Bianca Oblivion

Thanks for having me! I’m all about a good show, and right now I’m hooked on Severance, which I've been following since season one. I’m a casual TikTok scroller, mainly for food recommendations, recipes, a good storytime, and for this one beauty influencer, Nina Pool — she's super charming and genuine. I can't get fully on board with TikTok, there are too many users trying to sell me stuff. It feels more like swiping through infomercials than actually enjoying content.
I definitely need to read more books, but the one I picked up was First Floor Volume 1: Reflections on Electronic Music Culture by Shawn Reynaldo. It’s a collection of essays from his weekly First Floor Substack, which I’m a dedicated reader of.

​​Each track on Net Work incorporates elements of the music I’ve been producing over the years while also exploring new directions. The influences and sounds in these tracks have been a part of my DJ sets since started, but this is the first time many of them have made their way into my production. For example, I’ve wanted to create a track like Teazerz for years, an homage to 90s LA hard house. I remember about seven years ago, I had a clear vision of how I wanted it to sound and feel, but I knew I wasn’t ready to fully execute it at the time. With each new release, especially Net Work, it feels like my catalogue is becoming more and more reflective of the range of my DJ sets.

When it comes to production, my main goal is to create tracks that come alive in the club. I might draw inspiration from a specific style or genre and incorporate elements or rhythmic patterns from that, then mix in bits from another. It all depends on what the track needs. If the elements aren’t vibing together, I’ll switch it up.
At the end of the day, the boundaries between music and sounds are artificially constructed, so if I find two sonic elements from different eras, cultures, or regions of the world that work together, I’ll keep developing them until I create a cohesive club track.

My DJ experience has been crucial to my production process. When I first started using Ableton, it was to make edits and mashups of tracks for my sets. Over time, I moved into more complex bootlegs and official remixes for other artists. Throughout my development, the driving question behind my production has always been, how will this fit in my DJ sets? How would someone dance to this? I’m constantly visualising how a track will play out in different scenarios. Once I reach a certain point with a track and feel confident enough to play it live, I get real-time feedback and can see what worked and what didn’t. From there, I go back to the studio and adjust elements as needed.
When I’m working on a new production, I think about the tracks by other artists that I love and play out in my sets. I revisit those tracks and ask myself, what is it about this song that I love? What are the core elements or feelings I’m connecting with, and how can I incorporate those into my own work? I learn so much from reverse engineering songs, it’s something I did when I first started producing and still do when I’m experimenting with a new style or genre.

It’s truly a privilege to be invited to different countries and play music for people. Sometimes, when we're grinding away, focused on advancing our careers, we can lose sight of that. Every time I visit a new city or country, I really try to take it all in, even if I’m only there for a night. I connect with other DJs, learn about their scenes, listen to local music in taxis, and pay attention to what people play in the streets and shops. Touring has been a huge part of my growth as both a DJ and a producer, whenever I return to certain cities or countries and incorporate music from there, the crowds are always so energised and excited. I think they really appreciate when someone from outside their culture takes the time to learn about and celebrate it.
If I’m lucky enough to spend a few days in a city, I’ll set up sessions with local producers, and those experiences are always special. It’s during these sessions that I can dive deeper into the culture of the places I’m visiting and understand how DJs and producers incorporate elements of their culture into dance music. We exchange music, samples, and share experiences, and from those sessions, I walk away with a fresh perspective on DJing and production, along with new friendships.

I really love working with artists in person because there’s so much that happens in the studio that goes beyond the mechanics of production, things you miss when working remotely. You spend hours together, joking, snacking, talking shit, and all of that adds to the project. Sometimes, you come up with an idea on the spot that wouldn’t have happened if you were just sending project files back and forth. I learn so much from working with other producers in person, from technical knowledge and workflow to how they organise their samples and the little hacks they use. The most exciting part for me is seeing how both of your styles come together to create something new, hearing what each of you contributed, and how those elements work together.

Before I started working on Net Work, I had this idea that my first EP had to be a fully thought-out concept, something that tied each song together and established my sound. I wanted it to be a definitive statement. While I do think Net Work reflects who I am as an artist, I didn’t start with a fully developed concept or vision for it. When working on singles, you’re mainly focused on that one song, and it can be completely different from your last or next single. There’s a lot of freedom in that, which is what I love about releasing singles — taking risks, experimenting with different sounds, and collaborating with various labels.
I originally pitched Scat Track as a single for Luckyme, and when they signed it, they asked if I wanted to release it as part of a full EP. At that point, I wasn’t sure what I wanted the other songs to sound like, but I knew who I wanted to work with. From there, I approached each track as its own project while still considering how they all fit together. I’d constantly reference the other EP songs, thinking about how they would sound in a set or streamed one after the other. Even though each track has a distinct sonic identity and genre, I think they all exist within the same dance music sphere.
Sam Binga and I had started a few tracks together that were contenders for the EP, but they didn’t quite feel like the right fit. When we started Hypnø, I knew that was going to be the one. As a multigenre artist, I’m always asking myself which direction I want to take a project in. With Net Work, I was able to explore many different directions while maintaining certain elements across the tracks to keep a cohesive sound. In the future, I’ll definitely release more focused projects that lean into a particular sound or genre, but for my first EP, I’m really glad I was able to showcase the breadth of my production.

I began producing in 2016 after DJing for many years. At first, I was experimenting with basic edits and bootlegs. It took me years to truly learn the process and develop the technical skills needed to make full tracks on my own. I moved on to official remixes, however, it wasn’t a consistent process. I’d start and stop, work on a remix, then not open Ableton for months. I wasn’t fully dedicated to it at first. I felt intimidated and didn’t think I had the skills to make original tracks. Coming from the DJ world, you have an expectation for the tracks you play, and if your own work doesn’t meet that standard, it can be frustrating. At least, that’s how it was for me.
It wasn’t until 2019 that I finally pushed myself to produce an original song. I told myself, Just make one song — if you never make another one, if you never release it, just finish it. That song was Bumbum Pra Cá, which I ended up releasing in 2020. About two weeks after it came out, Covid hit and we went into lockdown. That’s when I really threw myself fully into production and started releasing on other labels. Since then, with each project, I’ve learned more and pushed myself to try new skills and techniques. From releasing my first single in 2020 to now, five years later with my first EP, I’ve come a long way both in terms of sound and skill. I’m glad I waited until I was able to create something that matched the caliber of production, creativity, and dancefloor energy I admire in other artists' work.

While I’m always on the lookout for new scenes and emerging producers worldwide, for me, it’s not necessarily about what's trending. I might come across a genre or sound that’s been around for years, get really into it, and start incorporating it into my sets or productions. With how music is consumed and shared, the tracks I’m playing or producing at any given time might be part of a wave or trend, but that’s not my main focus. Sometimes, I’ll find a 128kbps YouTube rip that I’ve held onto for over a decade and draw inspiration from that.
When you’re constantly exposed to music in clubs, online, or out in the world, certain sounds or songs stick with you subconsciously. When I plan a set or start a new track, I tap into that. For me, whenever I’m creating a song, I think about how it would work in one of my sets and how the crowd might react in a specific setting. Is this a track I’d play in a dark, sweaty warehouse or at a tropical beach party? How would people dance to it? If I can’t visualise how the song would play out in the real world, then I know I need to switch things up or move on to a new idea.

UK club music has deep roots in Jamaican soundsystem culture, and it’s that raw energy and reverence for the low end that has carried through into all the genres that evolved from it. That’s what I’m most drawn to. While you may not hear it in my sets right now, I’ve always loved the punk, post-punk, and ska music that came out of the UK in the 70s and 80s, and I would play those records when I first started DJing.
But really, I don’t see UK and US club music as entirely separate worlds, both are rooted in the Afro-diaspora, and they've influenced each other over the decades. The Amen break was the backbone of 90s American rap as well as UK jungle, and both genres centred around the MC. UK garage evolved from US house music, which later gave rise to grime, funky, and so on. I also appreciate that, generally, people in the UK tend to have a deeper knowledge of electronic music and genres, whereas in the US, it’s much harder to find anything outside of commercially driven top 40 tracks on the radio or in your average bar or club.

Social media and streaming have definitely changed the landscape for DJs and producers. In the past, if you wanted to build a career as a DJ, you had to work your way up from local bars and small clubs to larger venues. Eventually, if you made a name for yourself, you’d get booked out of town and start touring other cities. This would take years, and there were far fewer DJs who built full-time careers from it. These days, you could start DJing one month, stream a set online the next, go viral, and book a world tour soon after, all within a year, becoming a full-time DJ almost overnight. I’m not saying one path is better or worse, each has its pros and cons, which is a much larger discussion, but I will say that a career that’s built so quickly runs the risk of not being sustainable.
For producers, there’s also much more pressure to create content around the music they make, whether it’s showing their production process or staging skits to promote their releases. Some artists are great at this, and it helps boost their careers. But for those who simply want to focus on making music and getting it out there, social media can become stressful and overwhelming. When it comes to streaming, producers earn very little income, so they have to rely on social media to promote their tracks, encourage people to buy them, or get booked by promoters. Overall, there’s a lot of pressure on both DJs and producers to stay on top of social media and always be on in order to have a successful career.

The visual aspect of all my releases is always a major consideration. I went to a high school known for its art program, where I was fully immersed in drawing, painting, and photography. I've always continued creating art in some form, and although I’ve channeled that energy into music rather than visual art, I still put a lot of thought and time into how my releases look. The artwork can really elevate a release, I’m sure most people can think of album art that holds some personal significance for them.
For Net Work, I wanted to capture a retro-futuristic aesthetic, embracing current digital technology while referencing its origins. I had this idea of a digital network, represented by a circuit board, and an analog network, like network television or a network of connected devices. Ross Aitken, the graphic designer, executed my vision beautifully, both with the static artwork and the visualiser. He also created the artwork for the ‘Til Tomorrow single, which featured a shattered disco ball in the shape of a heart, an idea from Machinedrum. I really value the collaboration process with designers. I get deeply involved and work closely with them, going back and forth to land on the final image. While we’re on the topic of visuals, I have a music video for Teazerz coming out soon, so keep an eye out for that!

All the songs on Net Work were made for the club, so ultimately, I hope people are hearing them and dancing in some way, even if it’s just at home. Beyond that, there’s a dynamic intensity to the EP. The first three tracks carry this tension and darker mood, which is then released in a euphoric (but still intense) way with the final track, ‘Til Tomorrow. Even though each song has its own distinct sound, to me, they all play off each other in some way. Within each track, there’s a balance between darker, more serious elements like a dramatic synth or bassline, and more playful touches, like a vocal phrase or chop.

I’ve been working in music for so long, and for the majority of that time, it’s just been me playing the music I love and throwing parties for my friends and community. After all these years, my sound has become an extension of who I am, and if you have a strong sense of self, you naturally develop a strong sense of your sound.
A lot of people in the industry can get overwhelmed when they try to change who they are or mould their music to fit what others want or what they think will sell. I’m not passing judgment— everyone has their own reasons and motivations for how they navigate the industry, and that might work for some. But for me, that’s not why I got into music.
As I’ve progressed in my career and built a team, I’ve been fortunate to find people who support me and share my vision, rather than trying to change me or push me to work in ways that don’t align with who I am as both an artist and a person. I know that’s not always the case for artists with their agents or managers. I feel really lucky to work with people I know have my back and with whom I can be completely honest and open.

The more I travel and perform in different countries, getting booked at prestigious venues and festivals, it really hits me that I might be the first, or one of the few, artists there with my background or who comes from the same place as me. It really puts things into perspective. When I’m playing a festival in the middle of Germany or in the British countryside, I often think: Could I be the only woman of Latin American descent, from Los Angeles, performing here? The answer is most likely yes. But it’s not only when I’m abroad that I reflect on this, these questions come up even when I’m playing a major event in my own city. How many of the headliners look like me? Simply existing in these spaces and representing my community makes an impact.
So many women of colour have approached me at shows or messaged me to say that they look up to me and that I’ve inspired their journey as a DJ. I can’t express how much that means to me, and I take it to heart. That being said, I see that as the bare minimum. I’m always looking for ways to give back, whether it’s booking and throwing events that feature up-and-coming talent from the community, hosting production or DJ workshops, or just supporting and amplifying the incredible community of femme, queer, and POC artists around the world.

I’d want them to know that whatever they’re hearing whether it’s a live set, a mix, or one of my songs, it’s a snapshot of who I am at that moment. It reflects how I was feeling or my creative process at that moment, but it’s just one part of a much larger picture. My sets are never the same, and my productions are always shifting and evolving, but each one adds another layer to my story. My hope is that people connect with that moment and continue the journey with me, because I’ll always take them somewhere new.