Daniel: Welcome back to Melody Mind! Tonight, we’re diving into a world where the bass rattles your chest, lights dance across the crowd, and every beat feels like it could change your life. And in the middle of it all—behind the decks—are the women who are redefining what it means to be a DJ.
Annabelle: Yes! And it’s not just about mixing tracks—it’s about creating an atmosphere, telling a story without words. You can feel it the moment they drop that perfect track and the whole room moves as one. Female DJs have a way of blending power and emotion that hits differently.
Daniel: You know, when I think about my first encounter with a female DJ, I remember this tiny underground club in Berlin in the late nineties. Smoke in the air, walls sweating from the heat of the crowd, and she—just a silhouette at first—commanded the room with nothing but her records and her focus. She didn’t even look up much, but somehow, every transition felt like she was speaking directly to me.
Annabelle: I love that. My first memory is a little different—it was a summer festival in Spain, open air, sun going down, and a woman named Marta was on stage. She had this effortless charisma, smiling between drops, waving to people she spotted in the crowd. And her set—it wasn’t just beats—it was a journey from disco to deep house, smooth as silk. I remember thinking, “This… this is what freedom sounds like.”
Daniel: Exactly! That’s the magic, right? DJs shape moments. And for a long time, the DJ booth was mostly a boys’ club. Seeing a woman step in and own that space felt revolutionary. It still does sometimes. There’s a different energy when a female DJ plays—it’s not about better or worse, just… different. Nuanced. Layered.
Annabelle: And they’ve always been there, even if the history books don’t tell it loudly. From pirate radio stations to illegal raves in warehouses, there were women behind the decks, pushing boundaries. But in the early days, they often had to fight twice as hard to get the same recognition as men—sometimes even to get booked at all.
Daniel: Right, and that’s something we’ll dig into tonight—the pioneers who were spinning vinyl when club culture was still in its raw, dangerous infancy. I mean, these were the people who carried crates of records heavier than a small car, setting up in places where the electricity wasn’t guaranteed to last the night.
Annabelle: And yet, they did it—night after night. They learned how to read a crowd, when to push them harder, when to let them breathe. That’s an art form in itself. I think that’s why DJs feel so personal to us—they’re not just playing music, they’re shaping our memories in real time.
Daniel: And maybe that’s why certain sets stick with you for years. I still remember the first time I heard a female DJ drop a track I didn’t even know I loved yet. It was like she reached into my subconscious and found the exact rhythm my heart wanted to hear. I can’t even tell you the song now, but I remember the moment—how the lights flashed just right, how the crowd roared, how I felt like part of something bigger than myself.
Annabelle: That’s the thing—those moments become part of your story. And tonight, we’re going to follow that thread—from those first hidden sets in back rooms and basements, through the rise of superstar DJs, to the women today who are headlining the biggest festivals on the planet.
Daniel: But before we go too deep, I want to ask you—what do you think makes a female DJ’s set stand out? Is it style, track selection, energy… or something else entirely?
Annabelle: For me, it’s authenticity. The best sets feel like they could only have come from that person, in that moment. A lot of female DJs bring in influences that aren’t always in the mainstream—world music, rare grooves, unexpected vocals. They’re fearless about weaving emotions into the mix, not just beats.
Daniel: I get that. And maybe that’s why their sets can feel like stories—chapters unfolding across hours. Sometimes it’s joyful, sometimes dark, sometimes nostalgic. But always intentional.
Annabelle: And it’s also about representation. Seeing women at the decks changes the way younger girls imagine themselves. It says, “Yes, this space is for you, too.” That’s powerful. I’ve talked to so many women who said they started DJing because they saw someone who looked like them up there, controlling the night.
Daniel: That’s such an important point. Music scenes thrive when they’re inclusive. And for female DJs, it’s not just about getting booked—it’s about shifting the culture so that no one’s surprised when a woman walks up to the decks.
Annabelle: Exactly. And that culture shift is still happening. Even now, you’ll find lineups that are mostly male. But the more we celebrate and amplify female DJs, the more balanced and diverse those stages will become.
Daniel: Which is why this episode is going to be so much fun. We’re not just telling stories—we’re going to live them. We’ll walk through dark, sweaty basements where the speakers rattle the walls, we’ll stand in massive festival fields under the stars, and we’ll hear the voices of the women who’ve been driving those moments for decades.
Annabelle: So… grab your headphones, turn the volume up, and let’s step into the booth. This is where the story of female DJs begins.
Daniel: You know, the funny thing is—back in the late nineties and early 2000s—if you wanted to see a female DJ, you often had to know where to look. It wasn’t just about finding the club, it was about finding the night, the promoter, the scene that actually gave them the space.
Annabelle: Yes! And those spaces had a completely different vibe. I remember one night in London, tucked away in this grimy warehouse, concrete floor sticky from spilt drinks, a haze of cigarette smoke. The DJ—DJ Rap—was up there with the fiercest concentration, building drum & bass drops so heavy the air felt like it was vibrating in my chest. It was raw. It was pure energy.
Daniel: DJ Rap—absolute legend. She broke through in a time when drum & bass was exploding in the UK, but still so male-dominated. And she didn’t just hold her own—she headlined. Her presence behind the decks made you realise skill has no gender. It’s just about connection, precision, and that instinct to know exactly when to let a track breathe and when to slam the next beat in.
Annabelle: And the connection… that’s something that’s so visible with many female DJs. Take Miss Djax from the Netherlands—she wasn’t just playing techno, she was telling a story through it. The kind of relentless, industrial set that still had these tiny melodic moments—little breaks that made you catch your breath before she hit you again with another wave of bass.
Daniel: I saw Miss Djax at a festival in Belgium once, and honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a crowd so locked in. Thousands of people moving like one single organism, heads down, eyes closed, lost in the rhythm. And there she was—calm, confident, not needing to showboat, just delivering track after track with absolute mastery.
Annabelle: And it’s not just the underground scene—look at someone like Sister Bliss from Faithless. She brought a whole other dimension to live electronic performance, combining DJ sets with live musicians, integrating piano and synths. She made electronic music feel cinematic, like you could see the story in your mind as you danced.
Daniel: Faithless shows were like that—giant, emotional, almost spiritual experiences. And having a woman as the creative force behind so many of their iconic sounds challenged that idea people had at the time, that DJs were just guys in hoodies hiding behind gear.
Annabelle: Exactly. And then there’s the festival circuit. One of my most vivid memories is of a set by Nicole Moudaber—open-air stage, desert backdrop, the sun just dipping below the horizon. She played this deep, hypnotic techno that seemed to stretch time. You could feel the bass in your bones, but there was also this strange serenity in the crowd, like we were all in some shared trance.
Daniel: Nicole Moudaber has that gift—she builds tension over minutes, not seconds. It’s almost like she’s sculpting the set in real time, giving you this space to sink into it. And when the drop finally comes, it’s not just music—it’s a release. The whole crowd exhales together.
Annabelle: And while the sound is everything, the image matters too. Seeing women up there—commanding the decks—changes the whole dynamic. You look up and you see strength, skill, artistry, all wrapped in one moment. It tells every girl in the crowd: this could be you.
Daniel: Yeah, and I think for many people, that realisation is immediate. I remember a younger cousin of mine—we took her to her first festival, and she saw Peggy Gou playing. By the end of the set, she was already talking about getting a controller and learning to mix. That’s the ripple effect right there.
Annabelle: Peggy Gou is a great example—style, presence, charisma. She can flip between genres, pull in unexpected samples, and somehow make it all feel cohesive. And she’s managed to bridge underground credibility with mainstream appeal, which is no small feat.
Daniel: And that’s the thing with many of these women—they’ve had to learn not just to be great DJs, but to navigate the industry, the marketing, the branding, all while staying true to their sound. It’s not just about playing tracks; it’s about building a legacy in a space that hasn’t always been welcoming.
Annabelle: True. And that’s why I think we’re seeing more female DJs stepping into mentorship roles—helping the next generation, creating safer spaces, setting up collectives. It’s about making sure the door stays open wider than it was when they first walked through it.
Daniel: Which is exactly why I’m excited for where this episode goes next. Because before we get to the superstars, we need to go back—to the very beginnings. To the women who were spinning in hidden corners, who maybe never got the fame they deserved, but who shaped the culture for everyone who came after.
Annabelle: Yes. The ones who were there before social media, before festival live streams, before sponsorship deals. Just a woman, a couple of turntables, and a crowd waiting to see if she could keep them moving. And more often than not… she could. Oh, she could.
Daniel: And those are the stories I can’t wait to tell. Because they’re the foundation. And every beat we dance to today? In some way, it started there.
Daniel: Alright, so… if we’re talking about the roots of female DJ culture, we need to set the stage. Let’s rewind to the early 1970s—New York City, the Bronx, a neighbourhood buzzing with block parties and the first rumblings of hip-hop. DJs were starting to realise they could extend a groove, keep people dancing longer, create something brand new out of records that already existed.
Annabelle: Exactly. And while the spotlight often goes to the big names like Kool Herc, Grandmaster Flash, and Afrika Bambaataa, there were women in that scene, too. They just didn’t always get written into the history books. Take someone like DJ Wanda Dee—she’s often remembered as the first female hip-hop DJ to ever touch the decks in a big way.
Daniel: Wanda Dee—yes! Born in the Bronx, right in the epicentre of it all. She wasn’t just playing records, she was mastering turntablism at a time when it was still being invented. And she learned directly from Kool Herc, which means she was part of the genesis of modern DJing.
Annabelle: And think about the challenge she faced—being a woman in a scene that was fiercely competitive, male-dominated, and not exactly gentle about newcomers. You had to prove yourself every single set, every single night. One bad transition and you could lose the crowd, lose your respect. She held her ground.
Daniel: From the Bronx we can jump over to the UK in the late seventies and early eighties, when the pirate radio movement was exploding. That’s where we start hearing about women like DJ Smokin’ Jo—although she came slightly later, her influence was massive. She ended up winning DJ Magazine’s World No. 1 DJ award in the mid-90s, but her roots go back to those raw underground scenes.
Annabelle: And pirate radio was its own beast—tiny, often illegal broadcast setups on rooftops, spinning records to a city that could only hear you if they tuned in just right. For a woman to be doing that back then? It was both rebellious and dangerous. But it meant you were shaping culture in real time, sending your sound straight into people’s homes.
Daniel: It’s wild to think about how much of this was driven by pure passion. No Spotify, no YouTube, no instant fame. You had to be there, in the moment, with your hands on the vinyl, feeling the weight of the record, the resistance of the slipmat. And these women weren’t just along for the ride—they were pushing the boundaries of what DJs could do.
Annabelle: Speaking of pushing boundaries, we have to talk about Miss Djax’s early days in the Netherlands. Before she became a techno powerhouse, she was running her own label—Djax-Up-Beats—and giving a platform to raw, underground talent. It wasn’t just about her own sets; she was building a whole ecosystem around the music she loved.
Daniel: And that’s a theme we’ll see again and again—female DJs not only breaking into the booth, but also creating infrastructure. Labels, club nights, mentoring younger DJs. They weren’t just part of the culture; they were architects of it.
Annabelle: Another name that deserves more recognition is K-Hand, also known as Kelli Hand. She was one of Detroit’s first female techno producers and DJs, starting out in the late 80s. She earned the title “First Lady of Detroit” because she was one of the few women spinning in a scene dominated by guys like Juan Atkins and Derrick May. She didn’t just play the records—she made them.
Daniel: K-Hand was fearless. She once said she wanted to be judged on her skills, not her gender. And her skills were undeniable—deep, driving sets that could hold a warehouse crowd for hours. In Detroit, where the techno sound was literally being invented, she carved out her own space and left a legacy that younger DJs still draw from today.
Annabelle: And then there’s the disco era in New York, which gave us someone like Sharon White. She was spinning at places like Paradise Garage and The Saint—venues that were at the heart of dance culture. She was also one of the first women to get major gigs in the gay club scene, where the energy was absolutely electric and the music was breaking all sorts of boundaries.
Daniel: Sharon White had that perfect blend—she could move from disco to early house seamlessly. And because she was part of the gay club scene, she was in the middle of a cultural movement that wasn’t just about music—it was about freedom, expression, and community. Every night in those clubs was a statement.
Annabelle: Exactly. And it’s important to remember, those early female DJs weren’t just entertainers—they were often activists by default. Just by being there, by being visible, they were challenging stereotypes and changing minds.
Daniel: When you think about it, they were laying the foundation for the festival headliners we see today. Without Wanda Dee in the Bronx, Sharon White in New York, K-Hand in Detroit, and the pirate radio queens in London, the global DJ scene would look very different.
Annabelle: And we can’t forget the courage it took. No social safety nets, no guarantee of a steady gig. Just the love of music and the belief that they had something worth sharing. It’s a kind of bravery that resonates even now.
Daniel: And maybe that’s why their stories feel so alive, even decades later. Because they weren’t just building careers—they were building culture from scratch.
Daniel: So, by the mid to late 1980s, club culture was starting to splinter into all these different scenes—house in Chicago, techno in Detroit, acid house in the UK. And that gave female DJs new openings to carve their place. You could feel this momentum building, even if the lineups still leaned heavily male.
Annabelle: One of the names that always comes to mind for me from that period is Lisa Loud. She was called the “First Lady of House” in the UK, and she had this magnetic energy. Her career really took off during the acid house explosion, and she was right there at those legendary raves, playing sunrise sets that felt like pure euphoria.
Daniel: Lisa Loud was iconic—not just for her mixing, but for how she understood the crowd. Those sunrise moments you mentioned… she knew exactly when to pull back, when to build, when to give people that emotional lift. And this was before all the high-tech gear we have now. No synced BPMs, no screens telling you where to mix—just your ears, your timing, and your connection with the dancers in front of you.
Annabelle: And in Germany, you had Monika Kruse making waves in the early 90s. She started out playing at illegal raves in warehouses and under bridges in Munich. Then she became one of the key figures in European techno, not just as a DJ but as a label boss with Terminal M. She’s one of those artists who’s stayed relevant for decades because she’s always evolving her sound.
Daniel: Monika Kruse is the definition of longevity in a DJ career. And she brought this warmth and positivity into techno, which can sometimes feel cold or mechanical. Her sets were driving but still human—there was always some groove or melody pulling you in.
Annabelle: Then you’ve got Smokin’ Jo in London—she was already in the game by the early 90s and eventually became the only female DJ ever to be awarded the No. 1 spot in DJ Magazine’s Top 100 DJs. Her style was funky, soulful, but with enough punch to keep the dance floor packed for hours. I think her sets showed a side of house music that was both sophisticated and accessible.
Daniel: And she was a trailblazer in visibility, too. Smokin’ Jo played at clubs like Ministry of Sound, Space Ibiza, and Pacha, which were the global meccas of electronic music. Having a woman in those headlining slots back then sent a huge message to the industry—talent wins, period.
Annabelle: Speaking of Ibiza, Sarah Main was another key figure. She became one of the island’s most recognisable DJs in the late 90s, especially through her residency at Pacha. She was part of that Balearic sound—mixing house with tropical, laid-back vibes that perfectly matched the sunsets and beach clubs of the island.
Daniel: Ibiza was such a proving ground. If you could hold a crowd there, with people from all over the world, you could hold a crowd anywhere. And Sarah Main had that effortless cool—you could see she was enjoying herself as much as the audience, which made her sets even more infectious.
Annabelle: And then there’s the trance scene of the late 90s—Claudia Cazacu, who became a big name in the 2000s, was cutting her teeth around then. She brought this high-energy, melodic style that was perfect for the peak-time moments when you wanted the crowd to just lift off. She wasn’t afraid to go big with emotion, and trance fans loved her for it.
Daniel: Trance was such a massive scene globally, and having women like Claudia step into those festival slots helped shift perceptions. Because when you think about it, the image of a DJ in the 90s was still overwhelmingly male—black T-shirt, baseball cap, stoic expression. Claudia came in with this expressive, engaging presence, and the music followed suit.
Annabelle: Exactly. And even in smaller, more niche genres, there were women making big waves. DJ Heather in Chicago was one of the best house DJs of that era—deep, soulful, and funky. She was part of the trio “SuperJane” along with Colette and Lady D, and they showed that women could dominate the decks in America’s underground house scene, just as much as in Europe’s.
Daniel: And those underground scenes were so important. They weren’t about fame or flashy production—they were about community. You had these small clubs where the DJ was only a few feet from the dancers, no barriers, no VIP sections, just shared energy. And the women in those booths were shaping the sound just as much as the men, even if the mainstream didn’t always notice.
Annabelle: That’s one of the reasons I love looking back at this era—it’s proof that female DJs weren’t a “new thing” in the 2000s. They’ve been there the whole time, quietly or not-so-quietly influencing the culture, building their own followings, and passing down knowledge to the next wave.
Daniel: And the late 90s also set the stage for the superstar DJ era we know now. Big festivals, international tours, brand sponsorships—all of that was on the horizon. But before any of it took over, you had this grassroots, sweat-drenched, vinyl-heavy scene where talent was the only currency that mattered. And women proved, time and again, that they had it in spades.
Annabelle: And what I find beautiful is that many of these women are still active today—still touring, still producing, still influencing. It’s like they’ve carried the DNA of those early scenes into the present, adapting to every technological change along the way.
Daniel: Right—and when we talk about female DJs now, with all the visibility they have, it’s easy to forget the decades of groundwork laid by these pioneers. Without them, the stages wouldn’t be as open, and the lineups wouldn’t be as diverse. They made space where there was none.
Daniel: By the time we reached the late 90s, things were shifting fast. DJ culture was going global—festivals were popping up everywhere, and suddenly you could see the same headliner in London one week, Tokyo the next. And for female DJs, this was a moment to either break through or get left behind. Some of them grabbed that moment with both hands.
Annabelle: Absolutely. One of the most striking examples is Ellen Allien from Berlin. She emerged in the late 90s, bringing this unique blend of minimal, techno, and experimental sounds. But she wasn’t just a DJ—she founded BPitch Control, a label that would define an entire generation of electronic music in Germany. That’s huge—being both a scene leader and an artist at the same time.
Daniel: Ellen Allien had this Berlin energy—edgy, artistic, and totally uncompromising. And she adapted so well to the change in technology. As CDJs started replacing turntables, some DJs struggled to make the transition. She embraced it, used the new tools creatively, and kept her sound evolving.
Annabelle: Another big name from that period is Miss Kittin—real name Caroline Hervé—from France. She brought electroclash into the mainstream in the early 2000s, with that cool, detached vocal style layered over dirty, synth-driven beats. Tracks like “Frank Sinatra” and “1982” with The Hacker weren’t just club hits—they were cultural moments.
Daniel: And Miss Kittin was interesting because she blurred the line between DJ and performer. She could be behind the decks one night, singing live the next, or doing both in the same set. That versatility was rare, and it made her stand out in a scene that was still figuring out how to present electronic music to bigger audiences.
Annabelle: Exactly. And around the same time in the US, you had DJ Irene making waves in the hard house and high-energy dance scenes. She was one of the first female DJs I remember seeing on mix compilation CDs in the late 90s, and she had this intense, almost chaotic style that just worked in the clubs she played. She wasn’t afraid to push the tempo, keep people sweating.
Daniel: DJ Irene’s energy was legendary. And it was in contrast to someone like Colleen “Cosmo” Murphy, who was taking a more eclectic approach—digging into soul, funk, disco, and house. Colleen was mentored by David Mancuso, the man behind The Loft in New York, which was basically the birthplace of modern dance parties. That mentorship gave her this deep respect for musical history that still comes through in her sets today.
Annabelle: And speaking of history—by the turn of the millennium, female DJs were starting to headline international festivals. DJ Rap, who we mentioned earlier, was crossing over from drum & bass into more mainstream dance events. Lisa Lashes from the UK was dominating the hard house circuit, regularly playing massive raves to tens of thousands of people. It was the beginning of seeing women not just in the booth, but on the biggest stages in the world.
Daniel: Lisa Lashes was a powerhouse. She had this fierce presence and wasn’t afraid to push her sets to the limit. And her success opened doors—suddenly promoters had proof that a woman could sell just as many tickets, move just as many records, and energise a crowd just as much as any man on the lineup.
Annabelle: And then technology really started shaking things up. By the early 2000s, laptops and software like Traktor and Serato were creeping into the scene. For some old-school DJs, that was heresy. But for a lot of women breaking in, it was an opportunity—less gear to carry, more creative possibilities, and a chance to stand out by incorporating loops, effects, and samples in ways vinyl alone couldn’t.
Daniel: True—and I think that’s one reason you started seeing more female DJs rising quickly in the 2000s. The technical barriers were shifting. It wasn’t just about who had the money for the biggest record collection—it was about taste, creativity, and adaptability. And many of these women were ahead of the curve in using new tech to craft unique sets.
Annabelle: Still, even with the tech advantage, they faced the same old prejudices. I remember talking to a DJ who said she’d still get people asking, “So, do you actually mix live?” even after she’d been touring for years. The implication being that women needed to prove themselves more than men. That kind of bias didn’t vanish overnight.
Daniel: Yeah, and that’s why these pioneers are so important—they didn’t just excel musically, they pushed back against those stereotypes. And by doing so, they changed the culture for the next wave. By the mid-2000s, seeing women like Claudia Cazacu, DJ Heather, or Anja Schneider on a flyer was becoming normal. And that’s the real victory—it stopped feeling unusual.
Annabelle: Exactly. That’s when you know progress is real—when it’s no longer a headline that a woman is DJing, it’s just part of the scene. But the early 2000s still had this buzz, this sense that the gates had opened wider, and more talent was pouring through. It was an exciting time to watch, and even more exciting for the women who had fought for that moment.
Daniel: And it’s worth remembering—many of these early 2000s female DJs are still around today, still inspiring. Their stories are the bridge between the underground pioneers of the 70s, 80s, and 90s, and the global superstars we’ll talk about later in the episode.
Daniel: So, if the first two chapters were about the people—the pioneers—this one’s about the sound and the tools that shaped it. Because every revolution in DJ culture has been tied to a revolution in technology, and female DJs have been right there, bending those tools to their will.
Annabelle: Exactly. And I think one of the most powerful things female DJs have done is to turn limitations into style. In the early days, the gear was heavy, fragile, and limited—two turntables, a mixer, maybe some basic EQ. But they learned to work magic within those boundaries. It was about technique, not tech.
Daniel: Right. Take vinyl mixing—no waveforms, no sync buttons. Just your ears. Female DJs like K-Hand, Miss Djax, and Smokin’ Jo became absolute masters of beatmatching, because they had to. And when you saw them nailing a transition live, knowing it was all done by hand, it was electrifying.
Annabelle: And they weren’t just beatmatching—they were storytelling. Dropping a vocal sample at the perfect moment, layering an acapella over a bassline from another track, or teasing a recognisable hook before pulling it away to build tension. Those skills are timeless, and you still hear them in sets today.
Daniel: Then came the era of CDJs in the late 90s and early 2000s. Some DJs resisted them, but a lot of women embraced the possibilities—instant looping, pitch shifting, hot cues. DJs like Nicole Moudaber and Monika Kruse were quick to incorporate those features into their performances, using loops to extend breakdowns or build hypnotic layers live.
Annabelle: Exactly—and that looping ability really changed the dynamic. Instead of being locked into a track’s original structure, you could reshape it on the fly. Female DJs with a strong producer mindset especially thrived here, because they saw the decks not just as playback devices, but as instruments.
Daniel: And speaking of instruments—some DJs blurred the line between DJ and live act completely. Ellen Allien often integrated drum machines and samplers into her sets, so she could create rhythms in real time. Same with Anja Schneider—she brought in live elements that made each performance unique, even if the tracklist was similar.
Annabelle: Yeah, that hybrid approach really became a thing in the 2000s. And you can see how it’s evolved now with artists like The Blessed Madonna, who will mix across decades and genres, layering edits and remixes she’s crafted herself. It’s part historian, part remixer, part selector. That range is only possible because of the tech we have now—but it’s rooted in skills that came from the vinyl days.
Daniel: Exactly—because tech is only as good as the creativity behind it. I’ve seen DJs with the most advanced setups play sets that felt flat, and others with just two decks and a bag of records absolutely destroy the dancefloor. The difference? Intent. Female DJs who came up in tougher conditions often bring that intentionality into every transition, every track choice.
Annabelle: Another big shift was digital libraries. Before, you had to physically carry crates of vinyl—sometimes a hundred records or more. That alone was a barrier, especially for women, because let’s face it, hauling gear through back alleys at 3am isn’t glamorous or always safe. Laptops and USB sticks changed that. It opened up mobility and gave more DJs the freedom to tour without breaking their backs—or the bank.
Daniel: And with that came a different kind of freedom—the ability to bring thousands of tracks anywhere. That’s a lot of power, but also a lot of responsibility. Some DJs got overwhelmed, playing too many tracks without letting them breathe. The best ones—like Peggy Gou or Honey Dijon—use that library to curate a set that feels both fresh and focused.
Annabelle: Honey Dijon is a great example. Her sets aren’t just technically tight—they’re journeys through house history, full of disco roots, deep grooves, and political undertones. And she’s open about the fact that technology helps her weave those narratives faster and more seamlessly than she could in the old days.
Daniel: I also think about effects units and how they’ve been used to add drama. Early on, effects were subtle—maybe a bit of reverb or delay. But some female DJs took it further, using filter sweeps, echoes, even pitch shifts as performance tools. It became part of their signature sound.
Annabelle: True—and I’ve noticed that many women in the scene use effects not just for hype moments, but to create texture. Instead of just “here comes the big drop,” they use it to make the transitions feel alive, to create tension and release in ways that keep you hooked without blowing your ears off every 30 seconds.
Daniel: And now, with modern tech, DJs can literally remix on the fly—isolating vocals, swapping drum patterns, live-editing tracks. It’s wild. But what’s exciting is seeing how female DJs take these tools and still bring that human touch. It’s not about pressing buttons; it’s about sculpting a moment in real time.
Annabelle: And that’s something that tech can’t replace—the ability to read a crowd. No matter how advanced your setup is, you still need to feel the room. You can have the next track cued perfectly, but if you see the energy dipping, you need to pivot. That instinct is what separates a good DJ from a great one, and so many of these women have mastered it over decades of gigs.
Daniel: Exactly. And as much as we’re talking about tech here, it all comes back to that—connection. The best gear in the world can’t make you feel what a real DJ makes you feel when they know exactly what you need to hear next.
Daniel: So we’ve talked about the gear, but what about the styles? Because for me, some of the biggest revolutions female DJs have brought weren’t just about technology—it was about how they approached the mix itself.
Annabelle: Yes, totally. I think one of the clearest examples is genre fluidity. While a lot of DJs used to stick rigidly to one genre—house all night, techno all night—many female DJs became known for crossing those boundaries in a single set. And not just in a “play one track from each genre” way, but weaving them together so it feels like one continuous journey.
Daniel: Right. The Blessed Madonna does that brilliantly—she can start with disco, slide into gospel house, throw in a techno banger, and somehow it all makes sense. And that’s not just taste, it’s skill. You have to know how to match energy levels, how to make transitions feel natural even when the BPMs and moods are completely different.
Annabelle: Honey Dijon is another master of that. She’ll drop a deep, sultry house track, then out of nowhere bring in a vocal from a classic soul record, and it works because she understands the emotional arc. She’s not afraid to be bold with those choices, and that boldness becomes her signature.
Daniel: And then there’s the art of long blends. DJs like Nicole Moudaber can let two tracks ride together for minutes, creating this hypnotic groove where you almost forget where one ends and the other begins. It’s subtle, but it’s powerful. And it takes an incredible ear to pull off without it sounding muddy.
Annabelle: Exactly. And what’s interesting is that those long blends often come from a background in vinyl, where quick cuts weren’t always possible. You had to let the music breathe. Even now, with all the digital options for instant drops and effects, some of the best female DJs still prefer those patient, tension-building transitions.
Daniel: Then you’ve got the other end of the spectrum—DJs who thrive on rapid-fire mixing. Think of Annie Mac during her BBC Radio 1 peak or live festival sets—constantly moving, constantly shifting energy, taking you from track to track like a rollercoaster. That kind of style is about keeping the crowd on their toes, never letting them settle too much.
Annabelle: And Annie Mac also brought in that curator mentality. Her sets weren’t just about playing what was hot—they were about introducing people to something new. She had this trust with her audience, both live and on the radio, so she could take bigger risks with track selection and people would follow her anywhere she went musically.
Daniel: That trust is a big deal. When a DJ earns it, they can play tracks the crowd doesn’t know and still keep everyone engaged. And a lot of female DJs have built careers on that—being tastemakers, not just entertainers.
Annabelle: Then there’s the storytelling element. DJs like Peggy Gou often structure sets like narratives—starting light and playful, building into something darker and heavier, then opening back up into euphoric moments. It’s almost cinematic. You leave feeling like you’ve been somewhere, not just danced for two hours.
Daniel: I love that cinematic approach. And it’s not just about tempo or key—it’s about textures, moods, even cultural references. A well-placed vocal sample or a subtle percussive pattern can completely shift how a set feels. And when you see a DJ craft that intentionally, it’s art.
Annabelle: And speaking of art, some female DJs have completely redefined what “live remixing” means. They’ll drop an acapella over a track you’d never expect, or layer two songs from different decades and make it sound like they were meant to be together. That level of musicality is something you can’t fake—it comes from knowing your music library inside out.
Daniel: It’s like musical chess—thinking two or three moves ahead. You can hear it in sets by DJs like Maya Jane Coles, who’s brilliant at layering subtle melodic elements from one track under another, so by the time she’s fully transitioned, you’ve already been living in the new track without realising it.
Annabelle: Exactly. And that skill extends beyond clubs into recorded mixes. When you listen to a mix CD or a SoundCloud set from one of these women, you hear how they control pacing, how they create peaks and valleys. It’s the difference between just hearing a bunch of songs and feeling like you’ve been taken on a journey.
Daniel: And let’s not forget stage presence. Because mixing skills are essential, but so is how you connect with the crowd physically. DJs like Charlotte de Witte have this intensity—you can see she’s locked into the groove as much as you are, and that energy flows right back into the audience.
Annabelle: On the other hand, you’ve got DJs with a more playful stage presence, like Peggy Gou dancing and smiling through her whole set. That body language makes the crowd feel welcomed in, like it’s a shared experience rather than a performance from on high.
Daniel: Both approaches work—it’s about authenticity. If you’re naturally intense, lean into it. If you’re naturally warm and playful, own that. Crowds can tell when it’s genuine, and that’s what makes the connection real.
Annabelle: And I think that’s the core of all these stylistic revolutions—female DJs making space for more ways to be a DJ. You don’t have to fit one mold, you don’t have to play one style. You can be eclectic, you can be genre-specific, you can be experimental or accessible. The field is so much wider now, and that’s largely thanks to the women who dared to mix it differently.
Daniel: You know, Annabelle, one thing we haven’t touched on enough is how producing your own tracks changes the game for DJs. Because for a long time, you could be a great DJ and still never get international recognition unless you had a big track under your name.
Annabelle: Yes, and that was a big hurdle for female DJs early on. Promoters often booked based on chart success, and if the industry wasn’t signing many women to labels, it created a vicious cycle. But once female DJs started releasing their own music, everything shifted—they weren’t just selectors anymore, they were creators shaping the sound of the scene.
Daniel: Exactly. Look at Charlotte de Witte—her rise exploded once her own tracks started charting on Beatport. And the thing is, when you’re playing your own productions in a set, it adds this whole other dimension. You’re not just mixing—you’re performing your own art live in front of people, seeing their reaction in real time.
Annabelle: That’s such a powerful feedback loop. And for artists like Peggy Gou, producing wasn’t just about making club bangers—it was about creating tracks with personality. “It Makes You Forget” is a perfect example. It’s playful, groovy, instantly recognisable. Once a DJ has a signature track like that, it becomes part of their identity.
Daniel: And that identity is crucial in a crowded market. There are thousands of skilled DJs, but when you combine that with producing, you carve out a unique space. Honey Dijon’s productions, for example, fuse deep house with disco and political messages—her tracks carry her voice, not just her taste.
Annabelle: Exactly. And you can hear that same philosophy in Nicole Moudaber’s productions—dark, driving techno that mirrors the hypnotic energy of her sets. When you hear a track of hers in a club, even if you don’t know it’s hers, you feel that signature weight and depth in the sound design.
Daniel: Sound design is such an underrated part of this conversation. Because when a DJ produces, they think differently about frequencies, layering, even how a track will feel on a massive sound system. That knowledge feeds back into their DJing—they know which elements will cut through, which will wrap around the crowd like a blanket.
Annabelle: And for many female DJs, producing was also a way to sidestep gatekeepers. If you make your own music and release it yourself, you don’t need to wait for a label to give you permission. That’s how a lot of artists built their reputations in the early days of SoundCloud and Bandcamp—by just putting their tracks out there and letting the audience decide.
Daniel: And some took it further—running their own labels. Ellen Allien with BPitch Control, Monika Kruse with Terminal M, Miss Djax with Djax-Up-Beats. That’s not just producing for yourself—it’s curating a whole sound, giving a platform to other artists, and shaping the scene from the top down.
Annabelle: That kind of leadership changes the conversation. Because suddenly, you’re not just asking for a seat at the table—you’re building the table. And it also reinforces your brand as a DJ, because your sets naturally weave in the music from your label, making them even more distinctive.
Daniel: And then there’s the crossover into remixing. Many female DJs became known for remixes that outshone the originals. That’s another kind of production skill—taking something existing and reshaping it to fit your vision. It’s a creative stamp, and if it’s good enough, it can follow you for years.
Annabelle: Honey Dijon’s remixes come to mind immediately. She’ll take a track that’s already strong and give it this injection of groove and warmth that makes it impossible not to dance. And she’s not afraid to reimagine the structure completely, which is why her versions often become the definitive club edit.
Daniel: And let’s not forget the technical revolution of producing on the road. With modern laptops, portable MIDI controllers, and even apps, DJs can create tracks in hotel rooms, tour buses, anywhere. That means they can test new material in their sets within days of making it, which keeps their performances evolving constantly.
Annabelle: That’s such a big deal for the connection with fans. Imagine dancing to a track on Friday night that the DJ literally made on Wednesday. It makes the experience so personal and immediate. And that’s something female DJs have really capitalised on—they know their community, they know what will resonate right now, not just six months from now when a label finally approves a release date.
Daniel: And the creativity in production also influences how they build sets. If you’ve produced a track yourself, you know exactly which other tracks will blend perfectly with it, which ones will make it shine. It’s like designing a stage for your own performance—everything fits together intentionally.
Annabelle: And maybe that’s why the producer-DJ hybrid has become the dominant model for headliners today. The biggest female DJs—Peggy Gou, Charlotte de Witte, Amelie Lens—they all produce. And their tracks aren’t just calling cards, they’re the backbone of their live sets, the moments people wait for all night.
Daniel: It’s a full circle—production fuels the DJing, DJing fuels the production. And for female DJs especially, it’s been a way to take full control of their artistic vision, from the studio to the stage. That’s how revolutions happen—not just with new gear, but with artists who use it to make something the world hasn’t heard before.
Daniel: So, up to now we’ve talked about the artistry, the technology, the music. But there’s another side to being a female DJ that’s just as important to understand—and it’s not all lights and applause.
Annabelle: Absolutely. Behind the decks, you see confidence, you see control. But behind the scenes? Many women have had to navigate a constant undercurrent of sexism, stereotyping, and having their skills questioned. And that’s exhausting, especially when all you want is to focus on your craft.
Daniel: I’ve heard so many stories about promoters introducing female DJs as “the best female DJ” instead of just “the best DJ.” It sounds small, but it’s like putting them in a separate category from the start—as if the default is male and women are the exception.
Annabelle: Oh, I’ve had friends tell me about arriving at a gig and being mistaken for the girlfriend of one of the male DJs. Or being asked if they really mixed live. It’s not just insulting—it puts you in the position of having to prove yourself twice as hard, every single night.
Daniel: And it’s not just the attitudes—it’s the working conditions. Touring sounds glamorous, but it can be physically brutal. Late-night sets, early flights, sleeping in hotels that all blur together. And for women, there’s the extra layer of having to think about safety when travelling alone or arriving at a club at 2am in a strange city.
Annabelle: Right. There’s a lot of vulnerability in those moments—walking through dark back entrances, dealing with drunk audience members, or having to negotiate with security who might not even know you’re the headliner. That’s why so many female DJs rely on tight-knit crews or tour managers they trust completely.
Daniel: And that’s where solidarity comes in. I’ve noticed in recent years more and more collectives forming—groups like Discwoman or female-led event series that make sure the environment is safe and supportive for the artists. It’s not just about booking more women, it’s about building an ecosystem where they can actually thrive.
Annabelle: Yes, and those collectives are life-changing for younger DJs. It’s one thing to fight your way into the scene alone, it’s another to have a network of women who share advice, contacts, even gear. I’ve seen artists lend each other equipment just so someone could play their first big gig—it’s that level of mutual support.
Daniel: And yet, there’s still the challenge of being judged on appearance before skill. Social media has only amplified that pressure—female DJs are expected to be style icons as well as technical masters. For some, that’s empowering, but for others, it’s an unfair extra job on top of everything else.
Annabelle: Exactly. And it’s complicated—some women embrace fashion and visuals as part of their artistry, others feel it’s a distraction from the music. But the point is, male DJs rarely face the same scrutiny. Nobody’s telling them to “smile more” during a set or asking what they’re wearing for the afterparty.
Daniel: And even with all these obstacles, female DJs keep breaking through. They’ve learned to turn the stereotypes on their head. I’ve seen women walk into a booth where the energy was flat, and within minutes, they had the crowd losing their minds. That’s the kind of skill you can’t fake.
Annabelle: Yes, and the irony is that sometimes those moments happen after a promoter booked them as a “token” to diversify the lineup. They might have been underestimated going in, but they walk out having completely owned the night—and changed a few minds in the process.
Daniel: And I think that’s part of the social change we’ve seen—those wins, those undeniable performances, slowly shift perceptions. Over time, they make it normal for women to headline, to run labels, to be at the very top of the industry.
Annabelle: But there’s still work to do. Lineups at major festivals are still often male-heavy, and pay gaps exist even in the DJ world. I’ve spoken to artists who found out later that the guy playing before them earned twice their fee for the same length set. That’s why transparency and open conversation are so important.
Daniel: And that’s where advocacy groups come in—pushing for equal pay, equal opportunities, and calling out unfair practices. It’s not just about fairness—it’s about making sure the next generation of DJs sees a career path that doesn’t burn them out before they get started.
Annabelle: Exactly. Because for every superstar DJ we celebrate, there are hundreds of women grinding it out in smaller clubs, building their skills, and dealing with these same challenges on a smaller scale. If we don’t change the environment for them, we limit the entire scene’s potential.
Daniel: And the daily grind is real. You might see a one-hour set on Instagram, but behind it is weeks of track digging, travel schedules that make normal life impossible, and nights where you’re playing to ten people instead of ten thousand. You have to love it enough to push through that, and a lot of these women do—because the music is worth it.
Annabelle: And maybe that’s what ties all of this together—the resilience. Female DJs have had to be resilient in ways that go beyond artistic perseverance. They’ve had to protect themselves, build their own networks, and fight for their place every step of the way. And in doing so, they’ve made the culture stronger for everyone.
Daniel: You know, people see a DJ’s Instagram feed and think it’s all champagne, sunsets, and perfect crowds. But the touring lifestyle—especially for female DJs—can be one of the toughest parts of the job.
Annabelle: Oh, totally. The reality is endless airports, soundchecks in half-empty rooms, and sleeping in hotel beds that all feel the same after a while. You’re changing time zones so often that your body doesn’t know when to be awake. And for women, there’s the added challenge of safety and comfort in places where you might not know anyone.
Daniel: And it’s not just the travel—it’s the hours. A club gig might start at 2am. That means you’re prepping during the day, arriving at the venue around midnight, waiting around, and then playing until sunrise. Your body clock is completely upside down, and you have to find ways to function like that for weeks at a time on tour.
Annabelle: Exactly. And that’s why you see female DJs develop these little personal routines—meditation apps on the phone, certain meals before a set, even specific stretches for the back and shoulders after hours of standing. It’s not glamorous, but it’s survival. Without that self-care, burnout comes fast.
Daniel: And then there’s the emotional side of it—being away from friends and family for months, waking up in a city and forgetting where you are for a second. That’s disorienting. And if you’re doing it alone, it can feel isolating, no matter how many fans you see at night.
Annabelle: Yes, and that’s why community is everything. I’ve heard from DJs who say that what keeps them sane on the road is knowing other women in the industry they can link up with in different cities—people who understand the lifestyle and can offer a safe couch or just a friendly face for coffee before the show.
Daniel: That global sisterhood is powerful. It’s like an invisible network—someone’s touring Asia, they post a message, and instantly they’ve got contacts for trusted drivers, safe hotels, even local record stores worth visiting. It’s grassroots support, but it makes the difference between surviving and thriving on tour.
Annabelle: And sometimes it’s more than just logistics—it’s emotional backup. If you’ve just had a creepy promoter, a bad crowd experience, or you’re just homesick, being able to call another woman who gets it is priceless. Those conversations can be the lifeline that keeps you going until the next good gig.
Daniel: And let’s talk about health. Touring can be brutal on the body—irregular meals, no real exercise, dehydration. I’ve noticed a lot of female DJs are very intentional about their health routines now—things like no alcohol before sets, carrying healthy snacks, staying hydrated even if it means fewer toasts with champagne backstage.
Annabelle: Exactly. It’s not the rock’n’roll lifestyle people imagine. If you want to last in this game, you need stamina. And that’s even more important for women, because people are often watching more closely—waiting to see if you “can handle it.” So staying sharp, both mentally and physically, becomes part of the job description.
Daniel: And there’s also the gear side of it. While some DJs can travel light with just USBs, others still carry vinyl, controllers, or personal mixers. For women, lugging heavy cases through airports at 3am can be a safety risk, so many have strategies—using flight cases with wheels, booking trusted transport, or teaming up with other artists for travel.
Annabelle: Right. And speaking of teaming up, I love how many women now tour together—not just as back-to-back sets, but as co-headliners or even group tours. It creates a safer environment, and the energy on stage when two friends are playing together is unmatched. The crowd feels that connection instantly.
Daniel: It’s also smart from a branding perspective—two artists pooling fanbases, doubling reach, and showing promoters that women don’t have to be in competition. That’s been one of the biggest shifts in recent years—female DJs lifting each other up instead of being forced into that “only room for one” mentality.
Annabelle: That “scarcity” myth was one of the most damaging things for women in the scene. For years, lineups would have one token female slot, so naturally promoters—and sometimes the DJs themselves—saw each other as rivals. But now, with more women in the game and more collectives breaking through, that’s changing. Collaboration is the new currency.
Daniel: And collaboration doesn’t just happen on stage. It’s in sharing contacts, swapping travel tips, recommending other women for gigs you can’t take. That’s how you build a sustainable network. And honestly, it’s one of the healthiest changes I’ve seen in the industry in years.
Annabelle: It’s a bit like the underground rave scene ethos coming full circle—music as community, not just commerce. And for women, that sense of solidarity can turn a lonely, exhausting tour into something energising. You’re not just passing through cities—you’re building relationships everywhere you go.
Daniel: And I think that’s why so many of these female DJs seem so grounded despite their insane schedules. They’ve learned how to pace themselves, how to lean on their networks, and how to create little pockets of home wherever they are in the world.
Annabelle: Exactly. And that’s something you don’t see in the highlight reels—but it’s the foundation that keeps the whole thing running. Without it, the tour life can chew you up and spit you out. With it, you can actually enjoy the ride and keep the music flowing for years.
Daniel: You know, one of the things that really stands out to me about so many female DJs is how they’ve turned their careers into platforms for change. It’s not just about playing music—it’s about using that spotlight to push for something bigger.
Annabelle: Yes, and it’s so inspiring to see. Some are vocal about gender equality in lineups, others focus on LGBTQ+ rights, racial justice, or safer club environments. They’re not afraid to take a stand, even if it means alienating part of the crowd or losing bookings. That kind of courage is huge in an industry where reputation is everything.
Daniel: Honey Dijon is a perfect example—she’s never shied away from speaking openly about being a Black trans woman in the music industry. And she weaves that advocacy into her sets, her interviews, even her fashion collaborations. It’s not just talk—it’s part of her brand, part of her art.
Annabelle: Exactly. And she’s proof that activism doesn’t have to be separate from entertainment. In fact, when you integrate it authentically, it deepens your connection with your audience. People aren’t just dancing to the music—they’re connecting with the person behind it, and what they stand for.
Daniel: And then there’s The Blessed Madonna—she’s used her platform to call out festival lineups that lack diversity, and she’s actively worked to get more women and underrepresented artists booked. That’s not a small thing when you’re at her level—it sends a message to other headliners and promoters that change is possible if you push for it.
Annabelle: And let’s be honest—sometimes that activism is met with resistance. There are still parts of the scene that resist change, either because they don’t see the problem or because they benefit from keeping things the way they are. So when a female DJ speaks up, she’s risking backlash, both online and behind the scenes. But the ones who do it anyway… that’s real leadership.
Daniel: It’s also interesting how many of these women blend activism with community building. Take collectives like Discwoman or Sisu—they’re not just booking female DJs, they’re offering training, mentorship, and support. That creates a pipeline of talent that might not otherwise get a chance to shine.
Annabelle: Yes, and the ripple effect of that is huge. A young woman sees a DJ she admires, joins a workshop, learns to mix, gets her first gig—and suddenly she’s part of the scene. That’s how you shift the culture in a sustainable way. Not just by giving people a stage, but by helping them build the skills to stay on it.
Daniel: And beyond gender, a lot of these DJs are at the forefront of creating inclusive spaces in general. Clubs and festivals can be intimidating for marginalised groups, but when the person behind the decks is actively working to make it safer, you feel it in the energy of the room. It becomes a place where people can truly let go and be themselves.
Annabelle: That’s such an important point. I’ve been in crowds where the DJ set the tone not just musically, but socially—reminding people to respect each other, making sure security wasn’t harassing dancers, even stopping the music if someone in the crowd needed help. That’s a level of responsibility that often goes unacknowledged, but it makes a massive difference.
Daniel: And it’s worth saying—when these DJs take a stand, it doesn’t just change that one event. It influences the whole conversation in the industry. Promoters start thinking about their lineups differently, audiences start expecting more diversity, and younger artists see that you can stand for something and still succeed.
Annabelle: Exactly. And there’s also this cultural crossover that happens. Female DJs are increasingly visible in fashion, art, and media, which means their messages reach beyond the club. Peggy Gou’s collaborations with fashion brands, for example, aren’t just about clothes—they’re about representing a confident, global, independent artist image that resonates with young women everywhere.
Daniel: And that visibility matters. Because for every person who discovers a DJ through a Vogue spread or a documentary, that’s another potential fan stepping into the music world—and maybe another young girl thinking, “I could do that.” Representation isn’t just a buzzword—it’s a seed for the future of the culture.
Annabelle: And the beauty is that these women are rewriting the rules as they go. They’re showing that you can be political, glamorous, underground, commercial—whatever you want—and still be authentic. That variety sends a powerful message: there’s no one right way to be a female DJ.
Daniel: Which brings us back to the bigger picture—music as a driver for social change. When a female DJ steps on stage, especially in a place where women’s voices are often silenced, it’s more than just entertainment. It’s a statement. And every beat she drops carries that message further.
Annabelle: And that’s why I think the next generation will grow up with a completely different view of who belongs behind the decks. Thanks to these trailblazers, the idea of a woman controlling the room from the booth won’t be unusual—it’ll just be normal. And that’s the goal, isn’t it?
Daniel: It is. Normalising it so much that gender stops being the headline, and the music takes centre stage. But we’ll always remember that it took courage, persistence, and a lot of late nights to get here. And the women who made that journey possible deserve every bit of recognition they get.
Daniel: You know, Annabelle, one thing I’ve noticed is that some female DJs have this ability to step outside the music scene and still keep their artistic credibility. They’re not just behind the decks anymore—they’re in fashion campaigns, films, art projects, and somehow it all feels connected to their music.
Annabelle: Yes! And I think that’s partly because DJ culture itself has always had a strong visual and style element. Think about it—club flyers, rave fashion, album covers. DJs were never just heard, they were seen. And female DJs have taken that and turned it into a real crossover strength.
Daniel: Peggy Gou is a perfect example. She’s played the biggest stages in the world, but she’s also fronted campaigns for luxury brands, collaborated with streetwear labels, and even designed her own clothing line. And it doesn’t feel forced—it feels like a natural extension of her persona as an artist.
Annabelle: Right, because the style isn’t separate from the music. Her sets have that same mix of sophistication and playfulness as her wardrobe. It’s all one brand, but in the best sense—authentic and self-created. And that authenticity is what makes her appealing to both underground heads and mainstream audiences.
Daniel: And then there’s Honey Dijon, who’s basically a bridge between club culture and high fashion. She’s walked the runway, designed capsule collections, and been featured in major fashion magazines. But at the same time, she’s deeply respected in house music circles. That’s a rare balance to pull off.
Annabelle: Yes, and she uses that visibility to tell stories—about the roots of house music, about the Black and queer pioneers who built the scene. So when she’s at a fashion show or doing a shoot, it’s not just a surface-level thing—she’s bringing the culture with her, introducing it to new audiences who might never set foot in a club like Berghain or Smartbar.
Daniel: And speaking of Smartbar—there’s also The Blessed Madonna, who’s done everything from remixing pop superstars to starring in music documentaries. She’s been on billboards, in music videos, and yet she still plays these intimate, sweaty club sets like she always has. That duality keeps her grounded while expanding her reach.
Annabelle: And it’s not just fashion or media—it’s also how female DJs have influenced film and TV. You see characters in shows who clearly take cues from real-life DJs—style, attitude, even the way they command a room. Sometimes it’s subtle, sometimes it’s obvious, but you can trace it back to the way these women have made the DJ archetype more diverse and dynamic.
Daniel: Yeah, the old stereotype of the DJ was a guy in a hoodie staring at the decks. Now, thanks in part to female DJs, you have this much broader image—it can be high-energy, glamorous, mysterious, political, whatever fits the artist. That variety has made DJs in pop culture more interesting characters too.
Annabelle: And we can’t forget advertising. Brands have been using DJs to sell everything from headphones to luxury cars, and female DJs often bring a fresh angle. It’s not just about looking cool—it’s about embodying creativity, independence, and global appeal. And that’s marketing gold.
Daniel: True, but I think the real trick is knowing how to do those collaborations without losing your authenticity. Some DJs have managed to make commercials feel like art pieces—tying in their own music, visuals, and vibe—so it still feels like them, not just a paycheck.
Annabelle: Exactly. And in a way, those crossover moments feed back into the music. If someone discovers a DJ through a fashion ad or a Netflix soundtrack and then goes to see them live, that’s expanding the audience in a very real way. It’s a modern form of outreach.
Daniel: And you know what’s interesting? This crossover influence works in both directions. The club scene inspires fashion and media, and then fashion and media bring new aesthetics back into the clubs. It’s this constant exchange, and female DJs are right in the middle of it, steering the conversation.
Annabelle: Right. And because so many of them are multi-disciplinary—they might DJ, produce, design clothes, curate art shows—they’re natural connectors. They don’t see the boundaries between these worlds, so they just move freely through them. And the culture is richer for it.
Daniel: So in Part 1, we touched on fashion and visibility, but I think we should talk about how female DJs are crossing over into film, TV, and advertising—not just as faces, but as sonic architects.
Annabelle: Absolutely. One of the coolest things is seeing their music on soundtracks. It’s like a new layer of storytelling. A track that works on the dance floor takes on a totally different life when it’s underscoring a pivotal scene in a movie or series.
Daniel: And the placement can be huge for their careers. Think about Peggy Gou’s tracks appearing in Netflix series—it’s not just the exposure, it’s the association. Someone hears her music during a beautiful, emotional scene, and suddenly she’s part of that memory for them. It’s brand building without even trying.
Annabelle: Exactly. And Honey Dijon has done mixes and sound design for high-fashion runway shows that end up all over social media. It’s not just “play some tracks”—it’s crafting an atmosphere that matches a designer’s vision, sometimes even months before the event. That’s a level of trust in her artistry that goes beyond club bookings.
Daniel: It’s the same with Charlotte de Witte doing branded livestreams during lockdown. Those sets weren’t just about music—they were about creating a visual world, often tied to the sponsor’s aesthetic, but still feeling very “Charlotte.” That’s the balance—keeping your identity intact while fitting into a bigger project.
Annabelle: And that balance isn’t always easy. Some DJs turn down huge offers because the brand doesn’t align with their values. I’ve heard of artists rejecting six-figure deals simply because they didn’t believe in the product or the way it would look to their fans. That kind of decision can make or break long-term credibility.
Daniel: And it’s not just about values—it’s about creative control. If a brand wants to dictate the entire vibe of a set or soundtrack, that can be stifling. The most successful partnerships I’ve seen are the ones where the DJ is brought in as a creative collaborator, not just a background playlist.
Annabelle: That’s why so many female DJs who do these crossovers also produce their own music. When you have your own catalogue, you can license your tracks instead of relying on generic options. It’s not only more personal, it’s also more lucrative—owning the rights means you get paid every time it’s used.
Daniel: And producing also opens the door to scoring. Some DJs have moved into composing full soundtracks—bringing that club energy into a cinematic format. It’s a different discipline, but the instinct for pacing and atmosphere is the same. You’re just playing to a different kind of crowd.
Annabelle: Right, and it can work the other way too—film and TV exposure can boost a DJ’s live draw. Someone discovers them through a series soundtrack, checks out their music, and the next time they’re in town, they’re at the show. That’s how you build a fan base beyond the typical club circuit.
Daniel: And then there’s the ambassador role. Some female DJs are brand ambassadors for everything from headphones to eco-friendly initiatives. And when it’s done right, it feels authentic—like when a DJ known for vinyl culture partners with a turntable manufacturer, or someone passionate about sustainability works with a green energy festival.
Annabelle: Yes, but it can also be risky. If the partnership feels like a cash grab, fans notice. The trick is picking brands that match your actual lifestyle and values. That’s why someone like Peggy Gou working with Nike feels natural—she’s into streetwear and sneaker culture, so it’s believable. If she suddenly partnered with a luxury watch brand, it might feel off unless it connected to her personal story somehow.
Daniel: And then you have DJs doing crossover collaborations with other artists—like remixing pop or hip-hop tracks. That can be a way into a totally new audience, but it also means balancing club credibility with mainstream appeal. Not everyone pulls it off, but when it works, it’s magic.
Annabelle: Honey Dijon’s work with Beyoncé is a great example. She contributed remixes that stayed true to her house roots while still fitting perfectly into Beyoncé’s vision. That’s the sweet spot—keeping your DNA intact while serving the bigger project.
Daniel: And that’s the thing with crossover work—you have to treat it as an extension of your artistry, not a side hustle. If the music, the visuals, and the message still feel like you, the audience will come along for the ride. If it feels like you’re just wearing someone else’s costume, they won’t.
Annabelle: Exactly. The most successful female DJs in crossover spaces are the ones who see every project—whether it’s a film, an ad, or a fashion show—as another kind of stage. Different lights, different audience, same performer. That consistency is what builds long-term respect.
Daniel: So, we’ve looked at fashion, soundtracks, branding, collaborations… but what I find fascinating is how all of this feeds back into DJ culture itself. Because the moment a DJ breaks into mainstream visibility, it changes how both the industry and the audience see the booth.
Annabelle: Yes—and sometimes that change is immediate. A high-profile appearance in a film or an ad campaign can suddenly draw new crowds to clubs, including people who might never have gone to a house or techno night before. That can be a double-edged sword—more visibility, but also a risk of diluting the vibe if the new audience doesn’t understand the culture.
Daniel: True. And that’s why so many DJs are deliberate about how they handle crossover success. They might take on big projects but still keep one foot firmly in the underground—playing intimate gigs, releasing limited vinyl-only edits, or doing surprise sets at smaller venues to stay connected to their roots.
Annabelle: Exactly. It’s a balancing act. If you go too mainstream, some of your original fans might feel you’ve “sold out.” But if you avoid mainstream completely, you might miss opportunities to grow your influence and bring more people into the music. The best navigate both worlds intentionally, using mainstream moments to shine a light back on underground culture.
Daniel: Honey Dijon does that brilliantly. She’ll play a major fashion event in Paris one week, then a tiny, sweaty club in Chicago the next. And she talks openly about the history of house music at both. That’s how you make crossover work for you instead of the other way around.
Annabelle: Yes, and it also educates the audience. Someone might first hear her at a fashion show, but if she uses that platform to talk about the queer Black roots of house music, that listener leaves with more context. That’s culture preservation in real time.
Daniel: And I think that’s why female DJs have been especially effective in this space—they’ve often had to fight harder to be taken seriously, so they’re more protective of the culture. They don’t just want exposure, they want meaningful exposure that says something about the music and the people who built it.
Annabelle: Right. And there’s also the legacy question. Years from now, when people look back at this era, the DJs who crossed into pop culture without losing credibility will be seen as trailblazers—artists who expanded the definition of what a DJ could be while keeping the artistry intact.
Daniel: And that expansion has already shifted the industry. Ten or fifteen years ago, big brand campaigns rarely featured DJs—especially female DJs. Now, it’s not unusual to see them front and center in global advertising. That visibility changes the career possibilities for everyone coming up now.
Annabelle: And it’s also redefining what success looks like. It’s no longer just “number of gigs” or “festival headliner slots.” Success can be a residency at a club, a clothing collaboration, a soundtrack project, or even an art installation. Female DJs have been at the forefront of proving that a DJ career can be multidimensional.
Daniel: And the crossover influence works in subtle ways too. I’ve seen underground producers suddenly getting more streams because a famous DJ dropped one of their tracks during a televised or livestreamed set. That’s a direct line from mainstream exposure back to grassroots creators.
Annabelle: Yes! And that’s another reason why these women matter so much in pop culture—they act as cultural bridges. They’re not just representing themselves, they’re opening doors for others, bringing underground talent into spaces they might never reach otherwise.
Daniel: Of course, it’s not always smooth sailing. The more visible you are, the more scrutiny you get. Every set, every outfit, every word on social media gets dissected. For some, that pressure can be overwhelming—but others turn it into part of their art, almost like performance within performance.
Annabelle: True, and the best keep their authenticity at the core. If you know who you are and what you stand for, you can navigate those public moments without losing yourself. And that’s the difference between a short-lived trend and a lasting legacy.
Daniel: And honestly, I think the biggest cultural shift we’re seeing is that the “DJ” label itself is expanding. Female DJs have helped prove that you can be a DJ, a producer, a designer, a curator, an activist—all at the same time. And that combination is shaping how the next generation approaches their careers from day one.
Annabelle: Exactly. And maybe that’s the true legacy of these crossovers—not just the gigs or the magazine covers, but the permission they’ve given others to dream bigger. To see the DJ booth not as a limit, but as a launchpad into every creative field you can imagine.
Daniel: You know, Annabelle, looking back at everything we’ve covered, it’s pretty clear that today’s female DJ scene didn’t appear out of nowhere. It’s standing on decades of groundwork laid by women who fought for every slot on the lineup, every gig, every ounce of respect.
Annabelle: Absolutely. From Wanda Dee in the Bronx to Sharon White in New York, from Miss Djax in the Netherlands to K-Hand in Detroit—they were building the foundations long before social media and streaming made global recognition possible. And the new generation is carrying that legacy forward in exciting ways.
Daniel: Right—and you can feel those roots in the way modern stars approach their careers. Take Charlotte de Witte—her intense, driving techno sets are pure 21st-century energy, but you can still trace her sound back to the stripped-down, industrial grooves of the early European scene. It’s evolution, but it’s connected.
Annabelle: And Peggy Gou is another great example. She’s global in every sense—born in Korea, lived in London, based in Berlin—but her eclectic sets echo the genre-blending spirit of pioneers like The Blessed Madonna or Ellen Allien. She’s proof that the idea of “belonging” to just one scene is outdated. The modern female DJ can belong everywhere.
Daniel: And let’s not forget Amelie Lens. She’s taken the relentless energy of hard techno and packaged it for massive global audiences without watering it down. That balance—being both underground credible and festival-friendly—is exactly what so many earlier DJs worked towards but didn’t always get the chance to achieve on that scale.
Annabelle: Exactly. And the connection between generations isn’t just sonic—it’s also in the way they handle the business. Many of today’s female DJs own labels, run event brands, and mentor younger talent. That’s a direct inheritance from pioneers like Monika Kruse or Miss Djax, who showed that control over your own career is the ultimate power move.
Daniel: And that legacy isn’t limited to dance floors. These women have shaped the culture of festivals, the way lineups are built, even how clubs think about safety and inclusivity. It’s a different world now compared to the 80s or 90s, and female DJs have been a huge part of that shift.
Annabelle: True—and you can see the difference in the audience too. At big festivals now, you’ll see girls right up front, not just in the crowd but watching the booth closely, studying the moves, maybe imagining themselves there one day. That representation is priceless because it plants the seed for the next wave.
Daniel: And it’s not just festivals—look at online culture. Livestreams during lockdown brought DJs into living rooms all over the world. For some younger fans, their first experience of a female DJ wasn’t in a club, it was on Twitch or YouTube. That accessibility has accelerated the pace of influence dramatically.
Annabelle: Exactly. And that influence isn’t passive—it’s interactive. People can comment live, send requests, share clips. That kind of instant feedback loop didn’t exist before, and it’s giving female DJs more ways to connect with their audience, build loyal communities, and bypass traditional gatekeepers entirely.
Daniel: And what’s exciting is that we’re seeing more diversity in the scene than ever—different nationalities, different cultural backgrounds, different sounds. It’s not just Europe and North America anymore. Female DJs from South America, Africa, and Asia are gaining international traction, and they’re bringing fresh influences with them.
Annabelle: Right—and that globalisation of sound is another part of the legacy. Early pioneers were often isolated in their own scenes, trading tapes and records by mail. Now, a track can drop in Johannesburg and be in a Berlin set the next night. The connectivity is incredible, and female DJs are right at the forefront of that exchange.
Daniel: So the question is—where does it go from here? If the last 30 years took us from the back rooms of underground clubs to global festival headliners, what’s the next leap? More technology? More cross-disciplinary art? Or maybe something we can’t even see coming yet?
Annabelle: Probably all of the above. But I think one constant will be the role of female DJs as innovators. They’ve always been early adopters of tech, from embracing CDJs to using livestream platforms. I wouldn’t be surprised if the next revolution comes from a woman experimenting with AI-driven mixing or immersive VR club experiences.
Daniel: And whatever the tech is, it’ll still come down to connection. You can have the most advanced setup in the world, but the magic is still in the human choices—the timing, the flow, the way a DJ reads the room. That’s the part no algorithm can replace, and the part these women have mastered over decades.
Annabelle: Exactly. The legacy isn’t just the sound, it’s the approach—the courage to try new things, to cross boundaries, to claim space. And if the next generation keeps that spirit alive, the future of DJ culture is going to be even more exciting than the past.
Daniel: So here we are, Annabelle—the end of the journey for this episode. We’ve traced the path from hidden backrooms and pirate radio towers to the main stages of the biggest festivals on the planet. But now I’m wondering—what does the next 10, 20 years actually look like for female DJs?
Annabelle: I think the keyword is expansion. We’re going to see more female DJs headlining, yes, but also more of them in positions of influence—running festivals, owning tech companies, designing the gear we’ll all be using. The booth will still be central, but the impact will stretch way beyond it.
Daniel: And I think we’ll see more hybrid performances—DJs merging with live musicians, visuals, immersive environments. Imagine walking into a set that feels like stepping into another world, where the sound, lights, and even scents are all part of the story. Female DJs have always been innovators; they’ll push those boundaries even further.
Annabelle: Yes, and technology is going to play a huge role. AI-assisted track selection, real-time remixing, VR concerts—you name it. But I think women will lead in making sure tech enhances the human side rather than replacing it. That emotional intelligence behind the decks is something no machine can fake.
Daniel: I also see the global map shifting. We’ll see more headliners coming out of scenes in Africa, South America, and Asia, bringing completely new rhythms and cultural perspectives into the mix. And because streaming has made music discovery borderless, those artists can blow up worldwide without leaving their home countries—until they want to tour, of course.
Annabelle: And that diversity will make the sound richer than ever. No more single “default” style dominating. We’ll have parallel scenes influencing each other, and female DJs will be crucial connectors—curating collaborations that cross continents and genres in ways we’ve never seen before.
Daniel: And there’s the social side too. I think the next couple of decades will finally break the last of the “token female” mentality. We’re getting closer to the point where it’s normal—completely unremarkable—to have multiple women on the same lineup without anyone even mentioning gender. That’s the kind of equality that sticks.
Annabelle: Exactly. And when that happens, the focus shifts fully back to the music. But we’ll still honour the pioneers, because without them, that level playing field wouldn’t exist. They fought the battles so the next generation could focus on pure artistry.
Daniel: Speaking of artistry—what excites me most is imagining the kinds of sets we haven’t even conceived yet. Someone’s out there right now, in their bedroom, experimenting with sounds and techniques that will feel revolutionary in five years. And I’d bet good money some of the most game-changing ideas will come from women breaking into the scene for the first time.
Annabelle: And I hope they know they’re not alone. The path has been cleared in so many ways, and there’s a global network ready to support them—festivals with equal booking policies, collectives offering mentorship, audiences hungry for fresh perspectives. It’s a better environment than ever to take that leap.
Daniel: And to anyone listening who’s been inspired by this episode—whether you’re already mixing or just thinking about it—remember: every DJ we’ve talked about started somewhere. Bedroom, basement, pirate station, tiny bar gig. The important thing is to start, to keep going, and to make it yours.
Annabelle: Exactly. And don’t let anyone tell you what you should or shouldn’t play, how you should look, or how you should present yourself. The beauty of DJ culture is that it thrives on individuality. The crowd wants *you*, not a copy of someone else.
Daniel: So where does that leave us? With a scene that’s more vibrant, diverse, and creative than ever before—and with the promise that the best is still to come. The decks are open, the audience is waiting, and the future is wide open for those ready to step into it.
Annabelle: And I think that’s the perfect note to end on. Because this isn’t just a history—it’s an invitation. To dance, to create, to connect. Whether you’re in the booth or on the floor, you’re part of the story now.
Daniel: So thank you for joining us on this journey through the world of female DJs—from the pioneers to the powerhouses, from the underground to the main stage. We’ve loved every beat of it.
Annabelle: Until next time, keep your ears open, your mind curious, and your heart in the music. And if you ever find yourself in front of a set of decks… well, you know what to do. Goodnight, and keep dancing.