Brazilian DJ and artist Bárbara Boeing stops by at Jaeger for an interview before she joins Toy Tonics in the booth
Bàrbara Boeing is cut from a rare cloth. She’s a selector in the truest sense of the term. It’s exclusively through her distinctive taste, that she presents a collection of music to the dance floor. With sets that thrive in that Balearic and Italo sonic aesthetic permeating with Latin touches, Bàrbara Boeing has carved a niche for herself. One which sees her travelling the world on her skills as a DJ alone.
Bàrbara was raised in Curitiba in southern Brazil where she cut her teeth early on as a DJ, playing exotic imports from Europe. Alongside Phil Mill and De Sena, she set up Alter Disco, an event series and collective catering to her own tastes, and bringing kindred selector spirits to her hometown.
After moving to Milan a few years back, she continued that connection with her hometown, with the odd Alter Disco while at the same time breaking out into new territory, like her Convida (Invites) event series and channeling her love for music into production.
It’s particularly Toy Tonics that has facilitated this last part. Tapping into the label’s endless pool of musical talent, Bàrbara realised her sonic visions, working with artists like Sam Ruffillo on the production. Two records in and Bárbara has already cemented something of her own style in the label. It’s a sound built on the foundations of modern House, fusing elements from Bàrbara’s vast musical touchstones into something that stands out in the label’s catalogue. Silky eighties synthesisers wash over everything with Latin percussive touches bouncing through tracks like Brasiliana and Pantelleria
She had been no complete stranger to music production coming into her first solo efforts, frequently editing obtuse Disco tracks into DJ friendly arrangements, but now with her first two original EPs in the bag, it only just seemed to scratch a latent creative itch for her. Adopting the Alter Disco alias, she’s also just released a remix project on soundwave, remixing six tracks from Marco Bosco’s Metalmadeira II.
“He is a pioneer of electronic music in Brazil,” says Bàrbara over a telephone call from Montreal. Having “transformed his music into something that could be played on any dance floor,” Bàrbara didn’t lose sight of the textures that made the original so alien in the first place and what we have is a record that intrigues as much as it pulses with the rhythm of a dance floor.
Bàrbara is currently in the midst of a North American stint of a tour that will eventually land her back home in Curitiba, and with a visit to Jaeger looming for our next Toy Tonics takeover, we called her up to find out more about this enigmatic DJ and producer.
Will you be doing an Alter Disco while you’re back in Curitiba?
No, We just did two Alter Discos the last time I was back, which was two months ago. I’ll be playing at other peoples’ places this time.
Since you’re based in Milan, how often can you do these Alter Discos?
Since I moved to Europe, 4-5 years ago, we’ve only been doing one Alter Disco a year, but this year we did it in Sao Paulo and Curitiba. It’s not so easy.
You haven’t done one in Europe yet?
No, because I do have a party I do alone, which is Convida, and that I can do wherever I go. Alter Disco is with my friends and that doesn’t make much sense to do it alone.
Tell me about Curitiba in terms of the music. Is there something distinctive there with the music scene?
We have almost 2 million people, so it’s not that small, but considering all of Brazil, it’s kind of small. There are not so many big parties and only a few clubs and the clubs aren’t exactly doing the music I love. So that was the idea with Alter Disco; to bring some artists that will never play there. It brings something new to the city.
We’ve been doing these parties for 13 years now, and still we’re bringing new people to the city. There are more than one or two extra collectives that do a bit of what we do. It’s not as though the scene has developed so much in 13 years.
If we’re talking about the clubs that aren’t doing the kind of music that you love, what kind of music is that?
There is always this looping of the same artists that only play there. It’s maybe a bit more mainstream Tech House or Deep House. This would be the kind of music that would be playing anywhere; in the clubs and other places.
I imagine Alter Disco is a world away from that kind of sound. Is it very much an extension of the kind of stuff you would play?
For sure. We’ve had people like The Basement Soundsystem, Move D, Palms Trax and Fettburger. We’ve had some really nice artists, which has a bit of what I play and something I really love.
When you were based in Curitiba was there a place you could pick records from those artists you mentioned?
In Brazil – if you’re not buying Brazilian records, which can be cheap – it’s much more expensive. So what I used to do, was try and find the digital version, even if it was a vinyl-only release. I used to trade music, and when I couldn’t find a record I’d just email the record label. Sometimes they would just send me the track. If you want to play this kind of stuff in Brazil, you need to find your own way.
So when you’re on tour, like you are now, or based back in Milan, are you buying more records regularly?
Every time I travel I go into record stores, but the problem is the 10kg bag. I can’t bring so many. I’m doing a radio show in New York, so I brought 20 records. It’s nice, since I can do a vinyl only show, but now I can’t buy any more, because my bag is already full.
I’ve read somewhere that it took a while to appreciate music from Brazil, but lately you’ve been playing more of it. Is that right?
My connection with Brazilian music only grew from when I was around 24. It took me a while, because when you’re young and don’t have that much knowledge of Brazilian music, the music you’ll hear would be from the radio. So, until I researched it a bit more, it felt a bit tacky. I would think that music that came from outside of Brazil was really cool, and at one point you understand that’s not true. It took me a while to explore that in a more grown-up way.
Since playing internationally, do you feel that you have more of an obligation to play not only just Brazilian music, but Latin-American music as a whole?
There are moments when I play some places where I understand that people want something more Latin, and I thought that perhaps I should bring them more of that. But at some point I realised that I need to bring people the music that I listen to and that I love at that moment. I live in Italy now, and in Italy there is a lot of really good music. In a way my selections have been more European and much more Italian. It needs to be mirrored in what I’m enjoying at that moment.
I wanted to ask about the Italo Disco elements, because I do hear it in your music, but there’s another thing there too. There’s a very Balearic touch to your sound, as something that can’t be exactly pinned down and covers many genres but has a distinct sound. What is the common denominator there and what do you look for in the records you buy as a DJ?
When I go into a record shop, people always ask what do you like, and I say I like good music. It can be literally anything. That makes my search more difficult. It’s a bit more open.
About that balearic thing; there’s something around that music which always feeds my soul. I do love this balearic feeling. There is this emotion inside of it, it’s not necessarily bumpy, but it’s something that you feel so much. In the end that’s what music should bring to us.
If you were left on your own in a record store, is there a section in the record to which you usually gravitate to first?
Nowadays I play in places where I’m usually the headliner or I’m playing at peak time. Unfortunately I can’t play that much balearic because I need to keep the BPM higher. I usually try to find some edits today, because I love older music, but at the same time it needs to sound good on the dance floor. I try to find Disco and House edits. When I go to a record shop, I start there.
I know you make your own edits too. What would qualify a track for your edit treatment?
The edits are very amateur and it’s something I’ve done all my life. It’s something that I do just to be able to play that track on a dance floor. If I don’t edit it, it’s almost impossible to mix, because the tempo would be wrong. They’re usually old tracks that were done without a metronome. The interesting part is that I will play a track that almost no-one would play. They come from my records.
Can you give me a recent example of a track that you turned into an edit?
Yes, Eva Eva Eva – Do. It’s an Italian Disco track, which is almost unmixable because the tempo is completely wrong.
Are you naturally drawn to those eighties synthetic sounds from the likes of these kinds of tracks?
Yes. Anything from the late seventies to the early nineties, that’s where almost all of my music comes from.
Would you ever pick up a modern House track, even if it’s not to play?
Yes, I think there are interesting things out there. I’m much more interested in when things change, though. When genres are born as things go one way to another. That’s where people start to do something new out of nothing. There’s no copy and paste.
We talked about edits now, but you’ve also started putting out originals mostly through Toy Tonics. Is this something that was born out of the edits?
This is almost like another door that has opened for me. All my life I’ve been a selector, I just bought records and that’s it.
These last two records I’ve worked with other people, and they are really good musicians. I’ve listened to so many tracks and I have so many tracks in my head, and in this way I can create something new.
It’s not the most instinctive thing for me. I only play instruments at an amateur level, so I always need somebody to help me with the ideas. It’s still something super new inside of music for me. It’s completely different than just selecting records and playing, but I’m really enjoying it and I want to do more
Listening to the two Toy Tonics records, there’s definitely a relationship to the music you play. Do you take a lot from the records you play in terms of trying to recreate a mood or a sound?
100% I might have an idea when I listen to something from my collection and then later I’ll try to understand why I enjoy this and what’s interesting about it. I might pick out a bass-line and start a new track by recreating something that I’ve heard, not as a copy but as my interpretation of the same thing.
The two records Brasiliana and Memoir, was there anything different between those two records in terms of creating them?
Yes, they have a couple years in between them. On the second one I enjoyed the fact that I was able to use my voice on Pantelleria which is my favourite track. The first one I did with Sam Ruffilo, who’s a complete musician. He can really play anything. The way I started a track was mainly the same, but we had different people involved.
Thank you for talking to us Bárbara. Before you go, I know it’s a bit early to know what you’ll be packing for Jaeger, but do you have some vague outline based on what you’ve been playing recently?
I usually do different sets in different places, so it’s a bit hard to know what I’m gonna play, but if it’s going to be cold, I would bring the warmest music. (laughs)
How has it informed your work beyond the DJ booth and in the studio?
What do you remember of the nights at Space @ Bar Rumba?
How did you and Honey start working together?
You mentioned, Garage was big when you were teenagers. Is that around the same time you started to make music?
James doesn’t feel queer is a “sexual statement,” but rather an ideology. “I know cis straight woman who identify as queer,” he says as an example. For James, queer is about a “rejection of patriarchy” and a the celebration of “alternative lifestyles” on dance floors. “As long as they bring love and joy to the dance, then everybody is welcome,” insists James. Even though the party they “do in New York is a different crowd to the one in London and the one in Berlin is different to both of those,” that queer element remains at its core and James “love
Tell me about WINDOWS. Is it an album and/or a live show?
Ida and Naomi both grew up in what they consider a “small town” called Sandefjord. Both had taken an early interest in music albeit from different points of view. While Ida was “drawn into singing very early,” Naomi was an avid listener, consuming all she can from Beyonce to Dimmu Borgir. At around the age of 11 Naomi’s dad built her a dance studio in the basement with “some cheap speakers and different kinds of disco lights” encouraging the impressionable youth towards electronic dance music. She would be “dancing like a crazy person to Benny Benassi” in her basement enclave she remembers fondly today. 
You’re talking about the early nineties?
Igjen, sinnsykt takknemlig og ydmyk for å ha vært så privilligert til å få gjøre dette så lenge. Takkskarruha! 
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Wilkes
13 years is still a long time for a club night, especially at that time, when everybody was going from one thing to the next quite quickly. How did you maintain that excitement around it for so long?
You got pigeonholed as a DJ, somewhat unfairly, in that Deep House trend after “Your Everything.” What effect did it have on what you would do next and how did you eventually sidestep it as a DJ?
Who is that?
Lars grew up in the
At 13 he had heard his first DJ playing Disco records consecutively, and by 15 he went to his first club and bought “Ten Percent“ on Salsoul. The speaker hanging out the window soon developed into a party in his apartment, and requests to play at other people’s house parties followed as he became a local mobile Disco music of some repute. “I just loved the music, it was just everything for me,” he remembers. At 18 he had made something of a career out of it, playing mostly commercial music, before somebody dropped “a stack of what they called Loft records” at his feet. “I was like ‘Whoa, what is this sound?’” It was a selection of expensive, limited press- and imported records, the kind of which they had been playing not only at the Loft, but also Paradise Garage. Although Morales had not yet been to either club, since they were strictly private clubs, he started making inroads as a dancer frequenting venues like Paradise Garage and the Loft through acquaintances with memberships, and eventually befriending people like Mancusso and DJ Kenny Carpenter. It was through Carpenter that he was inducted into a record pool, the first organisations that supplied DJs with new, unreleased music for the club, and it was through this pool that he would have his first major break as DJ.
The first release on the label came via KiNK, with the aptly titled “Home,” and in that record we find similarities to KiNK’s music from “Under Destruction” as tracks play on similar rhythmic and melodic themes, distilled down from traditional music, with titles like The Clock and The Grid redefining the concepts contained in their titles for western ears. Accompanying the release and future releases from a small, but dedicated community of artists, are a series of photos – most of which taken on phone – from Bulgarian DJ legend DJ Valentine. Alongside the music it consolidates a label that for the first time will distill some of that Bulgarian traditions into a contemporary platform.
They had known they “had something by the first record” , the rather wordy “some, but not all Cheese comes from the moon.” That record, released on Planet Noise in 2004 had put Ost & Kjex on the map in Norway, but it was when they “sent the first tracks to Crosstown Rebels and they called back” they had something special according to Petter. “When Crosstown Rebels called up, we knew the outside world was listening” reiterates Tore and by the time of Cajun Lunch their sound was truly established. 
Do you remember a specific moment or track that inspired you to first mix two songs together?
Tell me about going to the Loft.
Did he just play on Blå’s soundsystem?
Did you ever talk to him about the peak era of the Loft?
She gives my a side glance before answering; “Obviously there is a correlation… do I need to follow that…. A bit if I want to, but not really.” It’s understandable why she won’t acquiesce to the archetypes that dominate DJ culture today. As she insists, she 
That was my introduction to Jaeger’s “Diskon sound” as I came to know it and throughout my tenure here, the sound system kept growing, shrinking and moving in a constant evolution that owner and resident Ola Smith-Simonsen (Olanskii) still refers to as a ”work in progress.” It’s been in a constant state of flux that has taken a life of its own as the venue, the DJs and the audience kept changing around it and as it kept retreating further into the structural makeup of the room and the dance floor it’s allure is indistinguishable between these elements. And as Ola starts talking about the next phase of the system and the recently-installed bass traps settle into the walls, it’s an evolution in sound that refuses to come to any natural conclusion. 
“It’s like money,” collates Rosner in a RBMA lecture; ”you can never have too much because you know you can give some of it away. Loudspeakers can never be too big, because you can always turn the volume down.” In one of Rosner and Mancuso’s crowning achievements at the Loft their combined efforts resulted in creating a tweeter-array system that helped spread those higher sonic frequencies more evenly and further across the room, so that even the person sitting in the back could hear every element in the music rather than just the bass frequencies, which naturally has the longest reach. Even though Rosner didn’t initially agree with Mancuso’s tweeter array idea, he soon came around when he discerned ”the more you have up there the better.” It’s a sonic philosophy that’s still noticeably adopted today when you see towers of horns jutting out high above the DJ somewhere like stalagmites on a cave wall, but while it’s certainly helpful having all that sound on tap, it’s pretty pointless if it’s not pointed in the right direction.
It was Alex Rosner that introduced Long to this world, as a kind of fixer for his sound systems and it would be Rosner that would also inadvertently put him into business. In “Last night a DJ saved my life,” Francis Grasso described an incident where Rosner sent Long out on a job, and Long usurped his boss by outbidding him on the same job as an independent contractor. Rosner remembers it differently in the RBMA documentary. According to Rosner, John Addison (Studio 54) had phoned Rosner up in the middle of the night to ask about doing some work for him. Rosner swiftly hung up on Addison, noting the lateness of the call in what I assume was short conversation littered with expletives. Addison in all his ‘70s cocaine-fuelled cock-sured fury was not a person you would hang the receiver up on likely and put his next call in to Rosner’s budding apprentice effectively putting Richard Long and associates into business.
“Drugs, nothing more,” says Tornike, but “when they raided the club, no-one was arrested for dealing drugs and they couldn’t find any drug dealers inside the club, only finding 2 or 3 grams” on individuals. The club owners were arrested too, without a warrant on some overblown claims of obstruction, which never resulted in any charges brought forward, but what happened directly after the raid, was a force of solidarity in a clubbing community that we haven’t seen since the time of the criminal justice and public order act. People like Tornike, who had started gathering outside Bassiani as the police were carting off their friends and colleagues, were protesting the arrests. “We were trying to figure out what was happening,” explains Tornike who “didn’t even know which Police station they took them to” at the time.
In the month of October, DJ Lekkerman hands over the reigns of his weekly residency to a couple of stalwarts on Den Gyldne Sprekk roster, and two DJs and music enthusiasts that know the concept inside out. Beastie Joyce and Jørgen Egeland host another month of Den Gyldne Sprekk at Jaeger with a series of concepts that go from another KIZZ pøb to the blood-curdling sounds of Memphis Rap for Halloween as the pair resurrect their Funk Boys alias to invite a host of kindred spirits to the lineup for October. 
KIZZ PØB returns! What is it about the band in your opinion that continues to draw old and new fans to their music?
How did you feel your set at Jaeger went?
Do you consider yourself a veteran of the scene in that respect?
The music you guys make on Rebound to me sounds like its all built on a foundation of House, but there’s also that frosty Norwegian sonic element in there. What conscious steps do you take in creating that sound?
I spoke to Carl Craig recently and he told me that DJing was the day job to afford the passion of making music. But I have a sneaking suspicion that’s the other way around for you, that DJing is the true passion?
I think it would’ve been that way. I know DJs who just don’t have the attention span to make music. Some guys from Detroit I would really like to see out here, more. They are excellent DJs, but just don’t get the opportunity because they don’t have the patience to sit around and programme music. 
Jann Dahle started making music in 1992 in Tromsø when he moved there to study law. It was a fortuitous time to be making music in Tromsø as the critical point for a burgeoning Disco and House scene that would eventually spread around the globe. “I met Rune (Linbæk), Bjørn (Torske) and Kolbjørn (Lyslo aka Doc L Junior) and I started professionally DJing back then,” remembers Dahle. “There was a lot of buzz about Norwegian Disco at that moment, because of Bjørn,” but Tromsø being a small city, Dahle “got to know everybody” involved in music and landed a job at Brygge Radio alongside Bjørn, Rune, and Geir Jenssen (aka Biosphere).
When and how did Techno exactly come into your life and what drew you to the genre?
What do you look for in a Techno track to make it into your sets?
Channeling that experience of touring and playing live into this record, Dave Harrington Group favour an uninhibited approach on “Pure Imagination, No Country” as they capture that raw intensity and power of a live band in the studio. Nick Murphy emphasises this energy through post production, which on their previous LP, favoured a slicker, more refined approach. Dave Harrington’s guitar takes more of a central role on the LP, where it appears mostly unprocessed in its natural state taking the stage front and centre in the production across the album.
Working with TB Arthur and people like BMG, do you think It’s changed the way you make music?
Like every DJ out there today you have an agent that takes care of your bookings, but do you have the final say where you’ll play?
Why these particular remix artists?
I’ve read that your philosophy is about exporting the Black Motion, and in extension the South African sound to the wider world.
“It’s really simple,” he explains. Some of his “family lives in Hamburg” and he would often visit them there. He became familiar with the label through the music of Kasper Bjørke and sent them the demo for “To Grieve”. Two weeks later HFN answered “yes, it’s cool, we want to release it,” but y then the idea of an album had started to take shape, and Karol would only give them the single if they released the album. The acquiesced and “Truth” was born.
The idea of dugnadsånden is also how Ra-Shidi had her start as a DJ. “I just went up to the manager at Circa and asked if I could play there, and he just said, ‘yeah sure’.” Unfortunately, Circa is coming to an end in two months, and Ra-Shidi is hoping Storgata Camping will carry the beacon for the clubbing community, with more reserved bookings but with a bigger impact to attract the larger audience to fill the dance floor.
