"I'm finally living in the face of adversity, and it feels sweet." - Octo Octa, DJ and Producer

"The world at large is a punishing space at the moment, but I feel that it doesn’t have to be. Wanting to see what happens next keeps me going."

Performing can be exhausting at times, because music moves me deeply. I am a firm proponent of the power of dance and movement. It’s body-engaging, soul healing, and for me at least, life affirming. A couple years ago I shook off the mental shackles of doing things that are expected and of selecting tracks that may ‘impress’ someone. Whether I play live or I’m DJing, I’m only performing or selecting music that I like, and everything that I play and produce is for me. And these songs that are for me I like to play for other people because I know how they’ve healed me, so hopefully they’ll heal others too.

Nonetheless, I always have some degree of nervousness whenever I play. I’ve been playing music in front of people for the majority of my life and that anxious feeling hasn’t gone away. I’m not always freaking out about playing (though there are the occasional gigs that really get me worried), but I always get nervous right before because this all matters to me so much. It’s good to care about what you’re doing, and nervousness seems to kind of walk hand in hand with those feelings. I want everything to go right, because when it does there are few feelings that compare.

My first ever European gig was at Panorama Bar in Berlin, which is a wonderful room and crowd, but by no means is it an easy space to play in. I’ve played there a lot, and I work when I’m in that space. I’ve had the highest highs and lowest lows in that room! It can feel like a sacred space or a judgement box; depends on how you approach it. That all said, I’ve had plenty of unwelcoming situations while touring. Bad booths, bad speakers, angry crowds, sexual harassment, homophobia, transphobia, nearly impossible situations to play vinyl in (I’m a vinyl DJ). Being a performer is a crap-shoot at times, and unless you’ve played somewhere before it can be nearly impossible to know what to expect. But I always try to do my best no matter what the environment is. Having a prejudiced attitude toward a space before playing will just result in you having a bad time because you’re expecting a bad time.

Aside from touring, every day spent dealing with society is difficult. I am a happier and healthier person now that I live my life my way, but there is a lot of pain in this fight through life. My transition was very public because I’m a musician who still had music coming out, things I was working on, and art to create. Honestly, it’s not an ideal atmosphere to come out in. Lots of people close to you carry history of who they thought you were and it can be hard for them to let that go. I lost family, I lost friends, then add in a Public that can insert whatever thoughts they have about you on top of it and it’s poisonous.

My difficulties in life are because of society’s perception of me, not my own. I’m happy; I love my body, I love my soul, I love my partners. It’s the world at large that tries to make me second guess those beliefs, and honestly there are times when I let them trick me into not feeling like myself. But overall, I’m finally living in the face of adversity and it tastes sweet. I wrote a new album which like all the music I’ve made, comes from my lived experiences in the world. I’m currently in a personal space where I feel good and I see good things happening around me because of love, magic, embodiment, and healing. The album has a lot to do with direct messaging (something I strive for when playing DJ sets). I speak to the spirits, I speak to the goddess, I speak to my lovers, and I speak to my people. We are here to realize ourselves, to survive, to fall in love, and take what’s ours.

There are lots of specific life events that go into the songs on the album, but maybe the overall theme that ties them together is a deep engagement with magic and an acknowledgement of the rituals I was conducting throughout my entire life, especially with music. Using music as a healing technology. I believe deeply in the power of dance, and I know how important it is to engage with your body in that heightened state however you can. The album itself is very dancefloor-focused for that reason. I feel joy and want to convey that.

My partner Eris feels like the first person I knew that was able to articulate what I found so important in dance music - dance music is healing, and we use it to realize ourselves and each other. A dancefloor (not necessarily meaning “a club”) was a space where I was finally able to explore my body in public. I would hear universal tones and patterns, sampled phrases becoming mantras, rallying cries for love and oneness. I could dance like the person I am and be myself. Be the femme that I couldn’t be at work at the time. I heard freedom, and I discovered a way I could express myself through art. I make music that has a deep emotional core. I want every song to mean something. It has to speak for me or about my life experiences. Eris and I both see and hear that in this music. Recently, she moved in to my place that I share with our partner, Brooke; so we have a sweet homestead that now gets even more record packages than before!

I really have no choice but to be resilient. I’m a queer transgender polyamorous witch. I don't care what anyone says, this world does not want me here. My existence is barely tolerated and definitely not accepted. On top of that I think a majority of the people who aren’t queer and/or trans have wild misconceptions of what my life is and what my goals are. Why I am the person I am. Straight people love to tell me how they are an accepting person because of some queer person in their life. I hear them talk about this queer person and just know they don’t understand them either.

I’ve had to build tools to become a resilient person. I also had my lucky break in the industry years ago and got a chance to live off my art. For many trans folx it can be a much harder road dealing with their work environment. To be out and living can be a difficult daily experience. This world at large is a punishing space at the moment, but I feel that it doesn’t have to be. Radical queerness keeps me motivated. Seeing and hearing friends’ and lovers’ goals for the future keeps me motivated. Wanting to see what happens next keeps me going, as does working on music and being in clubs. It’s what my soul desires. That, and kissing my loves while dancing in the sun and under the moon.

This article was originally featured in Issue 2 of Ash Magazine.

Octo Octa (@octoocta) was interviewed by Charlotte Ruth (@charberto).

Listen to and buy Octo Octa’s music at her Bandcamp.

Image by Charles Ludeke.