London-based producer and DJ NLI has been quietly carving out her place in the scene. Known for what she calls Fractal Techno, her sound balances complexity and emotion, translating the patterns of nature into rhythm and texture. After years of building her identity through self-released tracks and warehouse sets, she now arrives with Initiation, her debut album and the most complete portrait of who she is as an artist.
The record feels like a reflection of everything she’s lived and learnt. It’s both hard and delicate, confident and vulnerable, moving between the fierce pulse of Riot and Burnout and the tenderness of Girlhood, written in memory of her grandfather. “What my grandfather did for science, I hope to do with my music,” she says, connecting two worlds that share the same curiosity and discipline. Each track seems to push her further toward honesty, turning personal experience into something universal.
When we spoke, NLI talked about Initiation as a reminder that independence doesn’t have to mean isolation. “It’s been truly liberating to just write the music I really want to without worrying that it’s too leftfield or unusual for a specific label,” she explained.
Hello NLI, How are you feeling today? Where are you joining us from?
I’m very well, thank you. Currently at home in my tiny London flat!
Your debut album, Initiation, lands on November 6; it’s so close now. What emotions are you sitting with as the countdown gets shorter each day?
It’s super exciting, and I cannot wait to share Initiation with the world.
You’ve described Initiation as your sonic autobiography. When you step back and listen to the full thirteen-track journey, what story do you feel it tells about you that a single track could never show?
I feel that this album enables me to finally connect to my listeners on a more personal level and share the most intimate and vulnerable sides of myself, which is something that’s very important to me as an artist. I’m the kind of person who sometimes struggles to open up and express how I feel using words; I’m more comfortable doing so through my music.
The title piece, Initiation, dives into your first steps in the London rave scene: the excitement, but also the pushback you faced. Was revisiting that chapter while making the track more cathartic, or did it stir up some old feelings?
It was a mix of both. On the one hand, it did bring up past memories and reminded me of the pain I went through at the time, but on the other hand, it’s also a testament to my own resilience and ability to successfully overcome difficult moments.
Riot and Burnout speak to frustration with industry pressures and the toll of constant visibility. Did shaping those tracks feel like a way of reclaiming your own voice?
In some ways, yes, but for me it was more about challenging the perception of what it means to be a public figure. I’m sure that all of us who work in this industry are grateful to see our work appreciated by so many, but rarely do artists actually speak out about the price that we pay for it with our mental health and well-being. I do feel that this is an issue that isn’t really talked about in the way that it should be.
There’s also a much gentler moment in Girlhood, written after your grandfather passed. How did you find the courage to fold such a personal memory into an otherwise fierce, club-driven record?
No one believed in me more than my grandfather did; he was my rock, my safe space, and my best friend. I’ve drawn a lot of inspiration from him, not only on a personal level but also on a professional level. He was a rocket scientist and a visionary; every bit of research he did and every patent that he wrote ensured a better future for mankind. What my grandfather did for science, I hope to do with my music. It’s my way of paying my respects to him and his life’s work.
Songs like Manor, WTF and Anthropomorphism feel like little portals into different parts of your world. Which one surprised you the most in the studio?
Definitely WTF. I sampled my best friend’s voice for this track, and processing that sample meant hearing it on repeat over and over again. That sample never stops being funny to us; if you know you know. It was a really fun track to make, and it also became a very personal track to our friend group. We still lose it every time we hear it being mixed in at a rave! It brings back so many beautiful memories we shared together.
You’ll be celebrating the album with an Adhesive showcase at E1 on November 7. What kind of atmosphere are you hoping to create that night?
Adhesive’s first label showcase will also be the first-ever demonstration of our Golem City concept, which is a simulated dystopian society and home for the Adhesive community. I’ve always been fascinated by simulation theory; I envisioned building an actual techno society built upon the moral, ethical and intellectual values of the rave scene and bringing it to life with my music and my label. This idea started taking physical form in the digital realm, and eventually, Golem City was born.
We got Rebel Overlay’s Spencer and Dan Heron on board for E1 in November, who are known for their incredible production design and installations that they created for Printworks and Terminal V. They will be bringing the architecture and atmosphere of Golem City to life with custom audio-visuals and stage installations; it will be something that’s really fresh and cool.
We got Rebel Overlay’s Spencer and Dan Heron on board for E1 in November, who are known for their incredible production design and installations that they created for Printworks and Terminal V. They will be bringing the architecture and atmosphere of Golem City to life with custom audio-visuals and stage installations; it will be something that’s really fresh and cool.
This year, you also played at MASS London and the Hostile Takeover Indoor Festival, alongside TNT and NEEK. What stuck with you from those stages that you’re carrying into this new chapter of live shows?
As an artist who was nurtured and supported by members of the underground community in the early stages of my career, I will always carry the feeling of knowing I belong somewhere and always have a familiar group of people to come home to, which is a great comfort when I find myself stressed, sleep-deprived or under pressure now that I’m starting a new chapter in my career. I’ve been really lucky with the people I have around me; they’ve been with me from day one and continue to be my biggest supporters.
You trained as a classical pianist for nearly two decades before diving into techno. Do you still feel that discipline and sense of storytelling guiding you when you’re behind the decks or in the studio?
Absolutely, I view CDJs as an instrument, and the music that I play to my listeners is how I interpret it as a musician. The same goes for Ableton; every track I make not only has to make sense from a musical perspective but also from a social one; I think the music industry and music production in particular are very polluted with arrogance, and many producers seem to have no interest in putting in the work and perfecting their craft. I think my classical training taught me that being the best at what you do should never be the goal, but that your approach to it should be better than everyone else’s.
Was there a single turning point when you realised you were leaving the classical path behind for good, or was it more of a slow drift into the underground scene?
I’m quite an extreme person, and when I’ve made up my mind about something, I will never go back on my decision. As much as I love the piano, I always felt like a bit of an outsider; not necessarily from a musical perspective, but more on a cultural level. Discovering the underground felt like I had finally found a place where both myself and my music were appreciated and understood.
Adhesive isn’t just a label but a home for uncompromising sounds and ideas. How did shaping a space for others feed back into the way you approached Initiation?
In every way possible: musically, creatively, intellectually and everything in between! In fact, this album would probably have sounded very different without the artists that I met before launching Adhesive. I actually ended up signing quite a few of them. It’s been really interesting to see how we have shaped each other over time and how our sound has evolved. For me personally, these encounters have made me a better musician, producer, and artist overall.
Your Deconstruct Reality Project launches this winter, and it feels deeply connected to your activism for marginalised voices. What’s the very first step you’d like to take with it, and how does it tie in with the themes behind the album?
We aim to make it as easily digestible and accessible for as many as possible, which means that we will be using our social media platforms a lot. Our primary aim is to encourage conversation and offer an educational techno platform to the underground community, making marginalised voices heard and sharing interesting ideas. We will highlight issues in the music industry as well, such as sexism and the objectification of female artists. We recently filmed a visualiser for my track Riot, which is about exactly that, and my Instagram DMs were flooded with people sharing their own stories. This experience only reinforced the fact that this is an issue that needs to be addressed.
You’ve often chosen to stand your ground, even if it meant saying no to certain opportunities. Has that ever felt like a lonely stance to take, or has it become a source of strength for you?
It’s been a bit of both, particularly in the beginning. It may seem strange to say it out loud, but refusing to compromise on your integrity as an emerging or young artist is a bit like being the new kid at school; being the outsider often puts you in the line of fire of bullies and mean kids, while others are too scared to say anything about it because they know that they could be next. I would say that I value integrity over everything else, which is why I would never have done it any differently. I would also say that herd mentality is very prevalent in the rave scene. Eventually, someone will say something when things get too out of order, and then others will naturally follow. Trusting this process in the past really helped me when everything felt quite grim.
When you’re about to step into a packed club for a high-BPM set, do you have any small rituals or habits that help you switch gears and centre yourself?
Aside from the more standard practices on ‘playday’, as we call it in my team, such as obsessively re-checking my USBs (I always carry five with me to work), I completely abstain from alcohol and sex 24 hours prior to a gig. I also fast before and during shows. I usually stop eating around lunchtime the day before. My team normally comes over to my house or hotel room in the morning (or the night before if it’s a bigger gig), so it’s really decompressing to have everyone around doing their stuff while I’m getting ready. I also always make sure to call my grandmother when I start doing my stage makeup; she loves hard techno and Sara Landry!
You’re rooted in London’s underground but clearly looking outward. Which emerging artists or local scenes are inspiring you right now?
I’m really impressed by what the underground experimental and post-club community in London is doing right now. Everyone here knows how incredibly challenging it is to be a musician in the UK at the moment, and their community has really come together in support of artists. I really like the latest releases by London-based label Childsplay and the work of Maniken05 and Ninajirachi in particular. I think that underground techno in London is currently torn between several different directions; a lot has changed within the scene over the past few years, and many local artists here feel quite anxious about what to do next. At the same time, I think this uncertainty is paving the way for new ideas and concepts that will definitely mature over time and create an interesting new sound in the near future.
Lastly, when people reach the end of Initiation, what do you hope stays with them?
I do hope that the listeners will be able to feel and hear a bit of themselves in the album and relate my stories to their own. As introspective as these tracks may be to me from my own personal perspective, they transcend me as an artist because my music explores themes that are relevant to us all.
