The Shortlist: Black Girl / White Girl
Published by whynow.co.uk, July 2021
DJ and producer duo Black Girl / White Girl are one such example, and while it would be easy for comparative underachievers to deeply resent them for the fact, after an hour-long conversation over Zoom, in which they’re beamed into my living room from their current base in Tel Aviv, it becomes clear that that’s just not going to be possible. These two are great company, totally switched on, and frankly, as cool as cucumbers, so of course they took lockdown in their stride — that’s always been their approach to everything.
“We’d wake up, have breakfast, go to the gym, come home and make music until about 6pm,” explains Ty, one half of the duo, blonde curls bundled up on top of her head. “We were on autopilot so we kept that routine up for most of 2020.”
“We already had enough music to go,” adds Karin. “So we continued to produce but since we didn’t know what was going to happen next we set aside time to take care of ourselves as well. We found ways to relax and to see what life could bring.”
Along with a deeper connection to nature and a more resonant meditation practice, that time away from clubs ironically resulted in some of the pair’s most immersive club tunes yet. They released ELEV8 on Eats Everything and Andres Campo’s label, EI8HT, last July, and it was incredibly well received — if not, as many producers can attest to, unfortunately ill timed in the midst of a pandemic. “If there was a world out there for this EP to live in: clubs, festivals,” says Ty, “it would have been totally different for us career-wise.”
Unperturbed, they went on to self-release ‘101010101’, which became their biggest track to date but resulted in its own set of lessons. “That tune was the catalyst for people reaching out to us,” Ty continues. “It was weird and unexpected but it also opened our eyes to what was needed for the outside world to consider us relevant. You have to have millions of plays on Spotify; have your face plastered everywhere. And we thought that’s nice but this isn’t something we’re going to continue because it’s not what we want. We don’t want to be that type of artist.”
This is a refreshing approach in today’s dance music scene and that speaks volumes, but for Ty and Karin, it was merely the logical next step on the path to blossoming into the artists they’ve always wanted to be. “In the beginning, our sound was classified as tech house but we didn’t feel like we fit that mould,” Ty recalls. “So we spent some time figuring out why we didn’t feel comfortable in that genre and what that meant for our music. We stripped everything and went back to basics, trying to understand what about music makes us excited. We felt that we were confined in a space that we didn’t want to be in so we removed that pressure from us.”
“We could have chosen the easy route — copy what everybody else is doing to fit in,” adds Karin, purple bucket hat skimming the top of her eyes. “But that’s not what we wanted. We made the shift because we knew we’d be happier in the end and it would be worth it.”
It’s a gamble that undeniably paid off and can be heard palpably on HALLUCIN8, their latest EP release on EI8HT, out this week. A collection of four laser-precision techno tracks that showcase a more distinct, minimal edge, it irreversibly lays down the blueprint for the future Black Girl / White Girl sound. “The first two are tracks we made this year and the other two were from last year, and you can hear the difference between the beginning of 2020 and the beginning of 2021,” explains Ty. “They’re faster, there are less elements and percussion is the driving force.” It’s already caught the attention of Ben Sims, who’s invited the pair to join him at ADE, Covid-dependent. “To be able to come back to that would be mind-blowing,” smiles Karin. “This is exactly where we wanted to go.”
In some respects, playing a gig at ADE will bring the pair full circle: it was at the same event in 2012 that they met, simultaneously becoming a couple and deciding to embark on a joint music career. Prior to 2019, living and working together wasn’t really a topic they discussed, but much in the same way as their sound began to take shape that year, so too did their desire to disclose more personal matters.
“We had a realisation that subconsciously we hadn’t spoken about it because we were so focused on the music,” says Ty. “But then we thought maybe we should talk about it because it can be an inspiration to others, or helpful in some way.” It’s an act of visibility that paves the way for dialogue about the importance of clubbing in forging identities and providing safe spaces for the queer community, something they were both privy to growing up — Ty in Amsterdam and Karin in Tel Aviv. “Looking back on the parties that we used to go to, you see the power and the joy,” smiles Karin. “It’s about having fun and being who you are and speaking out.”
The erasure of these spaces during the pandemic has been particularly problematic for the queer community. “For a lot of queer people, dance music provides a place where they can fully be themselves without being afraid of people judging them, or just having to remove a part of themselves that they wouldn’t feel comfortable showing in daily life,” muses Ty. “The fact that this hasn’t been possible in the past year, it’s caused a lot of isolation. I feel like there’s a part of the world that just went black. For queer people even more so, because it’s one of the few places that we can fully be free, meet up with friends and our community and offer support for each other.”
As events start to return and our calendars become peppered with parties, many featuring exactly the same one dimensional lineups that came before Covid, it’s more important than ever to ensure that dance music is reflective of real life and takes the lead when it comes to diversity. “It’s a job for everyone working in the industry to ensure that spaces become more inclusive,” states Karin.
“It’s an awareness you have to have yourself about putting more queer artists, people of colour and minorities on your lineups. To put more of these artists on your label. To write more about them in your magazine. To give more of a platform and to not forget that music came from queers, Black people, and trans people. They created it. Show respect and show support.”
Ty nods along in agreement. “People need to put more effort into making these things happen,” she adds. “And they shouldn’t be afraid to speak out. I feel like a lot of big artists are avoiding the issue. If you have a platform you have nothing to lose, only to gain.”
Both are quick to admit that change takes time, but judging on past form, that won’t zap their energy too much. These continue to broach this issue with the same singularity they applied to lockdown, quietly chipping away until it feels like they’ve made an impact. “Music is very powerful and can be a real catalyst for change, but not by itself. It has to be as part of a more expansive system that makes the music world more accessible to everybody,” concludes Ty. “Perhaps if we all put the effort in, we might be able to make it happen just that little bit faster.”
