RA Podcast

Club futurism and a stack of new material from one of São Paulo's boldest shapeshifters.

BADSISTA doesn't do stasis. In fact, he prefers to be in a constant state of motion. It was immediately obvious when the São Paulo artist broke out with his 2016 self-titled EP, in which a bass-heavy melange of baile funk, dembow and trap demonstrated an ability to satiate almost any dance floor.

But BADSISTA continued to evolve through the different moods and textures of the club: from experimental compositions with Brazilian trans icon Linn Da Quebrada to ballroom bass and heads-down funk shellers for TraTraTrax.

This RA Podcast finds BADSISTA in a fluid place once more. The mood starts out slow and moody—one of a slew of unreleased BADSISTA tracks—before seamlessly morphing into the soul-stirring synthwork of Al Lover Meets Cairo Liberation Front. Then he gets playful: tasteful, techy house morphs into smutty baile funk. (And as for the guests, look out for Sully's "XT" and a spicy Batu rework.)

BADSISTA's style is connected by a uniquely Latin sense of rhythm and groove. Here, dramatic synths build up to even more dramatic funk crescendos. Perreo rattles appear in and out of the mix, as if acting as a reminder for people to move. But really, above all, this mix radiates with aliveness.

When you whittle it down to the bare essentials, all that matters is the joy and connectivity you feel within yourself and the world around you. BADSISTA is an excellent facilitator, and you'll hear as much on RA.991.

@badsista

Find the tracklist and interview at ra.co/podcast/986

"I'm an individualist." The Throbbing Gristle co-founder on extreme experimentation, difficult women and her new album, 2t2.

As long as underground culture has existed, there have been pockets of resistance—people at the fringes who challenge societal expectations and create work that pushes against societal norms. Cosey Fanni Tutti is one of them. She's a founding member of the defunct British band Throbbing Gristle, a visual artist, pornographic model, solo musician and writer.

Tutti, now 73, grew up in the English city of Hull, where she met like-minded performer Genesis P-Orridge. Together, they formed Throbbing Gristle and the collective COUM. Their activations and installations were, unequivocally, shocking. In one show, Tutti urinated on the audience as she swung naked across the stage. In another, the band performed alongside framed displays of her used menstrual pads.

Throbbing Gristle's extreme experimentations flirted with the erotic and the grotesque, pushing the limits of sound and frequency. Their outsider approach to making music—and their erasure of the boundary that separates life and art—went on to influence a generation of creatives across genres, especially in early techno.

After Throbbing Gristle disbanded, Tutti performed as synth pop duo Chris & Cosey with her husband and ex-band member, Chris Carter. Her work as a solo artist has blossomed in recent years. She published her memoir, Art Sex Music, in 2017. After turning 66, she also wrote two full-length albums and wrote another book, Re:Sisters, which explores the life and legacy of the late composer Delia Derbyshire who faced adversity as a woman in a male-dominated world, like Tutti herself.

In this Exchange with with Chloe Lula, Tutti discusses her dedication to living alternatively, expressing herself by any means possible and her forthcoming album, 2t2, composed during a time of extreme difficulty in her personal life. The underground icon also talks about mastering Mongolian throat singing and her upcoming solo art exhibition in New York, which will display the pornographic photos she took as a model in her 20s. Listen to the episode in full.

One hour of resolutely DIY club workouts, from one of the West Coast's most exciting producers.

If you've been in the club recently, chances are you've heard the work of Julian Edwards, AKA bastiengoat. Maybe it was the standout 2022 track "Tell Me If You Like It," which blends jungle breaks with a slinky sample from Cassie's R&B anthem "Me & U" to create a 130 banger perfect for modern dance floors. The Oakland-based producer has become a go-to name for party cuts that bounce, favoured by the likes of Bianca Oblivion and fellow Bay Area artist—and frequent back-to-back partner—Bored Lord.

Born and raised in the Bay Area, Edwards is deeply connected to Oakland's underground rave scene. Reflecting on his early experiences, he explained how the region's unique blend of crowds—from "raw hardcore sound to hyphy house parties"—and legacy of DIY warehouse raves has always shaped his music.

While gentrification in the region has limited opportunities to throw parties in those spaces, Edwards, as part of the label and collective NO BIAS, is carrying that torch for a new generation, pushing jungle, UK garage and all manner of US club variety while maintaining a strong DIY ethos. As dance music grows increasingly global and commercial, Edwards and co offer a refreshing antidote.

A prolific producer, Edwards is hard to pin down musically. He can apply his distinctive touch to virtually any genre. Take "Slander," where he blends hardcore and electro with Jersey club. Or "at em" a collision of 2-step, bassline and furious breaks. At the core of his work is a transatlantic bass connection, much like fellow West Coast star Introspekt. Both have a serious knack for fusing intricate rhythms with the kind of deep, murky bass weight synonymous with so much UK dance music.

For RA.990, Edwards jumps between genres with flex and ease—one moment it's grime-like basslines evoking "Pulse X," then aqueous, melancholic club, before twisting into fast and furious breaks. Rough, ready, and rowdy, it’s music that’s equal parts technical showcase and peak-time firework display.

@bastiengoat

Find the interview and tracklist at ra.co/podcast/990

"My mission is to explore the boundaries of psychedelic music." The revered techno artist talks about expanding consciousness, breaking the rules and his new album on Tresor.

There has always been a strain of dance music that has leant psychedelic, from the leftfield psychoacoustics of pioneers like La Monte Young to the proggy techno taking over today's dance floors. One artist who embodies the spirit of psychedelia is Anthony Child, AKA Surgeon, a revered DJ and producer who has historically been placed in the world of industrial techno, but whose output over the years has consistently flirted with altered states of consciousness and a strong opposition to the mainstream.

Child is originally from Birmingham, where he and Karl O'Connor, AKA Regis, helped birth a style of powerful, loop-driven techno. Together, they're British Murder Boys and have released music on O'Connor's seminal label Downwards. But they've also ploughed successful solo careers, with Child putting out several releases on Tresor and performing live improvised electronics as Surgeon and as part of ambient listening duo The Transcendence Orchestra.

In this interview, Child talks about his most recent release on Tresor, the album Shell~Wave, and its innovative use of techniques associated with Jamaican dub. He also discusses the through line of psychedelia in his work and what it means to surrender oneself to sometimes uncomfortable processes—both creatively and in life—and come out the other side. There are strong links to spirituality and Buddhism in Child's work, many of which are designed to prompt listeners to question and reconsider the boundaries they've set around the reality they live in. Listen to the episode in full. -Chloe Lula

Three hours of high drama, recorded live at Nowadays in New York.

We know what you're thinking: why did it take so long to get Binh on the RA Podcast? There's no easy answer, especially given that he's been a favourite of ours for over a decade now. So to make up for lost time, the revered digger lands on the series with a tantalising three-hour mix, recorded live at Nowadays in New York earlier this year.

Crammed with rare and unreleased gems spanning house, techno, and electro, RA.989 is heavy on drama, catching the Düsseldorf native in unbridled performance mode.

This is Binh in 2025. But rewind across the past two decades and you'll find a DJ who excels in pretty much any situation, whether warming up for Zip or Margaret Dygas, going back-to-back with masters like Nicolas Lutz or rolling out solo sets that stretch across ten or even 12 hours.

He's acted out all these scenarios most often at Berlin institution Club der Visionaere, the cosy canalside club that became a kind-of spiritual home. (He'd sometimes spend every night of the week there, before parenting duties got the better of him.)

To play for half a day you need a lot of records, and the backbone of Binh's craft has long been a freakish passion for vinyl. Along with Lutz, Vera, and others in CDV's orbit, he approaches the pursuit of wax, new and old, with next-level dedication and a fondness for blind buys.

That's true of RA.989, although among the un-Shazamables are many tracks that are either out or coming out on Binh's popular Time Passages label. The mix finds him on a house-y tip, luxuriating in roomy basslines, driving 303s and twinkly melodies—with just the right amount of evil. Lock in and savour a one-of-a-kind DJ, completely in the zone.

@binh

Find the interview at ra.co/podcast/989

"Music kept me sane." The hard techno artist opens up about how life's greatest challenges have made her headstrong.

To honour Mental Health Awareness week, the RA Exchange sits down with hard techno DJ Lee Ann Roberts, who opens up about her tough childhood in Durban, South Africa, and how music saved her life.

While to some it may appear that Roberts broke through only a few years ago, she's been hard at work for much longer, starting out in South Africa's fashion scene before moving to Los Angeles and finally committing herself to pursuing a career as a DJ and producer. She speaks candidly about her abusive household and the limited opportunities for self-expression and creativity she had as a child. As a result, she's become headstrong; nothing has stopped Roberts from being herself and chasing her dreams, and she talks about how self-care, self-compassion, authenticity and a sense of humour have gotten her through some of the darkest periods of her life.

As a member of the contemporary hard techno scene, Roberts also shares her reaction to the recent Resident Advisor feature on the movement and the underpinnings of a trend that has polarised the underground. Listen to the episode in full. -Chloe Lula

A clinic in minimal from the elusive Acting Press boss.

Why do certain sounds cultivate a cult following? Simply put, it's often because they resist easy consumption. PLO Man and his imprint Acting Press lean into this.

Searching for the Berlin-based DJ and producer, you won’t find much online presence, interviews or conventional PR. What you will find, if you look hard enough, is a catalogue of records and mixes with a kind of tape hiss charm (a spiritual successor to Basic Channel and Chain Reaction, but scuzzier and lighter on its feet).

Founded in 2015, Acting Press once seemed to belong to the short-lived "outsider house" trend, but is now synonymous with a certain strain of modern minimal, one that is analogue, spacious and pointedly opaque. PLO Man's output is equally sparse by design: this week, he joins the RA Podcast with a characteristically elusive style, accompanying the near two-hour mix is a one-answer Q&A that gives almost nothing away.

Stripped-back, ever-so-slightly sleazy and coated in dust, PLO Man's RA Podcast continues that lineage in style. Opening with the featherlight microhouse of Margaret Dygas, RA.988 unfolds into a carefully curated spectrum of minimal, dub and deep techno. Among familiar names—look out for the blinding Rhythm & Sound and Moodymann blend—are deep cuts and left turns alongside the odd outlier, like lovers' rock pioneer Gregory Isaacs.

Like the best of his forebears, PLO Man wants RA.988 to take time for you to settle in. But once you do, you won’t want to leave.

@p_el_oh

Find the tracklist and interview at ra.co/podcast/988

"Everyone tells me I'm terrifying." The powerhouse agent talks about being a woman in a male-dominated world and growing the careers of artists like David Guetta, Marlon Hoffstadt and more.

What does it take to become a powerhouse agent in the male-dominated electronic music industry? No one can answer this question better than Maria May, a name that might be familiar to anyone who's had a brush with big-ticket dance music over the past 30 years.

May is a longtime agent at CAA, or Creative Artists Agency, one of the largest booking agencies in the world. She was first hired a little over a decade ago to expand its representation of electronic music, back when the company saw that DJs were primed to become the new rockstars. She now looks after major acts like David Guetta, Paul Kalkbrenner, Marlon Hoffstadt and Sara Landry.

But she isn't just a fierce businesswoman. She's also a tireless advocate for equity and inclusion in club culture. In this conversation recorded live at the International Music Summit in Ibiza, she talks about the obstacles she's faced over the course of her career as she's actively rebuilt the rooms in which major decisions are made. She was first inspired by her involvement in Britain's illegal rave scene, she recalls, which turned her onto the power of activism and showed her how on-the-ground organising can lead to real-life policy change. She also addresses the negative narrative taking hold of the music industry and the opportunities at hand to make positive, collective change. Listen to the episode in full. -Chloe Lula

Kinetic club energy generated by one of the sharpest talents in drum & bass and beyond.

Much of the best electronic music rests along the axes of versatility and curiosity: being able to a pull a broad array of influences into your orbit and alchemise it into something distinctive and fresh. That's gyrofield to a tee.

Kiana Li began making waves in drum & bass as a teenager, years before setting foot in a club or experiencing the sound on a proper rig. That's a key factor which helps explain how the deeply-considered, Hong Kong-born producer arrived at a style that eludes easy description. Li, one of the foremost trans women working in drum & bass today, marshals complex rhythms like a sluice and has a knack for detailed bass programming that floods the stereo field without ever dominating it.

2024's spellbinding These Heavens was the apotheosis of an already quietly prolific catalogue; we named it the seventh best record of last year, but in truth, it could have actually nudged up a bit higher.

Li's RA Podcast is a blur of rapid motion, featuring stalwarts (Dillinja, Skee Mask, Calibre, upsammy, Marcus Intalex), contemporary limelights (Nestax, Ehua, Aquarian, Maude Vôs), 17 of their own productions and a grip of truly uncommon selections, like Burnt Friedman & João Pais Filipe's "18-140." It's an ambitious mix from one of the most exciting talents at the vanguard of outer-zonal club music right now.

@gyrofieldmusic

Find the tracklist and interview at ra.co/podcast/987

"It was so difficult to become someone." The house hero talks about Chicago's competitive scene, developing a sound and letting go of his ego.

Theo Parrish is one of dance music's most influential DJs and producers. Raised in Chicago, he's become synonymous with slow-burning, immersive grooves and sets that mix classics with obscurities. He began DJing in 1986 aged 13, eventually earning a degree in sculpture and moving to Detroit, where he hit his stride as an artist and became a member of the collective Three Chairs alongside Moodymann, Rick Wilhite and Marcellus Pittman. He also started the label Sound Signature, which uses the language of soul, jazz, disco, Chicago house and Detroit techno.

A few months ago, Resident Advisor teamed up with London institution fabric to host Parrish for an eight-hour set—his first time playing the club. While he was in town, he also spoke with CDR's Tony Nwachukwu. In the Exchange, Parrish talks about the intensely competitive scene he grew up in. He DJ'd for 13 years before he was ever paid or had his name billed on a lineup. It took years of passion and hard work to break out of his local scene and build the career he's become known for.

"At five years, you're dealing with the technical part [of DJing], at ten it's finding your sound and at 15 it's dealing with the ego of it all," he says. "It's not until much later that you actually start to play for and with people."

Parrish also reflects on the ongoing dearth of diversity in the dance music industry and posits whether some of the most popular music in the US—such as trap—reinforces counterproductive racial stereotypes. He asks: did house music ultimately survive because it left where it originally came from? Listen to the episode in full. -Chloe Lula