At 28 years old, Belgium-born DJ/producer Charlotte de Witte has firmly established her place as techno royalty. Soon after discovering her love of underground dance music at 16 years old, she began DJing local clubs. Just two years later, in 2011, she won a DJ competition to open the main stage at the massive Belgian dance festival, Tomorrowland. She's been on a roll ever since.

After taking over her home country, she swiftly made waves across Europe in 2016, including in dance club hotspots Berlin and Barcelona. That same year, she played her first stateside shows—in Brooklyn, of course. By 2017, she was one of the most buzzed-about new underground DJs in the U.S. scene and played both EDC Las Vegas and Detroit's iconic Movement Electronic Music Festival in 2018.

In addition to her in-demand tour schedule, she's released hard-hitting techno banger after banger, launched a label, showcased her effortless style in a collab with TOMBOY, and cultivated her ever-growing fanbase on media content (she currently has 1.7 million followers on Instagram).

And while 2020 meant much more time at home in Belgium than she's had in years, it was still a triumphant one for the powerhouse producer. In November, she was named DJ Mag's No. 1 Alternative DJ, and the following month she celebrated the one-year anniversary of her label/event brand, KNTXT.

GRAMMY.com recently caught up with de Witte to learn more about her journey to the top, what the 2020 slow down felt like for her, her experience with sexism in dance music, and more.

You were named DJ Mag's 2020 No. 1 Alternative DJ, what does that recognition feel like for you?

It's a pretty big milestone to hit, especially in the year that's as weird as 2020. It felt like a massive hug from the scene and from the people out there. [It felt like they said], "Hey, thanks for being connected and thanks for sharing the music." Carl Cox was always No. 1 since the beginning of this alternative list [in 2018]. So, to knock someone like Carl Cox off the throne is really massive. And I mean, there are so many incredibly talented people on there, so it's still pretty surreal actually when I think of it. It's incredible.

You're the first woman to get to the top of the list and while it does feel like things are shifting a bit, I'm curious what you think needs to happen within the dance industry to keep lifting up more women, and people of color, to the top?

Well, I'm a firm believer that the dancefloor and the dance scene should be a place of total freedom, a place where you can express yourself no matter your gender, your color, your beliefs, your sexuality—it doesn't matter, it should be a place of freedom. I think there's still a lot of work when it comes to equality and fighting for those rights. I think you can always do more things, and it's very important to keep an open mind and to keep an open conversation about these things.

I can speak a lot about gender inequality because obviously, I've been having these questions since I started DJing. I don't think there should be necessarily a 50-50 equal division on the lineup, but there should be equal opportunities and equal chances, and you should treat people the same. So I think there's still work to do, but it's getting better. You see more and more female DJs popping up as well and getting a lot of opportunities same as male DJs, but there's still a lot of work. It's important to keep an open mind and keep the conversation going, always.

"I'm a firm believer that the dancefloor and the dance scene should be a place of total freedom, a place where you can express yourself no matter your gender, your color, your beliefs, your sexuality… So I think there's still a lot of work when it comes to equality and fighting for those rights."

One thing I think about a lot is the term "female DJ." Do you have instances where people say, "You're my favorite female artist?" How do you deal with that? I'm sure that that can be pretty frustrating.

It is, it's incredibly frustrating. And it happens all the time. A very annoying thing that happens as well is, when people online tend to compare DJs, 99 percent of the cases, it is between two female DJs. And indeed, they refer to you as a female DJ or "DJane," that's also a word.

I've been DJing for 11 years now and it's bad to say that I sort of got used to it. Not that it doesn't give me the chills, I mean, if someone in my close surroundings would say something like that, I would probably say something about it, but I realized that this mindset is a very slow one to change in people. Also, people don't fully realize what they're doing with saying those things—that doesn't make it right—but there are much worse things you can say than referring to someone as a female DJ. I mean, there are a lot of other battles to fight.

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I remember you getting a lot of buzz in 2017, and, from the outside, it's seemed like you've had a steady, rapid rise since then. What has the journey to where you are today felt like for you?

It's always sort of fascinating to look back at it myself because indeed everything has been a massive rollercoaster from where I was 11 years ago. How I started, I never would have dreamed of being where I am now. I mean, no one can fully grasp what has happened. In the beginning, it was really the tiny clubs in a tiny area where I used to live and then just massively going with the flow and doing what [felt] right. And I think having a lot of luck and being surrounded with the right people and doing things at the right time together with the right kind of motivation and ambition that you need.

I think those aspects really made the difference and got [me to the next level] in Belgium, first of all. And then things just started heading off on a worldwide basis. And indeed, for the past three years, minus this year, I've been touring non-stop and I've been probably one of the DJs touring the most in the world. And it's incredible. So it's been a rollercoaster, but touring really made me happy as well. It gave me so much energy. It was extremely exhausting, but it shaped me so much as a human being.

What has it felt like to finally have some time at home and off the road to reflect on all of it?

Well, 2020 has been a bit strange. I was lucky to be with people that I really love, very close to me. I think without them, I would have fallen into a black hole. There is no doubt about that. Even now, mentally, it's not easy, but that really kept me going. Also, having the time to have a normal pattern in my life, a normal sleep cycle, healthy food, because you don't have to eat shitty airport food again, [has been good]. So I'm trying to be productive. And [I'm] resting a lot. I did realize that my body and my mind could both use the rest at the beginning of the lockdown, so we rested.

I think it's been a very interesting year to work towards the future, but it's confusing because no one really knows what it is—I don't want to [get] too philosophical or too depressing. But I think it's been a year to be productive and to really clear minds, and take the experiences from the past and try and shape the future.

You released a couple of EPs in 2020—including Return To Nowhere and Rave On Time—and some remixes and singles. Did you work on those before or after lockdown?

I made them at the end of 2019, so everything was already scheduled. When everything happened, we were thinking of holding back the [label] release of Return To Nowhere and Rave On Time until a time where we could go to clubs and festivals again because they're made to be played at those places. But we just decided to go for it. It provides some music in these times.

I made the Bob Moses [and ZHU] remix in March and that one just got released [in December]. So that's the only thing that had a short time span [from when I made it], but all the others were made before. Now we've made some new music that's coming out in 2021, so hopefully we'll be out of lockdown.

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I talked to a couple of DJs at the beginning of lockdown. If you're used to making music for the dancefloor, it's like, "Well, what do I make now?" Some artists talked about not feeling motivated to make dance music when they didn't know when that space would return. I feel like any time good dance music comes out it is a good thing, we need that release of moving our bodies, wherever we are.

I get it. But it is strange to make dance music [in lockdown]. In the beginning, it was still OK because the memory of the dance festivals were still fresh. But after 10, 11 months, when I'm sitting in the studio, it's really tough to make something with a strong kick. I'm experimenting a bit towards more ambient stuff, which is nice as well, to have [during] this time of experimenting. I completely understand what they said, it feels so strange even listening to new music or trying to find new techno tracks. It started to be very strange. I think it makes sense. You're just so distant from it, but you have to keep it alive. [Laughs.]

To that point, what are you most looking forward to when you get to return to the dancefloor?

I think the entire experience. Stepping on to your flights—preferably without a mask by then—arriving at your country of destination, going to restaurants there, the conversations you have with the people there, the promoters, the club's hard-hitting bass—the volume, the loudness that we all haven't heard in such a long time—and the energy, the sweating, everything. I'm sure it will be very magical once it comes back because we will not take it for granted anymore. It will be a new era, we just have to be patient.

It's going to feel weird.

It is. And I think there's going to be so much energy on the floor and the explosion is going to be massive. Like every single show will be—it already was unique, but it will be incredibly unique and very intense. Hopefully, by then we can look back at it as a healthy reset because people don't take it for granted anymore. I think that is a good aspect. And people are also starting to realize the importance of having clubs and festivals around and nightlife culture—because nightlife culture has always been the ugly sister that no one wants to talk about. Everyone just regards it as drug-filled and dirty. And it is, but [it's not just that]—nightlife is really important. I think we still have a very long way to go [in order] to convey this message to people and for people in charge to realize that we matter a lot.

Recently in Germany, they declared that techno was music.

That was cool.

Now, German nightclubs can get the same funding and tax breaks that other venues do. We've seen the nightlife community come together to ask for relief funding for clubs because otherwise many are not going to survive. You're right, it matters and not just to "ravers," it's important to so many people, including those who work in it and keep those industries alive.

Exactly. There's so much more to it than what an unknowing person thinks. I think it's important that people are made aware of that. We still have a long way to go. I mean, why at the main stage [of a festival, do] you never really have DJs? You can have electronic music acts, but when you talk about a DJ, they are never fully considered a musician. That's a never-ending discussion. So, I think the fact that Germany did state that techno is music is a good start.

You just celebrated the one-year anniversary of your label, KNTXT. What was your goal when you were launching the label and what is your vision with it going forward?

Basically, to find a creative platform for my music, but also music from other artists—that was the main thing, to release good music. And to organize parties, that was also a very important part of it. We did a couple in New York, Milan, Barcelona, and London. They were going very well and we are going to start again as soon as we can.

Besides that, we just want to be a creative place and connect music with other things. For instance, I'm a big foodie, so we are trying to see how we can connect music with food or chefs because a lot of chefs are also big techno fans. It's a very interesting platform to discover things from. And now we had the collaboration with the headphone brands AIAIAI . That was a very cool one. We had a fashion collaboration too. It's just a bit of putting out your arms towards the other creative industries. It's nice, it's very cool.

To celebrate the anniversary, you released a vinyl box set that includes the new track "Lighthouse." Can you tell us a bit more about the sonic elements and mood of the song, and what else you have in store for the White Label?

Well, "Lighthouse" is the first White Label release. White Label-wise, we still have to explore what direction we want to go with it. I think our main focus is to release EPs like we've been doing, but I think "Lighthouse" was a very nice addition to this collector's box set. I also made that track a while ago.

It's very dancefloor-oriented, it has an acid line in there. Fun fact: in "Lighthouse" you hear a voice saying some things; it's my voice saying the definition of context, and I reversed it. I like reversing things because it makes things sound less common or cheesy. The definition of context is in there. So, you're getting context on context, basically.

Reversing parts of audio is somewhat common in hip-hop—Kendrick Lamar used it a lot on DAMN. Producers will play a drum loop or something backward and it feels like you're like falling backward or dreaming.

Yeah. Some things just sound more interesting in reverse. And I have the feeling that, especially with vocals, it makes things a bit more alienating. If I would just have said the definition of context, it would be a bit lame.

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What do you think are the essential elements of a great techno banger?

It's always a tough one when they ask you to define music because I can give you a Wikipedia-type definition, but in the end it's also very much of an emotional experience and what is best for me, is slow for someone else. But I think techno is a very functional 4/4 beat. It's not necessarily happy, it's quite undeground and it can be quite repetitive and loopy and can be quite stripped. So it's not chaotic or not happy sounding. That's how I would describe it to an audience. It's not like EDM where you can put your hands up in the air. I mean, you can put your hands up in the air, but not because they tell you to.

"I am drawn to sort of the 'less is more' aspect of [techno]. You don't need a lot of very audible elements to give you a lot in return. It speaks to me in its emptiness, in a way."

What specific elements are you typically drawn to in a techno track?

I am drawn to sort of the "less is more" aspect of it. You don't need a lot of very audible elements to give you a lot in return. It speaks to me in its emptiness, in a way. It just gives space to a lot of the elements that you use. And that underground side, which is just more interesting to me because it makes me think about those things and wonder.

When did you first start listening to techno? And at what point did you know that you wanted to start producing music yourself?

I started going to these underground clubs where I went to school at the age of 16, 17. I think that's where I first got in touch with electronic music, but also the more underground side of it. Electro was quite big in Belgium back in the days, but it also started getting me in touch with techno music. So, my initial step into electronic music was electro, which you don't hear that often nowadays.

Gradually, by digging deeper into this world of electronic music, I found techno and I'm still there. I think I started producing a couple of years later. I also started DJing almost straight away because I fell in love with the music and I wanted to do something with it. Initially, it was just for me, like I was mixing tracks at home, to listen to on my iPod when I was going to school and never thought of putting them online.

But at some point, I did [put mixes online] and then things just started rolling. Music-making started a couple of years later because I felt a need to not only play other people's music but also to explore this world of beat making myself. Because it's a whole world and it's extremely fascinating to delve deeper.

You dove in, that's awesome.

Yeah, sort of. And I could—my parents were always supportive, they just let me do me. I mean, I wasn't harming anyone with it. They just saw that it made me happy, so they just let me be. It was cool—I was lucky as well. A crazy path.

What are your release plans for 2021?

I've been working on some stuff to release on my label, KNTXT, in 2021. Also, we have a remix that's coming out. I think a lot of people will release a lot of music in 2021 because everyone had so much time. I have stuff coming and I'm very happy with the results.

I really look forward to playing it on the dancefloor and seeing the reaction of the crowd. I've been playing some of the tracks on [live]streams [I've done] but having six cameras pointed at your face—even though millions of people are watching—can not compare with the crowd. So I really look forward to that moment.

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Moby’s past and present are converging in a serendipitous way. The multiple-GRAMMY nominee is celebrating the 25th anniversary of his seminal work, Play, the best-selling electronic dance music album of all time, and the release of his latest album, always centered at night. 

Where Play was a solitary creation experience for Moby, always centered at night is wholly collaborative. Recognizable names on the album are Lady Blackbird on the blues-drenched "dark days" and serpentwithfeet on the emotive "on air." But always centered at night’s features are mainly lesser-known artists, such as the late Benjamin Zephaniah on the liquid jungle sounds of "where is your pride?" and Choklate on the slow grooves of "sweet moon." 

Moby’s music proves to have staying power: His early ‘90s dance hits "Go" and "Next is the E" still rip up dancefloors; the songs on Play are met with instant emotional reactions from millennials who heard them growing up. Moby is even experiencing a resurgence of sorts with Gen Z. In 2023, Australian drum ‘n’ bass DJ/producer Luude and UK vocalist Issey Cross reimagined Moby’s classic "Porcelain" into "Oh My." Earlier this year, Moby released "You and Me" with Italian DJ/producer Anfisa Letyago. 

Music is just one of Moby’s many creative ventures. He wrote and directed Punk Rock Vegan Movie as well as writing and starring in his homemade documentary, Moby Doc. The two films are produced by his production company, Little Walnut, which also makes music videos, shorts and the podcast "Moby Pod." Moby and co-host Lindsay Hicks have an eclectic array of guests, from actor Joe Manganiello to Ed Begley, Jr., Steve-O and Hunter Biden. The podcast interviews have led to "some of the most meaningful interpersonal experiences," Moby tells GRAMMY.com. 

A upcoming episode of "Moby Pod" dedicated to Play was taped live over two evenings at Los Angeles’ Masonic Lodge at Hollywood Forever Cemetery. The episode focuses on Moby recounting his singular experiences around the unexpected success of that album — particularly considering the abject failure of his previous album, Animal Rights. The narrative was broken up by acoustic performances of songs from Play, as well as material from Always Centered at Night (which arrives June 14) with special guest Lady Blackbird. Prior to the taping, Moby spoke to GRAMMY.com about both albums. 

'Always centered at night' started as a label imprint then became the title of your latest album. How did that happen? 

I realized pretty quickly that I just wanted to make music and not necessarily worry about being a label boss. Why make more busy work for myself?

The first few songs were this pandemic process of going to SoundCloud, Spotify, YouTube and asking people for recommendations to find voices that I wasn’t familiar with, and then figuring out how to get in touch with them. The vast majority of the time, they would take the music I sent them and write something phenomenal.

That's the most interesting part of working with singers you've never met: You don't know what you're going to get. My only guidance was: Let yourself be creative, let yourself be idiosyncratic, let the lyrics be poetic. We're not writing for a pop audience, we don't need to dumb it down. Although, apparently Lady Blackbird is one of Taylor Swift's favorite singers.  

Guiding the collaborators away from pop music is an unusual directive, although perhaps not for you? 

What is both sad and interesting is pop has come to dominate the musical landscape to such an extent that it seems a lot of musicians don't know they're allowed to do anything else. Some younger people have grown up with nothing but pop music. Danaé Wellington, who sings "Wild Flame," her first pass of lyrics were pop. I went back to her and said, "Please be yourself, be poetic." And she said, "Well, that’s interesting because I’m the poet laureate of Manchester." So getting her to disregard pop lyrics and write something much more personal and idiosyncratic was actually easy and really special. 

You certainly weren’t going in the pop direction when making 'Play,' but it ended up being an extremely popular album. Did you have a feeling it was going to blow up the way it did?

I have a funny story. I had a date in January 1999 in New York. We went out drinking and I had just gotten back the mastered version of Play. We're back at my apartment, and before our date became "grown up," we listened to the record from start to finish. She actually liked it. And I thought, Huh, that's interesting. I didn't think anyone was going to like this record. 

You didn’t feel anything different during the making of 'Play?'

I knew to the core of my being that Play was going to be a complete, abject failure. There was no doubt in my mind whatsoever. It was going to be my last record and it was going to fail. That was the time of people going into studios and spending half a million dollars. It was Backstreet Boys and Limp Bizkit and NSYNC; big major label records that were flawlessly produced. Play was made literally in my bedroom. 

I slept under the stairs like Harry Potter in my loft on Mott Street. I had one bedroom and that's where I made the record on the cheapest of cheap equipment held up literally on milk crates. Two of the songs were recorded to cassette, that's how cheap the record was. It was this weird record made by a has-been, a footnote from the early rave days. There was no world where I thought it was going to be even slightly successful. Daniel Miller from Mute said — and I remember this very clearly — "I think this record might sell over 50,000 copies." And I said, "That’s kind of you to say but let's admit that this is going to be a failure. Thank you for releasing my last record."  

Was your approach in making 'Play' different from other albums? 

The record I had made before Play, Animal Rights, was this weird, noisy metal punk industrial record that almost everybody hated. I remember this moment so vividly: I was playing Glastonbury in 1998 and it was one of those miserable Glastonbury years. When it's good, it's paradise; it's really special. But the first time I played, it was disgusting, truly. A foot and a half of mud everywhere, incessant rain and cold. I was telling my manager that I wanted to make another punk rock metal record. And he said the most gentle thing, "I know you enjoy making punk rock and metal. People really enjoy when you make electronic music." 

The way he said it, he wasn't saying, "You would help your career by making electronic music." He simply said, "People enjoy it." If I had been my manager, I would have said, "You're a f—ing idiot. Everyone hated that record. What sort of mental illness and masochism is compelling you to do it again?" Like Freud said, the definition of mental illness is doing the same thing and expecting different results. But his response was very emotional and gentle and sweet, and that got through to me. I had this moment where I realized, I can make music that potentially people will enjoy that will make them happy. Why not pursue that? 

That was what made me not spend my time in ‘98 making an album inspired by Sepultura and Pantera and instead make something more melodic and electronic. 

After years of swearing off touring, what’s making you hit stages this summer? 

I love playing live music. If you asked me to come over and play Neil Young songs in your backyard, I would say yes happily, in a second. But going on tour, the hotels and airports and everything, I really dislike it.  

My manager tricked me. He found strategically the only way to get me to go on tour was to give the money to animal rights charities. My philanthropic Achilles heel. The only thing that would get me to go on tour. It's a brief tour of Europe, pretty big venues, which is interesting for an old guy, but when the tour ends, I will have less money than when the tour begins. 

Your DJ sets are great fun. Would you consider doing DJ dates locally? 

Every now and then I’ll do something. But there’s two problems. As I've become very old and very sober, I go to sleep at 9 p.m. This young guy I was helping who was newly sober, he's a DJ. He was doing a DJ set in L.A. and he said, "You should come down. There's this cool underground scene." I said, "Great! What time are you playing?" And he said "I’m going on at 1 a.m." By that point I've been asleep for almost five hours.

I got invited to a dinner party recently that started at 8 p.m. and I was like, "What are you on? Cocaine in Ibiza? You're having dinner at 8 p.m.  What craziness is that? That’s when you're putting on your soft clothes and watching a '30 Rock' rerun before bed. That's not going out time." And the other thing is, unfortunately, like a lot of middle aged or elderly musicians, I have a little bit of tinnitus so I have to be very cautious around loud music.

Are you going to write a third memoir at any point? 

Only when I figure out something to write. It's definitely not going to be anecdotes about sobriety because my anecdotes are: woke up at 5 a.m., had a smoothie, read The New York Times, lamented the fact that people are voting for Trump, went for a hike, worked on music, played with Bagel the dog, worked on music some more went to sleep, good night. It would be so repetitive and boring. 

It has to be something about lived experience and wisdom. But I don't know if I've necessarily gotten to the point where I have good enough lived experience and wisdom to share with anyone. Maybe if I get to that point, I'll probably be wrong, but nonetheless, that would warrant maybe writing another book.

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Given that Beatport Chief Community Officer Sofia Ilyas has dedicated the last 15 years or so of her life supporting burgeoning artists, subgenres and underrepresented groups, it's somewhat surprising that she grew up in a household without music.

As a teen, a Sony Walkman with a radio and mixtapes featuring the likes of Radiohead were a lifeline to a world Ilyas' family didn't want her to participate in. She was even kept home during school field trips to the National Gallery museum in London, where she's since hosted her Piano Day music and art event, and will soon be curating a room for their 200th anniversary celebration.

Ilyas has had to sacrifice a lot — namely, a relationship with her strict Muslim family — to carve out a career in music, and hers is a story of patience and resilience. After leaving her home in Cardiff, Wales for London to pursue higher education (against her family's wishes), she found solace and connection in live music. She'd hang out around the sound booth and introduce herself and ask questions about how things worked. Slowly but surely, she befriended people that worked at labels and venues, and even artists — Four Tet grew to know her by name after she kept coming back to his shows.

After years of being a part of the London scene as a dedicated fan, at age 30, Ilyas became co-manager of indie record label Erased Tapes, where she helped popularize neoclassical music and one of its purveyors, experimental German pianist Nils Frahm. Alongside Frahm, Ilyas launched Piano Day, where a diverse range of artists help them celebrate the past, present and future of the instrument alongside contemporary dancers and painters.

Now, as the first Chief Community Officer at major dance music platform Beatport, Ilyas is building community within and across disparate global electronic communities. She aims to bring more women and people of color into the mix.

"We're living in a time where people are feeling incredibly lonely and disconnected from community," Ilyas tells GRAMMY.com. "I [want to] facilitate people to come in to hear from each other, especially women, in a room that feels safe to hold discussion."

GRAMMY.com recently caught up with Ilyas for an insightful, engaging conversation on her work to support women and people of color in electronic music, making piano cool, her hopes for a more equitable music industry, and much more.

This interview has been edited for clarity.

You recently hosted your Piano Day annual events in Melbourne and London — tell me your vision for Piano Day.

When we launched Piano Day in London with Nils [Frahm], it gave me an excuse to try my own events. I had the artists performing in different corners of the room and a painter in the middle, watching and being inspired. I've always looked at different arts and wondered why they can't also be present in the music world and why we can't support each other across various industries. I've had a contemporary dancer at almost every event I've done in London. Piano Day was my way of having my own event that I could own and really show off my curation. Even with the first event, people were saying the space was beautiful and the curation was so good. I felt really validated.

[For Piano Day,] I always ask artists what they can do that's a little bit different, beyond performing their album or recent EP. I had one artist who had never played piano before, and he made a few mistakes and everyone was applauding him like it's okay. It's really important to me that Piano Day offers something that maybe the audience will never see again and they feel they've experienced something very special. An even bigger extension of that is the lineup that I curate for the National Gallery; coupling a piano player with a dancer who had never met before, and multiple artists only ever played piano maybe three times. I love that the artists have felt safe to trust me and that it's the type of event where they can take a risk.

I'm always looking for acts that are open to trying something a bit different and to be challenged by the fact that it's solo piano predominantly. And to also be inspired by the space, the National Gallery is such a prestigious, iconic venue. It's quite an unusual event because you've got people who've come to see the artists and regular visitors who have just come to see the paintings and they happen to stumble across what's happening. What's even more special for me is the audience is full of children. [I've been wondering] how we can do more music events that kids can come to, because I saw how inspired they were.

You'll be returning to the National Gallery in May to help curate their 200th anniversary event. How are you thinking about everything it stands for while bringing it into the future with music and women and people of color?

I've always had an attachment to the Gallery because there were school trips to it and my parents would never let me go. So for them to email me, "Hey, we've been to a couple of your events, would you like to bring Piano Day to the National Gallery?" I was just overwhelmed and hugely complimented.

I went to each room, sat down and thought about the feelings [it brought up]. I ended up landing on the blue room, it's got a lot of English paintings in it. I liked the idea of English artists against old English paintings, sort of breaking that mold of stiffness and classical looks to be like, this is now the future of London coming into the gallery. We placed the piano right in front of this really famous huge horse painting to really make that statement.

I am very mindful of having a diverse and interesting lineup. I always have one artist that starts the event that is a nod to the traditional kind of way of playing [piano]. It usually evolves to some artists playing the neoclassical sounds and then it moves into more the dance element and vocalist and then it ends on "this is the future" type of thing. I always like having that momentum.

Let's talk about your new record label RISE. What's your vision is with it and who are the artists you're currently working with?

I started Rise last year for artists that want help to get to the next level and get the attention of the label they want. I wanted to do a label that was within my bandwidth because I have a full-time job. If there're artists that I can help get from point A to B, then they go on to C, that's a great thing. I have Frank Hopkins on the label, who's an electronic artist, and Kareem Kumar, who's a Black artist who is known for playing in the streets of London. [Kumar] has built an incredibly huge audience on socials that has been a real inspiration to so many youngsters during COVID. They played together for the first time at the National Gallery, where Frank added some really nice ambient sounds and Kareem played the piano.

Too often, labels are quite a stiff experience, they want to assign that artist forever. If there are any artists that want help on press releases, overall branding and PR, that's exactly what RISE is there for. We can help them release some records, sort their online profile and offer guidance to basically uplift the artist so they can get the attention of booking agents, a label etc.

I see the future of labels where they are this sort of incubator-type of model, where they help an artist and the artists can grow into their own team or go off into another label. I envisage more labels existing like mine, where they're helping the artists onto that next level.

What do you think needs to shift for the music industry to be more supportive — financially and otherwise — of artists, particularly young people of color?

One thing that could be great is the labels that are doing well commercially — I'm sure they do this to a certain extent — choose two artists every year for an incubator program and make it more visible. Right now, most labels' A&R is a very closed thing. I think [it would help] if the labels made a very clear way of sending them demos. I know it is difficult because these days, even [people at] labels are so overworked and they don't have time to think about things like this. Maybe a music organization or a body out there could pick this idea up and take it to some of the major labels.

On the live side, [we need] more community spaces where an artist can come by and play regularly to fans and bring their friends and family around. Most venues are so hard to get on the bill, [so there's a need for] smaller 100-capacity-or-so spaces that open the doors more to local artists. We rely on the same names over and over again, whether it's festivals or local clubs, etc.

With your work as Beatport's Chief Community Officer, what are you actively doing to bring in and celebrate more women and people of color in dance music?

I've always been aware of diversity and my color and who I am in the music industry. Especially when I was around all those white male composers who knew everything about production and I knew nothing, that was very daunting. Even things like drinking — I don't drink and the amount of times it feels uncomfortable to be in the music industry. Many people in South Asian communities, especially Pakistani, grew up in a non-drinking culture, and we should have awareness to make those people feel comfortable otherwise they're never going to join the music industry.

What's been incredible is that Robb [McDaniels, Beatport's CEO] and the team have been, "You own it, you do what you believe." In the first few months, I hired a DEI consultant named Vick Bain, who was an amazing mentor for me. I'm a real big believer in experts. I was able to really upskill myself very fast through having her around.

Putting aside diversity, we're living in a time where people are feeling incredibly lonely and disconnected from community. That's why I'm doing panel events with DJ sets with Beatport. I [want to] facilitate people to come in to hear from each other, especially women, in a room that feels safe to hold discussion.

First meeting of the year was at the National Gallery. Can’t wait to curate my piano event there this year 🥳 pic.twitter.com/RVNFNZWdTV

— Sofia Ilyas (@sofiailyas) January 5, 2024

How have you taken it upon yourself to bring more women and artists of color with you along the way, and do you make space and advocate for people?

It's always something that's on the top of my mind because being a South Asian woman in music is already quite difficult at moments. You look around wondering Is there any support for me? And with my journey of having walked away from my family, part of me is already exhausted from that experience and existing in the music industry in an environment that often feels very alien to me.

Just being a woman in a C-Suite position isn't not easy. I've never been in a role where the focus is to champion women and that's why I'm so grateful for Beatport.

Throughout my career, I've always given out a lot of free PR and guidance, and quite often that's been for women. I've always wanted to be available and I'm always happy to give my time. If anyone reads this, and they want to email me and ask me any questions, I'm always really happy to help.

What's some advice you have for young women of color that want to work in the music industry but don't know where to start?

What I love about the music industry is there are so many gaps, and so many observations you can make and sort of insert yourself in and create something quite special itself. Once you start getting to know your local community, [you can get] so much support from others. I made a lot of my friends by going to vinyl markets and going up to my favorite labels and saying hi. When I was trying to work in the music industry and sending a ton of emails, I got nothing in return. But as soon as I started being a bit more active in the live [music] side, I met so many people.

Don't think you need to do it alone. For so many years, I kept what I was experiencing to myself and I would always present this polished person on Instagram. Lately, I've started really opening up more about how I feel. When I turned 43 recently, I posted on Instagram about how I sometimes overwork to avoid [loneliness]. I was surprised by how many people, especially men, messaged me and said I feel that way too. I'm learning to be more vulnerable.

Don't be afraid to ask questions. You just have to get over ego and fear. I can't sugarcoat it; unfortunately, there are [some] people who are going to make you feel really stupid for asking. Lean on your friends and know you're on the right path. Know that we need more women and more diversity in the industry. Look at people that inspire you. When I used to look at Four Tet, I'd be like, Oh my God, an Indian man on stage, that's so cool. So, look for your inspiration points and be vulnerable with your friends, because it is going to be difficult sometimes. And you can definitely email me anytime. [Chuckles.]

What does a more equitable music industry look like to you?

Well, that's a big question. I think [it would involve] everyone being more conscious. Whether it's a booking agent or a label looking to sign someone, if everyone is thinking around diversity and consciously looking and making their spaces more open to women. I always think about open doors. How can everyone open their doors more while considering the space people are entering into. It's one thing opening your door but it's another thing if that person enters a space and doesn't feel safe.

For me, a place where everyone's consciously thinking about this, and it isn't just on the organization or a few artists or someone like me in my role to try and figure it out. I think if everyone was conscious of it, things would just happen more seamlessly.

How LP Giobbi & Femme House Are Making Space For Women In Dance Music: "If You Really Want To Make A Change, It Can Be Done"

Electronic music is embedded within the diverse world of Latin music and, for the first time, will be recognized in a new Field and Category at the 2024 Latin GRAMMYs. Within that field, the award for Best Latin Electronic Music Performance was created to shine a light on DJs, producers, and artists blending proudly blending electronic music with the sounds of their cultures.

Electronic music embodies various subgenres like house music, techno, trance, electronica, and many others rooted that have been popularized by DJs and producers. Latin artists have long enriched those subgenres: Mexico's Belanova globalized the electro-pop wave, while Bomba Estéreo blended cumbia with electronica in Colombia. 

The explosion of EDM in the 2010s also allowed the careers of Latinx DJs to flourish. Mexican American DJ Deorro has showcased both cultures during sets at music festivals like EDC, Coachella, Tomorrowland, and more. Arca's music pushes the boundaries of electronic music through a Venezuelan and Latin American lens. More recently, Colombian producer Víctor Cárdenas bridged the gap between EDM and reggaeton with the global hit "Pepas" by Farruko. Since then, electronic music has seeped through the work of Latin hit-makers like Tainy, Caleb Calloway, Bizarrap and Diego Raposo. "Pepas" and many of Bizarrap's music sessions crossed over onto Billboard's Hot Dance/Electronic Songs.

"That’s something that’s very big for us," Deorro tells GRAMMY.com about the new category. "How beautiful that this is happening, because it shows that what we’re doing is working, we’re breaking down doors, and we’re creating more opportunities for artists like us in the future." 

In honor of the Latin Recording Academy's new Field and Category, here are eight must-hear Latin electronic music essentials.

Belanova - Cocktail (2003)

Belanova revolutionized the Latin music space with their 2003 debut album Cocktail, an atmospheric LP that seamlessly blends Latin pop with electronic music. In the dreamy deep house of "Tu Ojos," singer Denisse Guerrero sang about getting lost in her lover's eyes. The trippy techno of "Barco De Papel" was reminiscent of the music from Madonna's Ray of Light album. Electronic music on the ambient level wasn’t common in Latin music until Belenova changed the game in Mexico, which later reverberated into the rest of Latin America and the U.S. 

The trio — which includes guitarist Ricardo Arreol and keyboardist Edgar Huerta — later delved into electro-pop on 2007's Fantasía Pop, which won a Latin GRAMMY for Best Pop Album by a Group or Duo the following year. 

Arca - Kick I-II (2020)

Venezuelan producer/artist Arca is a pioneer in the Latin electronic music space. Arca first began producing her experimental electronica in Spanish with her 2017 self-titled album.

Arca then masterfully mixed the diverse sounds of Latin America and beyond with EDM throughout her Kick album series. 

For Kick I, she combined Venezuelan gaita music and reggaeton with a cyberpunk edge in "KLK" featuring Spanish pop star Rosalía. Arca then blended electronica with neo-perreo on Kick II's "Prada" and "Rakata." Both albums garnered Arca GRAMMY and Latin GRAMMY nominations. 

As a trans and non-binary artist, she is also breaking boundaries for the LGBTQ+ community in the genre. Arca is just not creating more space for queer artists in Latin music, but also in EDM at large by embracing the totality of herself in song.  

Bomba Estéreo - Deja (2021)

Bomba Estéreo, which is comprised of core members Simón Mejía and Liliana "Li" Saumet, has masterfully melded the music of Colombia’s Caribbean coast with electronic music. Since breaking out in 2008 with their sophomore album, the group has often reimagined the African and Indigenous rhythms of their country like cumbia through dance music. Bomba Estéreo’s folkloric approach to EDM has led to collaborations with Bad Bunny, Tainy, and Sofi Tukker.    

In 2021, Bomba Estéreo released its most ambitious album Deja, which garnered a GRAMMY and Latin GRAMMY nominations. The title track put a funky spin on the band's signature electro-tropical sound. House music collided with the Afro-Colombian rhythms of champeta in "Conexión Total" featuring Nigerian singer Yemi Alade. Their album that was based on the four classical elements was a breath of fresh air in the Latin music scene. 

Bizarrap - "BZRP Music Sessions #52" (2022)

Argentine producer Bizarrap launched the BZRP Music Sessions on YouTube in 2018, first remaining behind the console for freestyle rapping sessions with local acts. The sessions quickly went viral, and have featured increasingly larger names in music.

Over the past five years, Bizarrap worked elements of electronic music into his hip-hop productions. In 2022, he fully delved into EDM with his global hit "BZRP Music Sessions #52" featuring Spanish singer Quevedo. The traptronica banger peaked at No. 4 on Billboard's Hot Dance/Electronic Songs and earned Bizarrap his first Latin GRAMMY Award. 

Since then, his music sessions have become a global event. Bizarrap later infused electro-pop with a trap breakdown in "BZRP Music Sessions #53" with Shakira, which garnered him two more Latin GRAMMY awards. 

Javiera Mena - Nocturna (2022)

Javiera Mena first debuted as an indie act in 2006 with Esquemas Juveniles. With that freedom as a producer and artist, the Chilean star pushed Latin music into the electronic space with her 2010 album Mena. 

She fully immersed herself into Latin electronica on her latest album, 2022's Nocturna — an album filled with nighttime club bangers that invite everyone to dance with her. Mena also proudly sings about being part of the LGBTQ+ community in the alluring "La Isla de Lesbos" and the fierce house music of "Diva" featuring Chico Blanco. Considering the influence of queer artists in the formation of electronic genres like house, it’s refreshing to see an artist like Mena remind people of those roots and bring that into Latin music.  

Deorro - Orro (2022)

Mexican American producer Deorro has established himself as one of the world's top DJs, and is known for mixing both of his cultures into his music festival sets. Even before the música mexicana explosion last year, he was one of the first mainstream EDM acts to bring the genre to music festivals around the world through his songs and remixes.   

With his debut album, 2022's Orro, Deorro fully bridged música mexicana with house music. He collaborated with Latin acts like Mexico's Los Tucanes De Tijuana and Maffio in "Yo Las Pongo," which blended the band's norteño sound with EDM. Deorro also explored cumbia with deep house in the sweeping "Dime" featuring Los Ángeles Azules and Lauri Garcia. In his recent sets, he is spinning a fiery remix of "Ella Baila Sola" by Eslabon Armado and Peso Pluma

Sinego - Alterego (2023)

Sinego first broke through in 2019 thanks to his house bolero sound like in "Verte Triste," which put a refreshing spin on an age-old Cuban genre. With traditional genres within the Latin diaspora often falling to the wayside as the years go on, he is reintroducing them to new audiences through EDM reimaginings.   

For his debut album, 2023's Alterego, the Colombian producer pushed his electronic music to another level. Sinego traveled to different Latin American countries and Spain to record with local musicians, reimagining genres like cumbia, tango, and mambo through Sinego's EDM lens. With the sultry "Mala," he blended Venezuela's variation of calypso with house music. He also gave Brazilian samba a house music makeover in "Boa Noite" featuring Tonina. 

Diego Raposo - Yo No Era Así Pero De Ahora En Adelante Sí (2023)

Dominican producer Diego Raposo has helped Latin acts like Danny Ocean, Blue Rojo, and Letón Pé embrace elements of electronic music. In 2018, Raposo released his debut album Caribe Express, which demonstrated his knack for mixing the sounds of the Caribbean with EDM. 

Raposo took that inventive mix into overdrive with last year's Yo No Era Así Pero De Ahora En Adelante Sí. The otherworldly "Si Supieras" featuring Okeiflou blended house music with reggaeton, while "Al Contrario" with Akrilla aggressively mixes drum 'n 'bass with dembow. Rapaso also channels Dance Dance Revolution-esque electronica in the spellbinding "Quédate" with Kablito. 

7 Latin DJs To Watch In 2023: Gordo, Arca, The Martinez Brothers & More

Since Mike Piacentini’s switch from computer science to audio engineering in college, his family has been his biggest champions. So, when he received his nomination for Best Immersive Album for Madison Beer's pop album Silence Between Songs, at the 2024 GRAMMYs, it was a no-brainer to invite his parents and wife.

“He’s always been into music. He had his own band, so [the shift] wasn’t surprising at all,” Piacentini’s mother says in the newest episode of Family Matters. “He’s very talented. I knew one day he would be here. It’s great to see it actually happen.”

In homage to his parents’ support, Piacentini offered to let his father write a short but simple acceptance in case he won: “Thank you, Mom and Dad,” he jokes.

Alongside his blood relatives, Piacentini also had support from his colleague Sean Brennan. "It's a tremendous honor, especially to be here with [Piacentini]. We work day in and day out in the studio," Brennan explains. "He's someone who's always there."

Press play on the video above to learn more about Mike Piacentini's support system, and remember to check back to GRAMMY.com for more new episodes of Family Matters.

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