan and Congo.

Growing up in Lebanon, Reine played guitar and became increasingly curious about what happened behind the scenes of the music she loved. That curiosity eventually took her to London to study audio engineering, opening up a practice spanning recording, live production, sound design, mixing and mastering.

Moving to the UK also changed her relationship with the music and culture she grew up around. Having listened to relatively little Arabic music while living in Lebanon, distance prompted her to reconnect with her roots and develop a deeper appreciation for music from across the SWANA region. Today, working with SWANA artists has become an important part of her practice, informed by shared languages, cultural references and experiences.

That connection between sound, place and memory also sits at the centre of her final-year university project, an audio narrative exploring the emotional experience of conflict and distance without relying on images or dialogue. Drawing partly on her own experience of how sounds such as sirens and fireworks could transport her back to Lebanon and thoughts of family, the project uses recorded and designed sound to allow listeners to construct the story themselves. Reine now hopes to develop the work into an immersive sound exhibition in 2027.

Can you tell us a little about yourself and what first drew you to working in sound

I’ve always felt that sound could change the way someone feels. I’ve always found it difficult to express my emotions with words, but music has always been a language I understood. It became the easiest way for me to express myself and connect with other people.

I grew up surrounded by music. I was always listening to it, and I started playing guitar when I was young. The more I learned, the more curious I became about everything happening behind the scenes. I realised there was a whole world beyond performing, including recording, mixing, live sound and sound design, and I wanted to understand how it all worked. That curiosity is what eventually led me into audio engineering. 

What has working in live sound taught you?

The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that the size of the event doesn’t determine how challenging it will be. I’ve worked on everything from intimate gigs to large-scale productions, and every show comes with its own unexpected challenges. One of the most valuable experiences for me was volunteering as a live sound engineer for the “2026 Spring Sequence of New Sounds” concert at Central Hall Westminster. It pushed me out of my comfort zone and reminded me how important it is to think quickly, adapt and stay calm under pressure.

Live sound has taught me to always have a plan B, and ideally a plan C. No matter how well you prepare, something can change at the last minute, so being flexible is just as important as being technically skilled. It’s also taught me to trust my instincts. Early in my career, I sometimes second-guessed myself, but experience has shown me that confidence comes from preparation.

If you’ve done the work and understand what you’re hearing, you have to trust your judgement while still communicating openly with artists and your team. At the end of the day, live sound is about solving problems without letting the audience notice them. The show has to keep moving, and that’s what makes it both challenging and rewarding. 

You’ve also worked closely with artists from the SWANA region throughout your career. How has your background shaped the way you collaborate and communicate with artists?

Interestingly, growing up in Lebanon, I didn’t really listen to much Arabic music. I never imagined that one day I’d be working so closely with artists from the SWANA region. It was only after moving to the UK that I began to reconnect with my roots. Studying music and audio engineering gave me a new appreciation for the richness and complexity of the music I had grown up around but never fully explored. The more I listened, the more I realised how deeply I understood it, not just musically, but culturally.

Working with SWANA artists has felt very natural because we often share a language, cultural references and lived experiences. That doesn’t change the fundamentals of collaboration, but it helps build trust and understanding from the very beginning. Today, I’m incredibly proud of where I come from. I want to play a part in highlighting the creativity, diversity and beauty of music from the SWANA region. Being able to support those artists, both technically and creatively, has become one of the most meaningful parts of my career.

Your final-year project explored the emotional experiences of people from the SWANA region entirely through sound. What inspired the project?

The project was inspired by the emotional impact of conflict and what it feels like to experience it from afar. Growing up in Lebanon, periods of instability were part of life. They didn’t define every day. We still went to school, met friends and carried on with our lives, but they were always there in the background.

When I moved to the UK, I found that certain everyday sounds affected me differently. An ambulance siren or loud fireworks could instantly take me back home and make me think about my family. I realised how strongly sound is connected to memory and emotion. I wanted to explore that through sound alone.

Rather than showing images or using interviews, I wanted listeners to build the story in their own minds. Sound leaves space for imagination, and I believe that can create a deeper emotional connection because everyone visualises the experience differently. The project wasn’t about politics. It was about people. It was about uncertainty, distance and the feeling of waiting for a phone call from home, hoping your loved ones are safe.

More than anything, the project confirmed something I’ve always believed. Sound can tell stories just as powerfully as images. It also sparked my passion for storytelling through audio, and I’m now working towards developing the project into an exhibition so more people can experience it. 

Networking can feel intimidating, especially when you’re starting out in technical roles. What’s the best networking advice you’ve ever received, or the approach that’s helped you build your career?

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that networking isn’t about collecting contacts. It’s about building genuine relationships. Looking back, many of my biggest opportunities didn’t come because I had the most experience. They came because someone trusted me enough to give me a chance. From my first experience in game audio to the opportunities I’ve had in the UK, every step started with a conversation and someone who believed in my potential. That taught me that your reputation matters just as much as your technical skills.

Being reliable, turning up prepared, communicating well and being someone people genuinely enjoy working with will take you a long way. I also believe in saying yes to opportunities, especially early in your career. Volunteering and helping at community events allowed me to gain experience, meet incredible people and continue learning.

Every project introduced me to someone new and opened another door. The best advice I’ve ever followed came from my parents. Always be honest, stay true to yourself and treat people with kindness. Skills can be developed over time, but integrity, reliability and the way you make people feel are what they’ll remember long after the project is over. 

What’s one piece of advice you wish someone had given you when you first started working in audio?

I wish someone had told me that you don’t have to know everything before saying yes to an opportunity. When I first started, I compared myself to everyone around me. I thought I needed to have all the answers before I could take on a project or even charge for my work. Looking back, that mindset only held me back. The truth is, experience comes from doing. Even now, I still get nervous before certain shows or projects. The difference is that I no longer let that fear stop me.

Confidence doesn’t come because you know everything. It grows because you’re willing to step outside your comfort zone and keep learning. I’d also encourage people to communicate honestly. If you’re unsure about something, say so. Ask questions, shadow someone more experienced or volunteer to learn. Most people are far more understanding than we imagine, and everyone started somewhere. No one begins their career knowing everything. The engineers you admire today were once beginners too. The most important thing is to stay curious, keep learning and not let fear stop you from taking that first step. 

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Reine Abdul Ghafour on Instagram | LinkedIn | Portfolio

Namibian Producer, DJ and Songwriter Gina Jeanz on Playing Music in the Sky, Life as an International Artist and New Motherhood

Namibian producer, DJ and songwriter Gina Jeanz has spent the past few years carving out a distinctive place within electronic music, blending Afro House, Afro Tech and organic electronica into a sound rooted in rhythm, movement and storytelling. Originally trained in classical music before immersing herself in Cape Town's electronic scene, she has since taken her music to festivals and venues including Montreux Jazz Festival, Amnesia Ibiza, Caprices Festival and KOKO Electronic, while earning support from Billboard, Beatport, Resident Advisor, DJ Mag and BBC Radio 1Xtra.

Her latest single, Ride, arrives as both a personal and creative milestone. Written in the lead-up to becoming a mother, the track embraces uncertainty, trust and transformation through warm percussion and hypnotic Afro House grooves. It also sits alongside one of Gina's most ambitious projects to date: a DJ set performed from a hot air balloon above the Swiss Alps, bringing to life a dream she'd been working towards for years.

Your DJ set filmed from a hot air balloon over the Swiss landscape is unlike anything we've seen before. What's the story behind the project, and how was playing music in the sky?

This Hot Air Balloon DJ set has been on my bucket list for the longest time. The idea first came to me after seeing a Cercle DJ set years ago. I booked a hot air balloon ride in Namibia to experience it for myself and stayed in touch with the pilot to see if we could make it happen one day.

A few years later, I reached out to him again and found out he'd moved to Europe to fly during the summer season. We didn't end up working together, but he connected me with a friend of his based in Zug. So what started as a dream in Namibia ended up happening in Switzerland, where I live now.

I couldn't have asked for a better outcome because the Swiss landscape is just as breathtaking. With a baby now, doing it here also made much more sense logistically.

I think when you have a dream and actually make it happen, it strengthens your self-belief and builds trust in your own ability to make things happen. This project was proof of that for me.

You've also just released a new single, Ride. Can you tell us a bit about the track?

I started producing Ride a few months before I gave birth. My creative process has shifted a lot since then. I no longer worry about the outcome of a song while I'm making it — I just let the ideas flow.

I've also been trusting myself to sing on my own tracks more, not as a "vocalist" exactly, but leaning into my voice as another instrument in the performance.

At the time, I was feeling a bit anxious about what life would look like with a child, and I didn't want to overwhelm myself with questions I couldn't answer yet. That's really what the lyrics are about.

I had to lean into trusting the journey and letting myself be excited for what's coming instead of fighting the uncertainty of becoming a mum while continuing to be a musician. This song carried me right up until birth, and it feels like the start of a new chapter for me.

You've built an international career while staying connected to your Namibian roots. How has your upbringing influenced the music you make today?

Being a Namibian creative is, in many ways, a radical act. I recently heard this expressed by two Namibian creatives, Betty and Pewa, who collaborated on a recent fashion project together. That really resonated with me because the creative industry back home isn't always built to support artists in the ways it should.

Being able to live from your art is still difficult, particularly for creatives coming from places that are often overlooked, underestimated and lacking in funding and resources.

For me, building an international career is about challenging what people believe is possible and showing others what can be done. I've spent years finding my footing, breaking barriers and learning how to make the most of the resources available to me, so there were a lot of firsts along the way.

There was often a sense that there was a ceiling to what a Namibian artist could achieve internationally. I wanted to push beyond that, not only for myself, but also to challenge those limitations.

My upbringing taught me resilience, adaptability and how to navigate different environments while remaining grounded in who I am. Those qualities have carried me through the many challenges and uncertainties of this industry.

Every step in my journey is connected to where I come from, and I hope that by continuing to build internationally, I can help create more space for the next generation of Namibian creatives to believe there is no limit to what they can achieve.

You've recently become a mum while continuing to tour and perform internationally. What have you learned about balancing motherhood with life on the road, and what advice would you give to other parents working in music who are wondering if it's possible to do both?

Motherhood has taught me to prioritise what's absolutely necessary which sometimes means I don't take every show while I'm still traveling with my little one. I've had to become a lot more mindful of the environment I'm bringing him into and that requires patience and foresight.

For me, logistics come first. I look at each show and ask whether it actually makes sense for both of us. Sometimes I’d have my husband join me and recently bringing a nanny on the road was one of the best decisions I made. I worked it into my budget because I knew I couldn't do this alone and still show up fully for my shows, so having the extra hands makes a huge difference.

Compared to traveling solo, there's just more to consider now like feeding schedules, getting ready, transitions between airports and cities. So most of the work happens before I even leave: planning ahead so that once we're moving, we can flow through it all with a bit more ease instead of scrambling.

It's absolutely possible, but the goal isn't to prove you can do everything exactly like before. It's to find your own version of balance, build in support, and give yourself grace when the old way of doing things doesn't fit anymore.

Many emerging producers struggle with confidence, especially when they're working alone. What helped you trust your instincts in the studio?

Confidence is something you can build and strengthen over time. For me, that starts with believing in myself, trusting my vision and giving my ideas the space and time to develop — the key word being time.

Working alone is often part of the creative journey, and it can teach you a lot about your own instincts. But I've also learned that you don't have to do everything alone. Knowing when to ask for help, seek feedback or collaborate with others is just as important.

Collaboration not only helps you grow creatively, but it also builds meaningful relationships, and this industry is built around working with people. Being part of a community and maintaining relationships matter, at least to me.

I've learned to continuously work on myself, both personally and creatively, so I can show up as my best self. The more I've grown to trust myself, embrace feedback without taking it personally and remain open to learning, the more confident I've become in my own creative voice.

Networking can feel intimidating, especially when you're starting out. What's the best networking advice you've ever received, or the tip that's helped you most throughout your career?

The worst thing that can happen is that someone says no — and even then, I try to see it as redirection rather than failure. A "no" doesn't necessarily mean you're not good enough. Sometimes it simply means the opportunity, timing or connection isn't right, and that there may be something better aligned with where you're going.

Networking has played a huge role in building my career, especially as an independent artist. When you're independent, you don't always have a large team opening doors or creating opportunities for you. You have to be willing to put yourself out there, as scary as it is, introduce yourself, share what you do and actively seek out spaces that can help you grow.

That's why I attend social events, workshops and industry gatherings. You never know who you might meet, what you might learn or which conversation could lead to a meaningful opportunity.

Networking isn't just about approaching people because you need something from them. It's about nurturing genuine relationships and becoming part of a community you're passionate about. The strongest connections are built through mutual support, consistency, trust and showing genuine interest in other people's work as well.

I'm fortunate to have worked with incredible people in my community who believe in what I do, support my vision and advocate for me in rooms that I may not be in. Those relationships exist because I was willing to show up and support them too.

You don't need to walk into a room knowing everyone, and you don't need to have all the answers. Start by being curious, genuine and open to conversation. Put yourself in the rooms where you want to grow, nurture the relationships you build and don't be afraid to ask. Sometimes one conversation can open a door — but you have to be willing to introduce yourself first.

For artists who want to start producing their own music but don't know where to begin, what advice would you give them?

Take the time to actively explore and discover what you genuinely love and what inspires you. The technical side is something you'll continue developing over time, and the tools are more accessible than ever today, so getting started with production is much easier than when I first began.

There are so many opportunities to learn and experiment, so take the time to develop your ear and personal taste. It's easy to get caught up in what everyone else is doing, but your uniqueness comes from knowing your own perspective, your influences and the stories you want to tell.

Create habits, routines and practices that become part of how you move through the world creatively. You'd be surprised how much discipline can reveal about yourself, not just as an artist but as a person.

The more you commit to exploring your own ideas, the more you begin to understand your own creative language.

For me, producing music is also about world-building. You're creating a space, a feeling and an experience that comes from your own imagination, and that's really something special.

When you've had a difficult or stressful day, how do you unwind and reset?

I used to unwind mostly by reading books, which is still something I enjoy, but lately I've rediscovered a love for playing chess. I used to play casually for fun when I was younger, and now, as an adult, I appreciate it on a completely different level.

It gives me a chance to disconnect from everything else while still keeping my mind engaged. It's both relaxing and challenging at the same time, which helps me shift my energy away from the stresses of the day.

I also love pampering myself now more than ever as a mum — I need that time to love on myself.

Resetting is really about finding balance: having moments that stimulate my mind, moments that bring me joy and moments where I can simply slow down and take care of myself.

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Gina Jeanz on Instagram

British-Iranian Artist TĀLĀ on 11, Building Confidence in the Studio and Trusting Your Creative Instincts

British-Iranian singer, songwriter and producer TĀLĀ has built a career defined by curiosity, experimentation and an instinct for crossing musical boundaries. Drawing from her Iranian heritage alongside alternative R&B, electronic music and the UK underground, she first emerged in 2014 with her self-produced The Duchess EP, quickly attracting attention for a sound that felt both deeply personal and difficult to categorise. Over the years, she has continued to evolve as both an artist and producer, collaborating across genres, executive producing BANKS' fourth album Serpentina, and working with artists including ENNY, while establishing herself as one of the UK's most distinctive independent voices.

Her latest album, 11, released in July, marks another turning point. Inspired by a number that has repeatedly appeared throughout her life, the record explores duality, transformation and the search for balance, reflecting on the tension between light and darkness, certainty and doubt, and the experiences that shape us. It's an introspective collection that finds TĀLĀ looking both inward and outward, pairing deeply personal songwriting with the genre-blurring production that has become her signature.

Your new album 11 explores themes of duality, transformation and self-discovery. What's the story behind the album, and why did 11 feel like the right title?

I've always been drawn to the number 11, it showed up at so many important times in my life and there are so many synchronicities around it for me. I was born on the 11th, my daughter too and I got married on the 11th. The number represents duality which felt very fitting for the themes and sound of my album which explores the themes of how and we need the ups and the downs, the light and the dark and both things to find balance.  

Many emerging producers struggle with confidence, especially when they're working alone. What helped you trust your instincts in the studio?

My community and my friends who are creatives. Whenever I'm lost in my own head or fighting imposter syndrome it's my creative circle who I trust that pulls me out and gives me perspective. 

What’s your favourite/least favourite thing about making music?

My favorite is obviously making the music, especially with friends or when im in the zone, locked in and the minutes and days can just pass me by.

Least favourite is the business and admin side, I don't enjoy that side and thats why I have my manager to help me with those areas.

What’s your best networking tip to connect with the right people in the industry?

Just go to the gig, send the Dm to the producer you would love to work with, don't be scared to say hello and that you love what someone is doing. Your fav artist and producer appreciate it more than you think

For artists who want to start producing their own music but don't know where to begin, what advice would you give them?

Just do the thing. Get the music software program that feels fun to you, even if you dont know what your doing just experiment and have fun. There are so many tools and tutorials out there now. Bite sized tik toks that show you how to record vocals, ways to learn chords without a piano lesson. There is so much out there!!

Balancing writing, producing, performing and running a studio is a lot. How do you protect your creativity and avoid burnout?

I like to take walks and be in nature and when I've been going for too long on something, I just take a break, call a friend and make sure I have some space 

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TĀLĀ on Instagram

Stream I Need It

American-Armenian Art-Rap Duo Samuum on Coffee Cup Reading and Asking Questions Through Music

American-Armenian art-rap duo Samuum was founded by filmmaker and musician Ando Berberian and vocalist Lusine Kocharian, but the project really began with an accident.

During a rehearsal, a heavily delayed vocal effect transformed Kocharian's voice into what she describes as "a witch screaming somewhere in the middle of a desert." In that unexpected moment, the pair realised they had stumbled across the sound they'd been searching for after years of playing in other bands together.

Blending rap, punk, rave and Middle Eastern musical traditions, Samuum write songs shaped by the realities of life across the region, where conflict, displacement and uncertainty exist alongside everyday rituals that endure.

Their latest single, Coffee Cup Reading (Yaman, Pt.2), takes inspiration from the tradition of reading fortunes from coffee grounds, exploring how ordinary customs can become a source of comfort when little else feels certain.

For readers discovering Samuum for the first time, how would you describe the band, and what inspired you to create this project together?

You know, first of all, Samuum is the band we always dreamed of having when we were teenagers.

When I was young, I always imagined a band that felt incredibly powerful—something with the raw energy of System of a Down at its core—but at the same time something sophisticated and spiritual, almost like Krishna Das.

Before Samuum, Ando and I had played in quite a few bands together. They were good bands, but none of them ever felt complete.
Everything changed when we started working on what would eventually become Samuum. We didn't even have the name yet back then. I still remember the day we wrote our very first song, Asel. It happened completely by accident.

During one rehearsal, we accidentally put these long, distorted vocal delays on my voice while I was singing in Armenian. Suddenly I sounded like a witch screaming somewhere in the middle of a desert—and definitely not like the proper jazz singer I'd always been.
It may sound naïve, but that was the moment we realised we'd found something very special—almost like the universal language we'd been looking for to communicate with people.

Your new single Coffee Cup Reading (Yaman, Pt.2) explores anxiety through the tradition of reading coffee grounds. What's the story behind the song, and why did this feel like the right way to tell it?  

You know, we're from the Middle East, and here almost nothing lasts forever.
Governments change, wars begin, borders move—it's simply part of the daily routine here. Everything around you can disappear overnight.

The only things that seem immortal are the everyday traditions: making coffee, smoking a cigarette together on the balcony, reading coffee grounds with your grandmother, eating khash (a traditional Armenian pork soup) with apricot vodka during family gatherings.
Also weddings! And taking out bank loans to make them huge! All these things may seem insignificant at first glance, but in reality they're the only things that truly last. They're the pillars that hold everything together when everything bigger falls apart.  

Coffee Cup Reading is completely about that insight.
Musically, we also wanted the song to reflect what life here actually feels like. It begins almost playfully, almost peacefully... and then suddenly explodes in the chorus.

You've spoken about coffee cup reading as a ritual that brings comfort during uncertain times. Are there other traditions or everyday rituals that help keep you grounded?

Lusine: Definitely ayahuasca. (laughs) I do it often enough to consider it a ritual.
I've had some incredibly powerful experiences with it. It felt like meeting my ancestors, confronting parts of myself I'd never understood before, and opening a completely new chapter in my life.

Ando: I'm much less mystical. I just do 40–50 push-ups a day. I also do them in the middle of any boring process—while a track is rendering, while a video is rendering, or even in the middle of a dumb date.
Looks like I've found the ultimate cure for boredom.

Your music brings together Middle Eastern influences with rap, punk, rave and electronic music. How did you find a sound that reflects both your heritage and your own artistic identity?

We grew up listening to bands like Blink-182, Nine Inch Nails, The Cure and Radiohead. Later we discovered more experimental artists like Emerson, Lake & Palmer, Lou Reed and The Mars Volta…

The interesting thing is that most of the music we loved had one thing in common: it wasn't giving answers—it was asking questions. We think that's the best approach when it comes to complicated topics in art, like heritage, traditions or identity.

We were constantly trying to understand ourselves and everything we saw around us in our society and in the Middle East in general. So we wanted to find a musical language that could fully reflect that constant state of questioning. That's how we ended up packaging Samuum's vision of life into punk, noise and rave.

We were also sonically shaped by a couple of random but incredibly powerful events. The first was a Young Fathers concert in Kyiv back in 2015. It was probably one of the most intense concerts we've ever experienced. Everyone was sweating, everything felt tribal and incredibly human.

The second was Yasmin Hamdan's album Ya Nass. Those two experiences made us jealous—in the best possible way. We thought, "We want to sound like this. We want to jump on stage like this."

You've spoken about giving a voice to emotions that often go unspoken, particularly for women in Armenian culture. Why is creating space for those conversations so important to you?

Because I think artists have something many people don't—the chance to be heard. And that's both a privilege and a responsibility. The people we write about often don't have the opportunity to express everything they're carrying inside.
So I feel responsible for translating those emotions. I've always seen myself as some kind of transmitter.

I grew up in Armenia during the difficult years of the 1990s. There was war. No electricity. No gas. No water. Cold. Darkness. And I grew up surrounded by incredibly strong women carrying enormous responsibility while many men were away at war. I saw women who lacked opportunities, security and emotional support. I've carried those experiences with me ever since.

So in many ways I feel like those women are still speaking through me. I'm simply trying to give shape to emotions that were always there.

Many artists worry about being "too political" or "too personal". Have you ever felt pressure to tone down your message, and how do you stay true to your voice?

We've definitely been criticized. But honestly, we've received much more love than hate.

I think that's because we don't present difficult topics aggressively. Mostly through irony. And, you know, it's much harder to argue against something said through irony than against something said through aggression.

Networking can feel intimidating, especially for emerging artists. What's the best networking advice you've ever received?

One of the best conversations we ever had was with Tony Duckworth. He was one of the heads of PIAS, and unfortunately he passed away shortly after Covid.

We met him at a music conference in Kyiv. At that point, getting signed to a label felt like the ultimate goal. We kept, probably quite annoyingly, insisting that industry professionals listen to our music.

Tony listened to our music carefully, said a couple of warm words about our songwriting, and then added:

"Guys, don't chase a label. Chase joy. Play more shows, make more videos, and we'll find you much faster than you think." 

We didn't leave with a record deal that day.
But we left with something far more valuable: a huge boost of confidence and much stronger self-esteem.

Thank you, Tony.

What's one piece of advice you wish someone had given you when you first started making music?

Now that I'm getting closer to my mid-thirties, I realise I've probably lost quite a lot of time. Nobody ever told me how deeply success is connected to faith.
I grew up hearing things like: "Try it first. See if it works. But even if it works, keep a backup plan. Better yet, get yourself a good 9-to-5."

Today I think completely differently. If you genuinely feel that music is your calling—if every part of your soul resonates with it—don't wait until you're thirty to commit. Commit while you're still seventeen.

Don't split your energy between five different careers out of fear.Go all in.
I really wish someone had told me that with enough confidence back then.

Maybe that's one of the reasons why I regret never reading the Bible properly.
Because that advice has been there for two thousand years already. It says:

"According to your faith, it shall be done unto you."

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Samuum on Instagram | Coffee Cup Reading (Yaman, pt.2)

Isis Salvaterra on Building a Sustainable Career in Electronic Music

For more than two decades, Isis Salvaterra has built a career that spans artist management, events, coaching and consultancy, establishing herself as a familiar figure within London's underground electronic music community and beyond.

As the founder of Toi Toi Musik, she oversees a platform encompassing artist management, events and a record label, while through ISCoaching she works with artists, creatives and professionals from around the world, combining cognitive behavioural coaching with years of experience working across the music industry.

Alongside her work with Toi Toi, Salvaterra has contributed to projects including Club Guesthouse in Bucharest, Trommel and fabric's international touring programme, while also leading charitable initiatives that have brought the electronic music community together to support humanitarian causes.

Underpinning much of her work is an academic background in Psychology, Sociology, Politics and Ethnomusicology, disciplines that continue to inform her approach to coaching, artist development and community building.

You originally studied Psychology, Sociology, Politics, and later Ethnomusicology before fully moving into music. What first drew you into electronic music culture and the industry itself?

Dancing. I grew up in Brazil, surrounded by an incredibly rich musical culture, and I’ve been dancing since I was five years old. Samba, Lambada, Salsa, Forró, Merengue—you name it. The only dance I never pursued was Tango. It requires an extraordinary level of discipline, much like ballet. As a child, my sister was placed in ballet classes while I was sent to jazz dance. Looking back, that made perfect sense. I was always a little looser, freer, and less suited to highly structured environments.

Alongside dancing, I always loved bringing people together. I rarely went to a party without a large group of friends, and I was constantly organising school events and social gatherings. In many ways, community-building and celebration were already part of my life long before I entered the music industry. Electronic music simply became the place where all of those passions naturally converged.

You’ve worked across artist management, touring, events, coaching, charity initiatives, PR, and consultancy. How did you build such a multi-layered career across different areas of the music industry?

The truth is, it was never intentional. I’m an extremely curious person, and I’m also a doer. Those two traits alone probably explain most of my career. I’ve always been the person asking “why?”, and dance music is a remarkably multidisciplinary ecosystem. Every aspect of it is interconnected; artists, audiences, promoters, venues, media, technology, culture—they all depend on one another. I find that fascinating.

Having an academic background also gave me a broad set of skills and ways of thinking that translated across different roles, regardless of the subject I happened to be studying at the time. The deeper I became involved in dance music, the more opportunities emerged to contribute in different ways. One thing naturally led to another.

Most importantly, none of these roles were part of a master plan. By the time I officially took on a title, I had usually been doing the work unofficially for years already. In the end, they are just job titles, and I’ve never been particularly attached to them.

You’ve been deeply connected to London’s underground electronic music scene and spaces like fabric for over two decades. How have you seen underground culture evolve during that time?

Yes and no.

In some ways, the fundamentals have remained remarkably consistent. People are still searching for connection, discovery, belonging, and transcendence through music. Those motivations haven't changed.

What has changed is the environment around the culture. Technology, social media, the attention economy, and shifts in nightlife infrastructure have all transformed how scenes are built and experienced.

We are living through a particularly unusual period right now—one that I hope is transitional. There is a growing tension between community and consumption, between culture and content. It will be interesting to see where the balance settles in the coming years.

Through Toi Toi, Club Guesthouse, fabric tours, and Trommel, you’ve helped shape communities around music. What do you think makes a music community genuinely sustainable and long-lasting?

The simple answer is that it remains a community rather than becoming purely transactional.

People stay because they feel a sense of belonging, not because they are being sold something. Sustainable communities are built on shared values, trust, contribution, and meaningful relationships. The moment everything becomes a transaction, the social fabric starts to disappear. Music may bring people together initially, but it is the human connections that keep communities alive over time.

Networking is such a major part of the music industry. What practical advice would you give to emerging artists, managers, or promoters trying to build authentic relationships and connections?

Networking is often misunderstood because people treat it as a task rather than a natural extension of participation.

I often give my mentees this example: you can wake up on a Monday morning and spend hours doing Discogs research, which can feel like another item on your to-do list. Or you can find yourself at an afterparty, jumping into a spontaneous b2b2b2b session with several artists, sharing music, stories, and ideas. By the end of the night, your knowledge has expanded far beyond what you might have discovered alone, and you've built genuine human connections in the process.

The point is not that one approach is better than the other, but that relationships are often where the richest learning happens. The music industry is ultimately a people industry. Curiosity, participation, generosity, and genuine engagement will take you much further than approaching networking as a purely strategic exercise.

Many people struggle to balance creativity, career pressure, and mental health in the music industry. What inspired you to launch ISCoaching, and what are some of the biggest challenges you see creatives facing today?

ISCoaching was launched during the pandemic at Electronic Beats - see video here. At the time, I was living between London and Bucharest, I was working at Club Guesthouse. When you spend time in a cultural environment shaped by the legacy of an oppressive system such as communism, you begin to understand many of the psychosocial behaviours that emerge from collective and intergenerational trauma.

For artists to truly express themselves, they first need the freedom to do so. Part of our work, therefore, is helping people identify and remove the barriers created by past experiences, conditioning, and trauma, allowing their creativity and authentic selves to emerge more freely.

Today, I work with clients all over the world, both within and outside the creative industries. One of the most common challenges I encounter is the fear of disapproval. We live in a highly visual and hyper-documented world where so much attention is directed towards the self. This constant exposure often leads people to become overly subjective and self-critical.

For creatives in particular, learning to view their work more objectively is essential. It allows them to separate their identity from their output, develop healthier self-assessment, build confidence, and avoid becoming trapped in cycles of overthinking. In many cases, the greatest obstacle to creativity is not a lack of talent, but the inability to trust oneself.

For artists or creatives trying to approach brands, festivals, or platforms for opportunities, what makes someone stand out professionally today?

If we're talking specifically about festivals, agency representation remains one of the primary routes to securing bookings. Agencies have the networks, relationships, and infrastructure to ensure an artist's work reaches the right promoters, programmers, and decision-makers.

That said, when it comes to building a lasting career and becoming part of a community, I still believe the most effective approach is the most human one. Being present, participating in the culture, sharing music, exchanging ideas, and genuinely engaging with people remains invaluable. The strongest opportunities often emerge organically through relationships built over time rather than through cold outreach alone.

In electronic music especially, credibility is still rooted in participation. People can tell when someone truly loves the culture and contributes to it, versus when they are simply trying to extract opportunities from it. Human interaction, musical exchange, and a genuine passion for the scene continue to be some of the most powerful differentiators a creative can have.

Finally, after more than 20 years in music and culture, what advice would you give to younger creatives trying to build a meaningful and sustainable career in the industry?

First, understand that DJing is a craft. It requires skill, knowledge, experience, sensitivity, and patience. It is a far more complex art form than simply beatmatching records or selecting "bombs" for the dancefloor.

One thing I would like to see more often in younger artists is the confidence to step back when necessary rather than constantly pushing forward. There is value in observing, learning, listening, and allowing things to develop organically. Not every opportunity needs to be chased, and not every door needs to be forced open.

There are also two principles that I have always considered essential. First: never self-praise. Let your work speak for itself. Second: never ask for gigs. Instead, focus on showing your work in a way that naturally demonstrates your value and contribution. How you do that is part of the journey each artist must discover for themselves.

Ultimately, a sustainable career is built on substance rather than visibility. Focus on developing your taste, your knowledge, your relationships, and your understanding of the culture. Recognition may come and go, but those foundations will stay with you throughout your entire career.

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Isis Salvaterra on Instagram | ISCoaching

Palestinian Cultural Practitioner Christina Hazboun on Documenting the World Through Sound

Christina Hazboun by Samar Hazboun in the olive groves

Christina Hazboun is a Palestinian writer, researcher, curator and cultural practitioner whose work explores the relationship between music, sound, memory and place. Working across journalism, radio, research and cultural production, she has become one of the leading voices documenting musical cultures from Palestine and the wider SWANA (South West Asia and North Africa) region, while championing artists and stories that have long existed beyond mainstream music narratives.

As the founder of The Sonic Agent, Hazboun has developed an interdisciplinary platform that brings together writing, broadcasting, curation and artist development to examine sound not simply as culture, but as a form of documentation, resistance and collective memory. Her work asks what music, field recordings and everyday listening can reveal about a place that words or images alone often cannot, preserving sonic histories that risk being forgotten or erased. Alongside her independent practice, she serves as UK Project Manager for Keychange at PRS Foundation, where she works to advance greater equity and intersectionality across the international music industry.

Hazboun's writing has appeared in publications including The Guardian, The Quietus, Bandcamp Daily, The New Arab and Middle East Eye, while her audio work has been broadcast by platforms such as Stegi Radio and Radio AlHara. Whether documenting contemporary Palestinian music, producing soundwalks through Bethlehem and Jerusalem, or supporting artists from across the SWANA region, her work consistently returns to a central question: who gets to tell cultural histories, and how might listening offer another way of understanding them?

You've worked across writing, research, radio, curation and cultural production. What first drew you to working with music and sound as a way of telling stories?

The “first” is an interesting starting point, but life is a series of sparks that make one big fire, so pinpointing that one spark isn’t easy. I was lucky to grow up in Bethlehem, in a household surrounded by music, radio, books and research. I remember that one of the most intriguing books I picked up as a 10 year old was a book on Sumerian legends that had references to a story similar to Noah’s arch, but was much older. The Sumerians developed one of the world’s oldest writing systems and when you grow up in a city like Bethlehem, Palestine and you have to go to church every morning at school, and sing songs based on Biblical stories, you start to question the preservation of history and the importance of writing and song in carrying those moments forth. 

Then there was the whole reality that we were immersed in: the constant listening to radio before the advent of digital media and mobile phones for news updates to understand if there are incursions, curfews or other events unfolding, in addition to the omnipresence of music in our house and my immediate surrounding: my mother would play the piano and teach us to play; one of my extended uncles had a band and we would gather around to listen to their music. There were also weddings and engagements, in addition to social occasions and celebrations which were THE moment to dance and celebrate life in moments of calm. Palestinian society in the end is a mediterranean society that loves life, music and joy, it’s just that we’ve been unfortunate to be colonized for so long, that grief plays a big part in our lives. 

preparing for soundwalking in Bethlehem photo by Nadir Mauj

I remember being 4 or 5 and seeing a keyboardist at an engagement party whose synth riffs were just ecstatic. As I was dancing and watching him play, one of my aunts told me that he was blind, which made me think about how he perceives the world around him. 

So my practice became an accumulation of all those sensory experiences that I was surrounded by, but most of them were “produced” by male bodied people. I wanted to see women write and tell our histories and stories too and I thought that instead of convincing someone else to do it, I can give it a go. 

Many precious souls encouraged me to expand my knowledge and practice along the way. Two important people in terms of writing were Professor of Cultural and Political Theory at the University of East London  Jeremy Jilbert and Scottish Pakistani journalist  and senior producer Zab Mustefa. In terms of radio and audio, it was Caspar Melville, may he rest in power, who deepened my knowledge of audio work, in addition to professor emeritus Angela Impey who drew my attention to deeper layers of listening. 

The Sonic Agent has become a platform for amplifying voices and sonic histories that are often overlooked or erased. What inspired you to create it?

I had been working in the music industry for a while and I was noticing who would be given visibility and who wouldn’t. I saw how women bodied people were more humble and shy about their rights (payments, line-up order, etc.) in comparison to male-bodied counterparts and how patriarchal the industry was, with elements of patronizing and domination which I wasn’t comfortable with. I decided to move from the seat of the spectator to the person who does something about it. One of my early steps came when I was studying at SOAS where I took a course on Broadcasting and discovered that SOAS Radio had no programmes dedicated to music from South West Asia and North Africa. So I decided to start a radio show which I called DanDana podcast and invite a couple of friends to join me. I had been inspired by the work done on the Palestine Broadcast Service, which was founded in Palestine in 1936 by the British “Mandate” and was acutely aware that we need to have our own platforms through which we tell the stories of our music and the radio became one of those mediums.

When I started writing my thesis on the Palestinian contemporary music scene I was reading Fanon and Brandon LaBelle and the concepts of “agency” kept popping up, and I pondered how voice and sound are important in making spaces for our demands. I made a conscious decision to listen to more women throughout my research, because of the challenges they were facing. This was all happening before 2020, and then in 2021 the May Uprising erupted, when many Palestinians went into the streets of Sheikh Jarrah to protect the home of Mohammed and Muna El-Kurd and 27 Palestinian families from being displaced. At the time people on the streets were using their voices, chants, singing, clapping and noise to counter the military industrial violence and I was documenting those sonic acts through my diaries and recordings. This all culminated in my piece Sonic Strategies in the Palestinian Struggle – A Soundtrack of the May 2021 Uprising in Palestine. 

Christina Hazboun and Etaf at Worldwide FM studio - Phot by Pedro Montenegro

In parallel I started working with Palestinian singer Terez Sliman and we were planning tours and performances across Europe and I also worked with Rasha Nahas and Bashar Murad and I saw the practical implementation of voice, gender and music through pushing back at the music industry via different means whether that is at soundchecks where as a woman bodied person I am often treated as though I have no idea about technology, or with techriders and hospitality riders where certain equipment, products, foods and beverages assume a deeper meaning than their use in the performance. Take for example a hospitality rider and the constant assumption that everyone drinks alcohol, or the provision of “hummus” without thinking who has made it. Little details can make a difference. 

When I noticed that most pieces written about music from our part of the world were written “about” us and often through a lens that doesn’t accurately reflect reality, I decided to start writing on music as well. Bandcamp have been very supportive and have often provided a great space for me to write through my eclectic taste. 

And then there were the more practical elements of working with touring artists where you need to demand that your boundaries are respected within festivals and venues whether we’re talking about booking travel at reasonable hours to be mindful towards the artist and their crew, or thinking of the safety of artists who are performing from multiple perspectives that are outside of the Anglo-European-music industry norms, especially when it comes to Palestinian artists. 

The last few years since 2023 were especially difficult, in terms of festivals and spaces for music trying to impose restrictions and censoring Palestinian voices. And those forms of censorship can be very mellow and mild, from asking you kindly to “say things differently” (i.e. asking me not to be clearly outspoken) or having to “check if it’s safe” for festivals and events for me or the artists I worked with to speak out about what was being done to our people. But I’m glad that many people have been brave enough and have been speaking out against injustice, because as Audre Lorde says “Your silence will not protect you”. 

Much of your work explores Palestine through music, sound and listening. What can sound reveal about a place or a community that words alone sometimes can't?

Not only words, but also images can’t reveal certain elements that sound and music can. I think that there is something more honest and raw about sound than images and words, and this is why I like to collect field-recordings. Music, sound and listening activate inner senses that make space for internal reflections and freedom of imagination, while also revealing smaller nuances about the person or the place “speaking”. Take for example my soundwalk essays Echoes of Space and listen to the soundwalk of Jerusalem.

You will hear the sounds of Old Jerusalem’s streets bustling and busy with people, you will “overhear” the stories of passers-by and flaneurs who will enter your listening sphere so naturally without posing, because those moments were not staged nor orchestrated. They reflect the “crude” reality without much beautification and they reflect moments and sounds that are now gone and the reality is completely different. A hundred years from now, what would the city sound like? Not many people are keeping an “ear” on those changes of space and place. Since 2021 more people have become aware of the importance of sound and have been focusing on it, but there is still a lot to say about listening and the changing of sounds, spaces and souls all around. 

Christina Hazboun at Stegi Radio

If anyone is interested in listening to soundwalks, then I’d invite “listeners” to lend their ears to THIS soundwalk cum live broadcast that I did with fellow Bethlehemite artist Nadir Mauj as we walked from Checkpoint 300, through the Islamic cemetery and into the Aida Refugee camp. We move through our ancestral geographies shaped by division and displacement, where multiple layers of cyclical time collide. It was important for me to document our walking through sound as a form of connection and embodied archive. 

In a more recent experimental writing project titled “Sonic Evocations of the Visual” which appears in the publication Trigger #6 Assemblies I have worked with five Palestinian photographers to “listen through images” following Tina Campt’s theories. By exploring the layers of the imaginatively heard, audibly forecast and silenced, I dug into deeper histories and times of the five spaces: Bethlehem, Jerusalem, Gaza, Tul Karem and Nur Shams refugee camp to explore the stories that those images tell us. So for example the photo from Gaza is of fishermen who have been banned from entering the sea to practice tjhe centuries old craft of fishing. This was often accompanied by signing up until the late 1960s, then two things happened: motorboats arrived and the rise of the Islamist tide which both changed the nature and volume of singing. The recent genocide has obviously silenced the fishermen, and the naturally silent fish as well! 

Music on the other hand makes stories easier to tell and digest. Take for example the work and lyrics of Kuwaiti artist Etaf with whom I have also worked. On “Don’t Call Me Baby”  Etaf uses cultural references from both the Arabic-speaking world and Britain to portray the spirit of love and relationships, as well as the playful, vibrant world they seek to blend through the inter-cultural and interdisciplinary practice in a pretty unique musical expression bringing in gulf rhythms with pop aesthetics with a London sound. Music can add playfulness and light-heartedness to the heavier and more serious matters that we face in this world and that we sometimes can't express as bluntly as we would like to. 

No matter what, words are important in preserving and passing on practices, experiences and memories, especially when it comes to music. Dear friend and festival director of Beirut and Beyond International Music Festival Amani Semaan has also been aware of this in addition to the scarcity of writers on music and sound in the Arabic speaking world, so she and her colleague Yara Mrad invited me and French scholar Pierre France to develop a bespoke writing workshop that we called The Craft of Writing About Music & Sound for the community in Beirut. Our work documented live events and musics which were part of the festival’s programming and the outcome was a beautiful series of written pieces by Lebanese writers documenting their own scene. So much more work is needed in that regard.

As UK Project Manager for Keychange, you've helped shape conversations around equity and representation across the music industry. What changes have you been most encouraged by, and where do you think there's still the most work to do?

Keychange have been one of the pioneering gender equity initiatives in music since their inception in 2017. From inviting festivals to achieve a 50/50 gender balance to actively encouraging conferences to programme more gender-diverse acts, Keychange have made a mark on the landscape of the music industries through the collaborative work of several unique individuals from across Europe. I took over the project in the UK from Francine Gorman in 2023 and have tried in cooperation with my colleagues to make many changes in terms of how we operate the Pledge.

One of the first things I set off doing based on the Action Plan was to raise more awareness of intersectional dimensions. The ecosystems within the music industries differs widely between different geographies in Europe and Canada and the way we have been engaged with festivals through programming our acts and planning our presence has given us space to encourage critical thinking and widening of perspectives in an ever evolving and shifting climate.

The Pledge workshops sessions at different festivals are there to invite more music industry bodies to self-monitor their gender and intersectional “music operations” no matter what they are; whether that means programming at festivals or radio stations, or designing their websites and newsletters. Language also plays a huge part in how we remain inclusive and accessible. The current Keychange Leaders project aims to equip women and gender diverse people in leadership positions to take the lead within their fields to create a more equitable future.

That said, there are many brilliant initiatives that have been around since then like shesaid.so and We Make Noise in addition to the many who have emerged since We Are The Unheard, Amplify Her Voice, Arte Sonica Amplificada (Brazil), Ruidosa (Chile/Global LatAm) or The Leading Vibe Initiative (Nigeria). In the Arabic speaking world there was Jidariyya and there are more recent and mainstream initiatives, but the grassroots ecosystem of music and gender-equity seems to be often driven by artists and their supporting networks as opposed to more formal initiatives, which actually highlights the importance of collaborative and cooperative work across the violence of borders, hegemony and patriarchy, especially in these times. 

For someone interested in working across research, curation and cultural programming, where would you recommend they begin?

Networking can feel intimidating, especially when you're entering the industry without existing connections. What's the best networking advice you've ever received, or the tip that's helped you most throughout your career?

Networking can have many aims and connotations, but personally I feel like there is nothing better than a genuine connection with the person who is standing in front of you. We all have stories and experiences to share, and it is fascinating to listen to people’s experiences if they are willing to share. I would say, first and foremost “show up”. Someone once said “80% of success is showing up”. It took me a while to understand what it means, but it is actually the act of being present that takes the most effort, and then what follows next is in the hands of the universe. 

Bodies of Sound (Becoming a Feminist Ear) book launch at Cafe Oto

I would say always remain genuine and curious and don’t be afraid to ask and introduce yourself. Most people are nice and happy to talk about their work and what they’re doing and you can find common interests or questions that ignite your interest.

I have come across some people (especially men) who would initially brush me aside as “less senior” or “foreign” (whether it’s my accent or the way I look, some people can make funny comments like “So, what “extraction” are you?” in an attempt to understand where I come from) but that is all about their own perceptions and insecurities or preferences and that doesn’t affect who I am (or who you, as a person trying to make it in the music industry are).

So I would say just remain nice and curious and if a situation is uncomfortable you can walk away. 

The most valuable advice I received though was from Martin Goldschmitt, founder of Cooking Vinyl and co-founder of Palestine Music Expo who told me once when I was thinking about starting The Sonic Agent that I should just do what I want to do and keep doing it. He said that everything will follow after. It’s also in line with one of my favourite quotes by Rumi which says “What you seek is seeking you”. 

What's one piece of advice you wish someone had given you when you were starting out?

I have recently delivered a mentoring session to a beautiful group of womxn from Georgia, Armenia and Azerbeijan who are taking part in the Empowering Women in The Music Industries initiative Music Export Georgia co-founded by Keychange alumni Mariam Karalashvili-Laan and Salome Vardanashvil and your question resonates with questions I received from women who took part in the session. There is a lot of advice to share though, as the music industries are a wild space and not always “safe”.

We still need to talk about the multi-layered inequalities that prevail due to dominance, but the most important advice is to trust your “gut” instinct and always follow your heart. Check in with yourself and see if the person you’re dealing with is genuine, caring and aligns with your values.

I often see women making compromises in order to make it in the industry, while men are more ready to challenge the status quo (especially when it comes to payments).  And to be honest, it is important that we try to stay true to our values and aspirations, despite all the challenges and always ask for what we need. If someone can’t provide that, then check in with yourself and see how that aligns with where you’re heading. 

Listening Session at Linecheck 2024 with Claudio Biazzetti.

What are you listening to at the moment?

I’m listening to a wildly eclectic selection of musics. I often try to keep my “ear to the ground” and so have been listening to Palestinian artist Ahmed Eid’s latest album “min ghazzeh la baghdad min haifa la beirut من غزة لبغداد من حيفا لبيروت. I really like the track ilhilm y’oud الحلم يعود (The dream returns). Ahmed has been doing amazing work with The Palestine Music Space in Ramallah working with emerging artists and sharing his experience with people on the ground. 

I have also had the opportunity to have a sneak-listen to Belgian-Tunisian artist, DJ, composer Sara Dziri’s upcoming EP “Sacred Disorientations” which is coming out on her newly launched record label SILT on the 4th of September. She has so far released one track titled “Aziyar” and the whole EP has a very spiritual feel that transitions from spiritual beliefs to moving bodies on the dancefloor. 

Given my latest work within Keychange and PRS Foundation on the Music Export Georgia project I have also had the opportunity to “listen in” to a wide range of musics from Georgia, Armenia and Azerbeijan. I have been finding the work and compositions of Lusine MLKE-Galstyan with her band Tiezerk really compelling and soothing. I especially found “Zartir” from their 2024 album “To Me or To You” moving. 

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Christina Hazboun on Instagram | LinkedIn | The Sonic Agent

Via Perkins on Brand Marketing, Artist Support and Building Better Music Businesses

Via Perkins is a music marketing leader, independent artist and community advocate whose career spans brand services, startups and music-tech. Currently serving as Marketing Lead at Fave and SVP of Content & Community Marketing at Feeture, she previously helped lead international content marketing at CD Baby, one of the most influential names in independent music distribution.

Alongside her work in marketing, Via releases music as vialiveshere and is a frequent speaker, moderator and mentor, having contributed to organisations and events including Women In Music, The Digilogue, jump.global and Music Biz. Known for her perspective on the distinction between artist and brand marketing, she is also a vocal advocate for greater investment in women- and minority-led music businesses. In this interview, Via shares insights on music marketing, networking, creativity, artist support and building a more sustainable future for the music industry.

You’ve worked across legacy music companies, startups, artist marketing, and brand strategy while also being an independent artist yourself. How did your journey into music marketing first begin?

I entered music brand marketing by way of writing. I’ve been journaling since I could hold a pencil, and started writing songs in middle school. It felt like a natural skill to build a career on once I graduated college, and I thought I would “make it” when I landed a full-time role as a writer, but once I got there, I realized there was plenty more I wanted to explore. That’s what led me to apply to the Senior Communications & Content Marketing role at CD Baby. As a CD Baby artist myself for over a decade, it was the perfect fit in terms of alignment and mission.

Photo credit: Stephanie Heath

You often speak about the difference between artist marketing and brand marketing — two areas that are frequently treated as the same thing. What are the biggest misunderstandings you see in the industry around this?

Whenever I meet someone new in the industry, I always clarify that I’m a brand marketer rather than an artist marketer, because people always assume it’s the latter. It’s understandable, because artist marketing is considered one of the “sexier” paths in music, and many folks looking to get into music want to work with their favorite musicians.

Lots of people aren’t even aware that the brand marketing path in music exists — and how cool it is. What I love most is the scalability aspect. Instead of working on individual artist campaigns, if you get to work with a company that has a great product and values, ideally the result is a better industry for many artists and music workers.

3 tips for emerging professionals who want to work in music marketing but don’t know where to start.

Tip #1: Learn as much as you can about the different types of music companies, nonprofits, and startups that exist. The more you understand about how the industry works at large, the more equipped you’ll be to discover what interests you and what area you might like to work in.

Tip #2: Once you’ve narrowed that down, check out virtual or in-person events that are held by those organizations  (if they exist) to take a deeper dive, and potentially meet members of the team — just remember to be respectful of them and their time if you get the chance to chat one-on-one.

Tip #3: Once you’re ready to apply for roles, make sure that your LinkedIn profile and portfolio showcases why you’re the right choice to elevate a music brand, whether that’s through spec work, freelance work, or personal projects.

Networking can feel overwhelming. What advice would you give to people trying to build meaningful professional relationships?

First, remember it’s totally normal to feel overwhelmed within a group of people, especially ones you don’t know. Everybody in the room, regardless of how long they’ve been in the industry, is more than likely feeling some nervousness or self-consciousness.

One thing that can help you ease into networking is to first seek out a group of people who have similar work or lived experiences to you. For instance, join a Women In Music event and speak to other women about what it’s like to navigate music.

Or, if you have a tech background, join a music tech event to meet other folks that are building in that space. It makes it a bit easier to break the ice when you’re first starting out.

You’ve spoken openly about the funding gap facing women and minority-led music businesses. What structural changes do you think the industry still urgently needs to make?

My answer to this is twofold: First, creating networks of marginalized professionals in music that enable us to support each other in every way — from hiring and financially investing in each other, to making meaningful intros across different parts of the industry, and more — will shore us up when difficulties like economic downturns and layoffs inevitably arise. Second, we need more allies to hold folks in our industry accountable to bridge that gap.

If you’re not a marginalized person, consider what you can do personally to support a minority-owned music company or colleague, and follow through. This could be anything from connecting marginalized business owners to potential sources of funding, to ensuring a music industry panel you’re putting together is diverse, to just sending a word of praise or encouragement to someone of a different identity than you who is killing it in the business.

As someone balancing leadership roles, public speaking, community work, and your own music project, how do you protect your creativity and avoid burnout?

It’s challenging for sure, and I don’t have it all figured out. Lately, I’ve been wanting to prioritize my creative work more, because I can’t get the visions and sounds of what I want to release and how I want to release it out of my head.

One thing I’ve learned this year is that my physical surroundings matter when it comes to making music; for instance, it’s hard for me to focus in a space that’s small or cluttered. Sometimes I go out to a cafe to switch things up, stretch my legs, and refocus on what’s important that day, whether that’s music or something else.

You’ve worked both inside established companies like CD Baby and within newer startup environments. What are the biggest differences between those worlds, especially when it comes to innovation and artist support?

There are usually big differences, both in the responsibilities you take on as a marketer, and in the ways you think about and drive success for the business. First, music companies have diverse target audiences — some may be selling to artists, some to other music companies, some to companies or creators outside the music space.

That means providing artist support may be key for one company, but not for another. And, if you’re working for a startup, you’re more than likely creating or scaling something that hasn’t been built yet. An environment like that typically requires more innovation than an established brand, and there are both challenges and exciting aspects that come with a business at that stage.

Your top independent artists and emerging music professionals trying to build sustainable careers.

There are so many, and I’m constantly inspired by them. I seek them out and amplify them where I can, often on LinkedIn and Instagram. Cathy Cao comes to mind as an emerging music professional on the artist marketing side, and she’s grown exponentially in the past two years since I first met her at an M for Montreal event in New York.

I’m always cheering her on from the sidelines as I see her drive results at major music companies and speak on industry panels. On the artist side, gentle mothh is making amazing music along with living out and sharing her values across creative disciplines, from streaming ethics to workers’ rights.

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Via Perkins on LinkedIn & Instagram

SOLAH on Forever: 'I Wanted to Define the Artist I Want to Be'

SOLAH is a Brighton-based singer, songwriter and vocalist whose soulful sound has made her a familiar name in the drum & bass scene.

Following her debut album King, she returns with Forever; a record that broadens her sound while staying true to the melodic, soul-infused style that has become her signature.

Forever brings together collaborators from across the UK, Europe, Japan and Brazil, reflecting the global community behind drum & bass.

Across 14 tracks, the album moves between uplifting moments of love, joy and connection before exploring darker, more reflective themes, embracing the emotional contrasts that run throughout the record.

Your new album Forever moves between uplifting, soulful moments and darker, more introspective tracks. What was the story behind it?  

My second album was much more about defining the artist I want to be through the D&B styles I connect with the most and stepping into a chapter where I can celebrate the music that got me to where I am and the people who play it and support it.

How do you balance being a private person while still sharing such personal music?

I am an open book really. The only thing that stops me sharing everything is the time I can dedicate to socials, the skill and ease of doing so and the knowledge that I can be my own worst critic. Catch me in a bar and I will tell you everything about myself, all my deepest and darkest fears and we’ll probably do a shot or two. ;)

What’s your favourite thing about making music? And what’s your least favourite part of the process?

My favourite thing is writing new tunes. There’s nothing better than receiving a piece of music you can’t wait to get your teeth stuck into, then spending a few hours with the vibes and ideas just flowing and dancing around the studio like you’ve just heard it for the first time. My least favourite thing is when the ideas do not flow, but you love the track so bad.

What’s your best networking tip for connecting with the right people in the music industry? 

Reach out to everyone and fan girl your *** off :)

What’s one thing people often misunderstand about drum & bass artists or vocalists?

Hmm, for VOCALISTS, that we don’t absolutely love the music. I understand that singers usually have their feet dipped in many genres, but I have had my feet in the D&B foot bath for a very long time for a reason, I LOVE IT!!

What are you listening to the most at the moment?

Hmmm, due to quite a bad memory, (thank you clubbing), I struggle to remember all the music I favourite and star, so I just end up listening to a handful of things over and over. These include Ezra Collective, Cleo Sol, a Zero T or a Break Mix!

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How to Build a Career in Music Curation: Advice from Sonos' Radio Jen Guyre

Jen Guyre is Head of Music Curation & Industry Relations at Sonos, where she leads music curation strategy for Sonos Radio and works closely with artists, labels and partners across the industry.

Growing up in New Jersey's DIY punk scene, Guyre was booking local shows while still at high school, an experience that led to work with concert promoters and eventually music journalism, writing features, reviews and interviews for The Aquarian. She later balanced college with concert work, college radio and an internship at MTV.com, laying the foundations for a career that has spanned music journalism, streaming, artist relations and curation.

Before joining Sonos, she held senior curation and editorial roles at Amazon Music, Google Play Music, Rhapsody and MTV, contributing to everything from playlist programming and editorial strategy to artist content and global music launches. At Google, she was part of the team that helped build Google Play Music from the ground up before overseeing curation across the Americas, while at Amazon Music she led multi-genre programming and launched playlists spotlighting emerging scenes, including the shoegaze revival and hardcore resurgence.

You started out booking DIY hall shows in New Jersey as a teenager before eventually leading music curation and industry relations at Sonos. How did those early DIY experiences shape the way you approach music and curation today?

More than I think I realized until I stopped to consider it! I learned so many principles from that pre-college experience, but I think the biggest ones are: first, that music is a social currency, and nothing is more powerful than word of mouth. So don’t gatekeep! When you’re a curator, that’s the trust you’re holding. You want to both lead people somewhere they’re looking for, and somewhere they didn’t even know they wanted to go.

When my friends and I were doing hall shows, we didn’t have a lot of online tools at that time, and we definitely didn’t have a marketing budget, but we had our scene and community and that trust. The second point - and one I know for sure that I’ve taken throughout my career is: Always be out there experiencing it and seeing it in context – that’s how to truly know how to translate it back. Curation isn’t always about taste, but it’s almost always about context. 

Jen Guyre/Rob Zombie Interview, 2013

You’ve worked across almost every major era of digital music — from MTV and Rhapsody to Google Play, Amazon Music, and now Sonos. What have been the biggest shifts you’ve witnessed in how audiences discover music?

I think the biggest shifts have been that audiences are not one-genre listeners and mood is important to them, that “discovery” means something new to them and not just new music from up-and-coming artists, and that at the end of the day, they do want guidance when they have all the world’s recorded music at their fingertips!

Resonator Awards 2026

A lot of people dream of working in music curation or streaming platforms. What practical advice would you give to someone trying to break into that side of the industry today?

Go back! (Just kidding, I’m quoting Say Anything). My advice is to start small and stay consistent about curating. It’s not just about “I like music and making playlists,” it’s also about being able to stick the landing among an audience: They’re the other side of the coin. There’s you and your taste, but the job is also about how you can resonate with them and theirs.

It’s a difficult space to break into because the biggest misnomer is that it’s not a skillset, it is, and just like anything, you have to hone that. Maybe you start hosting an hour at your college radio station, start a substack, make public playlists, utilize platforms like TikTok or YouTube, or just simply make playlists for friends and family and their parties and gatherings.

In all of the above, see if you can exercise a POV but still curate for them (or the occasion) not for you, and get some feedback. Then see if you can intern at a company that does curation where you can learn more. My own skills were honed making playlists as a hobby since I was a kid, but then I helped curate a music fest in NJ as a teenager, co-hosted a college radio show with friends, DJ’ed between bands at shows, and wrote for a music weekly called The Aquarian. I landed an internship in music journalism and that lead to a job in digital, and the rest is history. But I wasn’t doing all that legwork because I wanted the job, I was doing it because I loved it, and it just kind of came together.

You’ve consistently championed emerging scenes and subcultures, from punk and hardcore to shoegaze revivals. Why do you think it’s important for streaming platforms to support underground or developing scenes rather than only focusing on mainstream trends?

For many reasons! But mainly because the big picture of music is so important: what’s above boards and below boards is all part of music culture as a whole. Audiences are everywhere and music is a lifestyle for a lot of them; sometimes you don’t see them if you’re not serving them. Especially in our data-driven worlds. Plus that’s the world that gave me my start, so there’s for sure an element of paying it forward. 

What advice would you give to younger music professionals trying to build genuine industry connections?

Be authentic, be patient, and be humble. And remember that the industry itself is a community too! You will meet a lot of people and find the folks who share commonalities or are interested in the same or similar corners of the biz you’re interested in, and that will eventually start to open doors naturally. But you can’t force it, and it might not happen quickly, but if you’re looking for genuine connections, you have to be genuine too. 

What are you listening to at the moment?

Oh man, I go down a lot of random rabbit holes, and sometimes get stuck on songs I just want to play on repeat. In my personal listening, I think I operate a little in the shadows since so much of my professional life requires being more out in the open. So with that disclaimer!

Lately I’ve been obsessing over some heavy synth in all directions. Like, the album tracks - not the singles - on Bjork’s album Debut, and the big, emotional feel of “Learning to Fly” by Pink Floyd and “You Take My Breath Away” by The Knife.

I’ll listen to The Chameleons or Kitty Craft in my Sunday morning playlist, but today I was feeling more Arima Ederra and ultimately love that space where alt/ indie R&B crosses into jazz. For newer music, I listen to everything R. Missing puts out, love Violet Grohl’s new album, am excited for new Steve Lacy, new Kelela, and here for all the buzz/ momentum Die Spitz have going on right now.

How do you unwind or reset after a challenging day?

I like to do something active to decompress, even if it’s just going for a walk and getting some air, and on extra challenging days, I like making dinner at home and honestly, even if it’s a little grandma-y, having a cup of tea before bed! Your time isn’t yours during the work day anyway, but when it’s tougher than usual, it helps to sort of take that back and do something nice and calming for yourself. 

3 things you can’t live without in your bag 

Ear Plugs, Gum, Lip Gloss – and I’m laughing because that has never changed!

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Lucie Antunes on New Album Silence, Collaboration and Immersive Performance

Lucie Antunes © Marco Dos Santos

Lucie Antunes is a French composer, percussionist and producer originally trained in classical and contemporary music. Her work spans concerts, performances, club contexts and interdisciplinary projects, sitting at the intersection of experimental, pop and contemporary music, and shaped by close collaborations with musicians, choreographers and visual artists. Following her acclaimed albums Sergeï (2019) and Carnaval (2023), Antunes returns with Silence, a new LP that strips away excess in search of something more instinctive and essential.

Created in collaboration with choreographer Mathilde Monnier, Silence exists as both an album and a large-scale choreographed performance. Bringing together musicians, dancers and voices, the project explores altered states of consciousness through rhythm, repetition and movement, dissolving the boundaries between audience and performers.

Silence feels less like a conventional album and more like an environment or state of mind. At what point did you realise this project needed to exist simultaneously as music, choreography and spatial experience?

When Mathilde reached out to me, I was at a professional turning point, marking both the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. There are encounters that profoundly transform you; this one felt almost salvific. It was not only the encounter itself, but also the moment at which it arrived. I deeply believe that there are no saviors, only specific moments when we find greater courage—precise points along our life path when different elements align and create an impact, whatever form that impact may take.

This particularly dizzying moment in my life, combined with the appearance of Mathilde—someone with an immensely generous soul, a reassuring force—sparked in me a desire, even an urgency, to create a cathartic work. Mathilde had already envisioned the entire project and wanted me to be on stage. I turned it into an album, while she transformed it into a choreographed concert, brought to life by human beings of a kind one rarely encounters: people with remarkable mystical strength and very little ego.

As for me, in building this album, I invited artists—some of them close friends, others people whose artistic worlds I deeply admire—and it became a highly inspiring collective creation. The spatial dimension you mention is extremely important, as the album is a vast journey that highlights our condition as transient human beings seeking to communicate with the invisible world. This is expressed through spatialized sound and the real-time vocal processing that Canblaster executed with great mastery, as though he were the pilot navigating between here and elsewhere.

Every work I create is a path of transformation. Silence took me far—toward freedom, joy, creative strength, and above all, a deeper trust in my instincts, leading me toward a more experimental body of work.

Capture d’écran

The project began from a drone recorded in the stables at CENTQUATRE in Paris. What was it about that sound that sparked the direction of the entire album?

Yes, in a way, I lost control of the console, of the machine itself, and I simply let it happen. I listened to what resonated within that extraordinary space—the stables of Le Centquatre, formerly a vast funeral center. I sat down at the piano and was carried by this D drone as I wrote the first track, Silence.

For the first time, a rather dark theme emerged for me. These are some of the most beautiful moments of my life. It has happened to me for as long as I can remember, often when sitting at a piano. It's as though the music comes to me, and it feels completely self-evident. From there, I enter a kind of vortex—quite cerebral at first—then I drift into explorations of rhythmic equivalences.

At that moment, I visualized the dancers for whom I was composing this album, and a rhythm in 5 naturally imposed itself as the skeleton of the piece.

For the rest of the album, the collaborations played a major role in shaping the music. With Halo Maud and Louisahhh, for example, I really wanted to build a shared vision while ensuring that each of our artistic identities remained clearly recognizable. It also allows me to venture beyond my comfort zone and travel toward new creative territories.

There’s a strong sense of tension between organic textures and modular electronics throughout the album. Was preserving the physicality of sound important to you during the recording process?

Real-time sound processing was at the very heart of the writing process, at the heart of this entire story. In many ways, this album was truly a four-handed creation with Canblaster, because I brought him the organic raw materials and shared my desires extensively. He knew how to listen deeply, and I think that, for everyone involved in this project, it was also an immense pleasure because there was both great freedom and a sense of urgency that often made the very first take the right one.

We ran everything through his modular systems, like a machine capable of carrying you through time. Halo Maud began singing with her extraordinary voice, and he transformed it into something like a saxophone driven by an arpeggiator. Suddenly, tears were streaming down our faces. We knew instantly—it was the take.

We processed Louisahhh’s breaths in a single take, and it pierced straight through us. The moment we heard it, we said, “We’re keeping that.” And that’s how texture became an obsession.

I had the feeling that we could expand sonic spaces and alter our sometimes linear perception of what an album can be.

How did your collaboration with Mathilde Monnier shape the project?

Here too, we wanted to break away from convention. I no longer really believe in the traditional frontal performance, where people sit down, enjoy themselves, and then leave. Perhaps it’s just a phase, and it will pass. But right now, I’m drawn to artists who are trying to invent new forms. Even when they fail, I find it compelling that they are willing to try—to engage the audience differently, to involve them in ways that go beyond passive spectatorship and simply having a pleasant experience.

Mathilde and I spent a lot of time questioning the place of music within this project. In this case, the theme was altered states of consciousness—a subject that may be fashionable today, but one that Mathilde has been exploring for a long time, as have I. She wanted music to be at the very center of the experience, and I wanted there to be no boundaries whatsoever between the dance performers and the musicians. We needed to find dancers who could also embody the music itself; in fact, I met them before I had written a single note.

As with everything we captured on this album, the idea of the collective is deeply embedded in this creation. And when I speak of new forms that have the power to move us, I mean works that resonate with the world we live in. For me, there was a profound necessity to become one with others in the face of the apocalyptic challenges we will soon be confronting.

Trance is, in many ways, a pretext. I use it as a form of healing for myself—though I make no claim to heal anyone else. What I do know is the power of sound. Intuitively, each from our own perspective, Mathilde and I brought together people of extraordinary sensitivity. And when we are all together, something happens that radiates throughout the entire space we inhabit.

It is the strength of the collective: a space where ego is set aside. No soloists. Just us, here, together, now.

You’ve worked with musicians, choreographers and visual artists from very different worlds. What usually tells you someone is the right creative fit?

I don’t really ask myself that question. Let’s just say that when I meet someone, I make it clear quite quickly that I wouldn’t be able to create something I’m not in complete agreement with. As a result, things tend to sort themselves out naturally.

More often than not, I’m a fan of the people I work with, and every collaboration becomes an intense adventure. But on this album, that feeling was stronger than ever before. And I’m not only talking about the people who contributed musically.

There was also Paulin, the graphic designer who conceived the artwork and had to immerse himself in this journey. Or Giorgio, who directed the videos and approached the project with the same intensity and passion that drove me. And Sibegg, the mixing engineer, whose involvement went far beyond simply mixing the record. We exchanged ideas constantly in order to arrive at this final result.

What I love about collaboration is when people bring something deeply personal to the process. Otherwise, I might as well work with robots.

After an intense project or performance cycle, what helps you switch off and reconnect with everyday life outside music?

My family life with my wife and our four-year-old son. My friends, my neighbors, the life of the neighborhood where I live. I really try to stay connected to the present moment, to the place I inhabit, to reality itself. Otherwise, I can go through long periods of loneliness, with the feeling that I’m always somehow on the sidelines—as if I’m never quite where I’m supposed to be.

The only place where I truly feel I am exactly where I belong is when I’m creating, when I’m writing, or when I’m performing. So outside of those creative spaces, I often repeat to myself: “I am here, now, in this moment.”

What's something that’s been inspiring you lately?

Breath. Instruments such as the organ, which depend on air to function. The voice. And my Spanish roots, which call to me with great intensity.

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Lucie Antunes on Instagram | Bandcamp | Stream Silence

Saffron and Real World Studios Launch Saffron Sessions, a New Live Series Reimagining One of Britain's Most Iconic Recording Spaces

What happens when one of the UK's most celebrated recording studios opens its doors to a new generation of artists, producers and engineers?

That's the question behind Saffron Sessions, a new live performance series filmed at Real World Studios, where Bristol-based organisation Saffron brought together women, trans and non-binary artists to create without compromise. Best known as the recording home of artists including Peter Gabriel, Beyoncé, Radiohead, Björk, Massive Attack and Florence + The Machine, Real World provides the backdrop for a project that's as much about rethinking studio culture as it is about recording music.

The newly released behind-the-scenes documentary features interviews with artists—including FKA twigs—as well as producers, engineers and the creative team behind the sessions, exploring an industry where 95% of professional music producers and engineers are men, and asking what becomes possible when underrepresented creatives are given the space to shape music on their own terms.

For more than a decade, Saffron has been working to address the gender imbalance in music technology through training, mentoring and community. Saffron Sessions takes that mission into one of Britain's most iconic recording environments, demonstrating what becomes possible when the people shaping music are given the space, resources and trust to experiment on their own terms.

The series features eight artists pushing at the edges of electronic, pop and experimental music: Yushh, Grove, Holysseus Fly, Manami, Sarahsson, Babealicious, t l k and My Midnight Heart. Several performances feature unreleased material and new live arrangements created exclusively for the sessions, capturing each artist at a unique moment in their creative process.

The newly released behind-the-scenes film offers a closer look at how the project came together. Alongside the artists, Saffron partnered with dBs Institute to bring women and non-binary students into the studio as apprentice engineers, working alongside Real World's in-house team led by Grammy-winning engineer Katie May. The result is a portrait of collaboration rather than competition, where technical knowledge, creativity and confidence are shared openly.

The film also captures the spirit of experimentation that runs through the sessions. Instruments are reimagined, unconventional objects become part of the recording process, and ideas that might never have found a place in a traditional studio environment are encouraged rather than questioned.

With only a small percentage of professional music producers and engineers identifying as women, Saffron is questioning who gets to shape the future of recorded music and Saffron Sessions makes a compelling case for what the industry stands to gain when more voices are given access to its most influential spaces.

Playlist of Live Sessions:

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Check out Saffron Members Club, worldwide community for women, trans, non-binary and gender non-conforming people in music tech.

Member Perk: shesaid.so x AVA London 2026 Pro Pass

AVA London is offering shesaid.so Members & ALLIES exclusive access to a Pro Pass at the Super Early Bird price of £126.

Public ticket prices are set to increase after the Super Early Bird period, but shesaid.so Members & ALLIES can continue to access this fixed £126 rate through our exclusive booking link.

Your Pro Pass includes:

• Full access to the AVA London Conference (24–26 September 2026)

• Entry to AVA London club showcases*

• Exclusive access to networking events and mixers

• Connect with delegates in advance via the AVA conference app

• Complimentary AVA London tote bag

*Club showcase entry is first come, first served.

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AVA London has unveiled the first wave of speakers for its 2026 conference, returning from 24–26 September with a lineup spanning music, technology, art and culture.

The first announcement includes Moby, Richie Hawtin, Oklou, The Avalanches, teamLab, the No Tags podcast and Vanessa Maria, alongside more than 70 speakers and 30 sessions across the three-day event. 

Alongside headline talent, this year's programme places a strong emphasis on industry exchange with the return of the AVA Forum – bringing together artists, managers, labels, festivals, venues and platforms for invite-only discussions on the future of music and creativity.

Some key highlights include:

• Moby in conversation with EarthPercent on music and climate action

• Richie Hawtin discussing the intersection of music, art and technology

• Oklou joining a live Resident Advisor Exchange

• The Avalanches in a fireside chat around their forthcoming album

• teamLab presenting an exclusive session on immersive art and technology

• Expanded delegate and networking opportunities through the AVA Forum and industry partner programme

  There are also dedicated networking opportunities and specialist sessions from partners including Ableton, PRS for Music, AFEM and b:electronic, with confirmed delegates from organisations such as Bandcamp, Atlantic Records UK, YMU Group and the British Council.

Info & Tickets

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Dresden Leitner on Networking, Community and Building a Career in Cultural Communications

Dresden Leitner has spent more than 15 years working at the intersection of music, fashion, brands, art, sport and contemporary culture. As co-director of Love Is The Message, a creative communications agency specialising in culture-led projects, he has helped shape campaigns and initiatives for clients including Diageo, Stone Island, AVA Festival, Broadwick Live, Drumsheds, KOKO and Peroni.

Operating across communications, production and creative strategy, Dresden is known for championing communities, subcultures and authentic storytelling, connecting brands and audiences through projects rooted in genuine cultural engagement.

Based between London and Glasgow, Dresden continues to develop work that sits at the forefront of culture, creativity and impact.

You’ve worked across music, fashion, brands, art, sport, and culture for over 15 years. How did you first get started in music and cultural communications, and what initially drew you to this world?

I always knew I was going to do something in music, I was obsessed with music and subcultures - as a teenager, I did them all. Growing up in London I was lucky, one day I could be a grime kid watching MC battles in the park, and the next day in Camden headed to some random pub for a gig of a band I’d never heard of. Music inspired me, but the movements around them did too. 

I studied Events Management at uni in Manchester, and was running club nights there. Then I met the super-talented artist GAIKA who gave me my first paid job at his label (shout out!) After that, I was offered a job working down in London part time with clients like Outlook, Dimensions, Red Bull Music - the gamechangers at the time. I worked my way up the ranks there for 4 years - which was the most pivotal of my life!

You co-direct Love Is The Message, an agency focused on culture-led projects. What does “culture-led” actually mean to you in practice?

The term culture is over-used. Sometimes I use it to give the easiest explanation to what we do - but when I talk about what we do - I prefer to say comms for impact. For me, comms for impact - means working with people, movements, campaigns, brands who are treading their own path, innovators, visionaries, a bit fearless sometimes, maybe risky, those passionate heads! 

If you look at some of our most interesting campaigns - LOS PIKES for Stone Island (biker crews in Medellin, Colombia) Jail Time Records, AVA Festival (electronic music scene in Northern Ireland) and recently Glasgow Plays Ball (alternative football scenes in Scotland) - it’s always been about bringing through real scenes, stories, real people.

For me, creating impact in culture is bringing together the right collaborators and understanding a culture from the inside out - rather than trying to buy a piece of it.

It also means following our gut to an extent. Some of the extremely cool projects we work on make 0 money, but I know it will make a difference in how we are perceived and maybe it’s really fun! I love a passion project. I’m also very creative, so I love coming up with concepts - So sometimes we do those projects that are culturally extremely cool, but financially make no sense.

You’ve worked with clients and projects including Johnnie Walker, Stone Island, AVA Festival, Drumsheds, KOKO, and Peroni. What have you learned about building long-term relationships within the cultural industries?

Being a bit of an OG, I’m now lucky to consider a lot of my clients' and collaborators as friends - with long working relationships. I think as a small and independent agency / working directly with people - you have to be honest - and so trust is developed. There is no filter of 50 levels of agency heads to hide behind. People appreciate being able to have a direct line and real answers. 

Another important one - I always try to book and research new talent, upcoming friends of friends, as they grow they always remember who gave them their first jobs, advice, helped bring them through. So that’s why we have such an amazing network, because these people are now flying and a part of it. We have been there through people’s careers. I love that.

JW X NTS

Networking can feel intimidating, especially for people trying to break into music and culture spaces. What are your biggest networking tips for emerging creatives and industry professionals?

Hang out with people! Go to their events, gigs, a pint - whatever it is! Make an effort. Don’t be afraid to ask - but do it in the right way. I get people to reach out all the time, and I try to give them some sound advice, even if it’s a few words of email. 

Also - Stop thinking of networking as going to networking events - networking can be going to a gig, festival, product launch, going to the pub after work, going to a client event, joining an online workshop - it’s all networking. A lot of opportunities come from right place right time. 

For people who want to work in cultural communications, brand partnerships, or creative production, what skills do you think are most important today?

Be flexible - and open to learning and changing. Things change constantly in the creative industries. Learn from young people / next generation - be open minded. 

Add strings to your bow. For me and my team - most of us have worked behind the scenes in festivals, large scale events, fashion shoots etc, on a production or organisational front too, and that helps - being pragmatic and able to understand BTS from a production sense, that has been a key element to how we do things differently. And being able to communicate with different people within their roles.

What advice would you give to artists, DJs, creatives, or collectives trying to approach brands without compromising their identity or community values?

Make sure you’ve done your research. Sometimes when someone approaches me- I feel they’ve done no research into what my client is about, and that is an immediate red flag. Research previous projects, reference. 

What advice would you give to someone who feels like they don’t have access to the “right” networks or industry circles?

Look for an organization who can help you do that. For young people, there are some amazing organizations who help bring people together - Roundhouse, Urban Development, Brighter Sound, people like these all over the UK - who all run courses / provide opportunities for young creatives. If you’re not so young, look for like-minded people online and reaching out to these groups. 

How do you unwind or reset after a difficult or stressful day?

Boxing - keeps me level headed and concentrated. And going to the pub.

Outside of work, what inspires you creatively at the moment?

I take inspiration from everywhere, my surroundings and people - I’m spoilt for choice. At the moment I’m inspired by the city I’m living in - Glasgow - so that led me to work on GLASGOW PLAYS BALL - a new project tied into the World Cup celebrating Modern Scottish identity. This was one of the passion projects I spoke about - but coming up with an idea then recruiting a team of people to bring it to life is SO satisfying.

What are you listening to at the moment?

Probably George Michael. Or reggaeton.

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Dresden Leitner on Instagram | Love is The Message

Brazilian Artist Kaique on A Corte, Transfuturism and Creative Independence

Kaique is a Brazilian singer, songwriter, actor and model pushing the boundaries of Brazil's contemporary R&B, trap and Nova MPB scenes. Working under the artistic identity A Corte (The Court), he has built a distinctive creative universe rooted in what he describes as "Tropical Noir" and "Trash-Luxury" aesthetics, where raw urban realities meet cinematic elegance.

As a transmasculine artist, Kaique brings a bold and uncompromising perspective to Brazilian music, blending transfuturist ideas, visual storytelling, fashion and sound into a multidisciplinary practice that challenges conventions while imagining new possibilities. Following the release of his conceptual debut album Me Chame Pelo Meu Nome, he continues to expand the world of A Corte through new music, including recent single Marola, while developing his forthcoming project TRANS/A.

Your work blends music, visuals and fashion into a very distinct world. How would you describe the universe of A Corte in your own words?

I often say I’m just another person trying to build a universe where existence is actually possible. I lean heavily into **transfuturism** as a foundational lens to reimagine and reinvent the future through music and visuals. This extends behind the scenes too, at least 80% of my team is queer, which brings essential layers, references, and lived experience to the work.

Everything communicates, even silence. ACORT3 is a vessel for those screams to echo, but also for silence to remain when needed. It’s the signature of an artist who is tired, yet anxious to truly live in a better world.

Visual storytelling feels like a huge part of your work, from VHS textures to grunge-inspired aesthetics. What inspires your visual direction?

I’m a 90s kid, so I drink deeply from the MTV era and that specific, gritty atmosphere it had. I’m drawn to saturated colors, VHS textures, and grunge aesthetics because they feel honest. For me, visual storytelling isn't about polish; it's about capturing a raw, nostalgic distortion that mirrors the transfuturist themes in my music. It’s a way to visually translate the tension between the past we inherited and the future we’re trying to write.

Since it’s Pride Month, what does Pride mean to you right now as both an artist and a trans person creating in Brazil?

Right now, as a trans artist creating in Brazil, Pride means **resilience in its rawest form**. We are facing unprecedented censorship online, and offline the reality is just as stark.

I’ll be performing at the São Paulo Pride Parade this year, which ironically received almost zero public funding despite being one of the largest in the world. We are truly living in a guerrilla era here lol creating, occupying, and resisting with whatever we have.

Have there been moments where you felt you had to create your own space rather than wait for the industry to make room for you?

So yes, I stopped waiting for the industry or institutions to make room a long time ago. Building a team that is 80% queer wasn't just a hiring choice; it was a survival strategy.

We built our own ecosystem because the existing structures weren't designed for us, and in this guerrilla context, community isn’t just about belonging—it’s about mutual protection and keeping the culture alive against the odds.

You were selected for the Ballantine’s True Music Fund powered by shesaid.so in 2025. What attracted you to the programme, and what has the experience been?

Honestly, this fund was the key that unlocked a dream I’d been guarding for years. My debut album had been sitting in the drawer… not because of a lack of vision, but because of a lack of possibility. The True Music Fund didn’t just offer support; it offered **viability**.

What attracted me was that they saw the value in an artist whose work exists at the intersection of music, trans identity, and visual world-building, without asking me to dilute any of it. The experience has been transformative: it turned a 'someday' project into a tangible reality, allowing me to finally release my first album with the integrity and production quality it always deserved.

What are you focused on creatively at the moment? What can you tell us about this current phase of your work?

I’m currently producing my next album, trans/a, which features tracks in English, Spanish, and Portuguese. This trilingual approach is a deliberate expansion toward the international market, with a specific focus on Latin America.

Creatively, this phase is about dissolving linguistic borders while deepening the transfuturist narrative. I’m exploring how different languages carry distinct emotional textures and cultural codes, allowing the universe of ACORT3 to resonate across territories without losing its core identity.

It’s not just translation; it’s about building a sonic ecosystem where the message adapts but the essence remains intact.

Networking can feel intimidating for many emerging artists. What’s one thing that has genuinely helped you build connections and community?

Radical authenticity over strategic networking. I stopped trying to ‘network’ in the corporate sense and started building kinship. When you’re unapologetically yourself and transparent about your vision, you attract collaborators who resonate with the frequency, not just the opportunity.

My core team grew organically because we share the same urgencies. Genuine community in this space comes from mutual protection and shared references, not business cards.

What are you listening to the most right now — any artists, albums or sounds constantly on repeat?

Hell yea: Villano Antillano, Kali Uchis, Liniker, Julia Costa, Kaytranada, Sade, some jazz music and some punk folks screaming at my head sometimes. 

Outside of music, what’s currently inspiring you creatively — films, fashion, books, internet culture, everyday life?

I’m deeply inspired by curiosity itself. Lately, I’ve been getting lost in classic literature like Baudelaire, and I’m passionate about philosophy, especially when it intersects with our current political reality.

Fashion is another huge pillar for me, particularly sustainable fashion and that unbeatable mix of tailoring with streetwear: layers upon layers of fabric, structured silhouettes meeting raw, urban textures.

These elements aren’t separate from my music; they’re part of the same transfuturist language. The way Baudelaire wrote about modernity and decay, the way philosophy dissects power, the way layered fabrics protect and reveal, it all feeds the universe of ACORT3.

Creativity, for me, doesn’t live in one medium; it’s a continuous dialogue between text, cloth, politics, and sound.

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Kaique on Instagram | Website

Linnea Sundberg on Artist Ownership, AI Tools and Building Sustainable Artist Careers

Linnea Sundberg did not come into music through the most obvious door. With a background in finance and a lifelong passion for music, she was drawn to the industry by a problem she kept seeing up close: incredibly talented artists struggling to build sustainable careers from their work.

Over the last 15 years, Sundberg has worked across nearly every part of the modern music ecosystem — creation, streaming, artist tools, distribution, promotion, monetization, rights, data, fan engagement and music-tech investment. Across roles at Spotify, Splice and UnitedMasters, her work has focused on how technology can become a practical equalizer for artists, helping creators access the tools, infrastructure and opportunities they need without giving up ownership or creative control.

At Spotify, Sundberg helped develop artist-facing products and commercial strategies during a transformative period for streaming, including go-to-market plans for Spotify for Artists. At Splice, she worked closer to the creative process itself through Corporate Development. Today, as Head of Label Services at UnitedMasters, she works with independent artists navigating a fast-changing landscape shaped by distribution, data, AI-powered tools, brand partnerships, direct-to-fan relationships and new models for monetization.

What makes Sundberg’s perspective especially valuable is that she does not see music through one narrow industry lane. She understands the creative process, the business mechanics, the technology layer and the emotional relationship between artists and fans. For her, the future of music is not just about more tools or more platforms. It is about building systems that remove friction, protect artists’ rights, deepen fan connection and help creators build careers that can last.

How did you first get your start in music, and what pulled you toward the intersection of music and technology?

Even though my background is actually in finance, I’ve always been deeply passionate about music. Early on, I realized there was a huge disconnect: incredibly talented artists were struggling just to make ends meet. I gravitated toward technology because I saw it as the ultimate equalizer—a way to build practical, scalable tools that put power and money back into creators' hands so they can actually make a living doing what they love.

Having spent the last 15 years across companies like Spotify and now UnitedMasters, what are the most significant shifts you’ve seen in how artists build careers today?

It’s been amazing to watch the power dynamic completely flip. When I was at Spotify, we were focused on changing how the world accessed music through streaming. But today, especially at places like UnitedMasters, the most exciting shift is absolute independence. Artists no longer have to wait to be "picked" by a major label. They can build a global community, own their art, and run their entire business right from their phones. It’s incredibly empowering.

At UnitedMasters, you’re working closely with independent artists. What does “label services” actually mean in 2026, and how is that model evolving?

Honestly, "label services" used to mean giving up a massive chunk of your rights just to get your foot in the door. In 2026, it means something entirely different—it’s about being a true partner to the artist. It’s giving them the exact same high-end tools the majors have—like AI-powered mastering, data insights, and brand partnerships—but letting them keep 100% of their royalties and creative control. We’re here to be their infrastructure, not their boss.

There’s a lot of conversation around ownership, rights and long-term value. What should artists understand about IP and copyright that they often overlook early on?

I totally get why artists sign early deals—when you're grinding, an upfront check or a promise of exposure feels like a lifeline. But the most important thing I try to share is that your music is your long-term wealth.

Giving away your masters or publishing too early is like selling the house you just built. Retaining your rights means you get to benefit from every sync placement, every viral moment, and every stream for the rest of your life.

You’ve worked across product, strategy and corporate development. How important is it today for music professionals to understand the tech side of the industry, not just the creative?

It’s super important, but it doesn't mean you need to be a coder! The reality is that music and tech are completely intertwined now. Understanding the tech side—whether it’s how algorithms find listeners or how new production tools can save you money—just means you understand the board you're playing on. When music professionals bridge that gap between creative magic and smart technology, they can advocate so much better for the artists they represent.

The creator economy is often framed as empowering, but also increasingly complex. Where do you see the biggest opportunities for artists right now and where should they be more cautious?

The best opportunity right now is the ability to build a direct, meaningful relationship with your core fans—they are the ones who will sustain your career over the long haul. There are also amazing new AI tools that make professional-level production much more accessible. But my biggest caution is to protect your mental energy. It’s so easy to get caught up in the "noise," chasing every fleeting viral trend. Focus on what actually serves your art and your true community.

From your perspective, what separates artists who build sustainable, long-term careers from those who struggle to maintain momentum?

The artists who really go the distance are the ones who find a balance between their creative soul and a grounded, business-savvy mindset. It’s heartbreaking to see artists burn out because they're solely chasing a viral streaming moment.

The ones who build lasting careers focus on the marathon: they pay attention to their audience, protect their rights, surround themselves with a great team, and consistently put out high-quality work.

You’ve led go-to-market strategies for artist tools. What makes a platform or product genuinely valuable for artists rather than just adding more noise?

Artists are already doing a million things at once, so a tool is only valuable if it genuinely removes a headache for them. If it requires a massive learning curve, it’s just adding to their plate.

When we build products—like integrating AI mastering into the UnitedMasters app—the goal is always to ask, "How can we make this process invisible, easy, and instantly rewarding for the creator?" It has to serve the artist, not the other way around.

When it comes to streaming, distribution and audience growth, what are the most common strategic mistakes you see artists making today?

A really common pitfall is treating release day as the finish line, rather than the starting line. Once the song is out, that's when the real work begins! I often see artists miss out because they aren't using the data right at their fingertips to find where their fans are, or they forget to pitch for sync and brand deals. Also, never underestimate the power of great sound quality—there are so many easy tools out there now to make sure your tracks sound sonically competitive before you hit publish.

For anyone looking to build a career in music-tech, what skills, mindsets or experiences are becoming essential?

The absolute number one requirement is deep, genuine empathy for artists and the creative process. Without that, you're just building empty tech. Beyond that, it’s about being a translator—someone who can take a real-world problem an artist is facing and use business strategy and product design to fix it. My finance background taught me how to look at the numbers, but it’s the passion for music that drives why we build these tools. Stay curious, stay adaptable, and always keep the artist at the center of your work.

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Linnea Sundberg on LinkedIn | Website