Seeking Divinity With the DJs of Bitches Play Music
At the collective's pre-sabbatical, post-freeze Club Eternal party
By Genevieve Wood, Fri., Feb. 10, 2023
After foul weather threatened the late-night festivities, Bitches Play Music (cleverly shortened to BPM) posted an Instagram story confirming that the party must indeed go on: "Trust, we will be warming you up tonight after the freeze."
The group's promise was not broken. From underground tunnels and sweat-filled warehouses to Coconut Club's spacious open-air rooftop, BPM turns any space into a conduit for their divine vision of nightlife's future. Throughout their first year of existence, the DJ collective has filled the dance floors of DIY settings and established venues alike with their carefully curated experimental electronic showcases.
"BPM came together very organically," says member Jona Guzman, who performs as Exit Aria. "When we became friends and started going out to raves in Austin, we found that there was something sort of lacking."
Last Thursday night, BPM went out with a seven-set, eight-hour, pre-sabbatical bang at Club Eternal, an intimate Fourth Street warehouse that has quickly become a favorite for those looking to keep dancing long after most venues' doors have closed. Since opening last July within the Coconut Club complex, the BYOB hideout has hosted international heavyweights as well as local electronic tastemakers like Saliyah. (Confirmed to stay open beyond South by Southwest, the building is tied up in long-term development plans alongside fellow Warehouse District bar Oilcan Harry's.)
Due to near-freezing temperatures, the space was less crowded than past BPM raves, but those who did make it out were rewarded with a visual and sonic feast.
A tight-knit group of sweaty, immaculately dressed attendees bumped and grinded under handmade swaths of white fabric, which hung from the ceiling like angelic deli meat. Technicolor projections designed by digital artist Connie Pico swirled behind the DJ booth, where BPM members took turns spinning mixes drawing on a wide array of rap, reggaeton, industrial, and ambient sound. The night reached its crescendo well past midnight, when Houston-born, Berlin-based special guest Lotic took to the turntables for a sweat-inducing post-club set.
Joining Guzman on a pre-party Zoom call with the collective's 11 members during last week's icy conditions, resident DJ Jeani Quimera expanded on BPM's founding.
"We went out to local parties for three months or so, and I think I probably saw one DJ that entire time that was a queer person of color," says Quimera. "It felt pretty alienating. We didn't see anybody like us playing music."
Yvonne Rios, known onstage as Frequency Realm, adds: "Many existing DJ collectives are queer, but they're mostly white. At other events, I wouldn't really see other queer people of color, even in the audience."
Inspired by the likes of poet/producer Elysia Crampton, San Antonio-based artist collective House of Kenzo, and local producers like Nudo and Lucía Beyond, the friend group decided to carve a space of their own design in Austin's underground scene. On their decision to offer sliding scale entrance fees for QTPOC attendees (queer and trans people of color), Mumtaz Afreen, aka Mortal Coil, says: "It can be really hard to access nightlife without feeling like you've broken the bank. When you put that intention out there, people really get the idea that they're wanted as a part of this community."
In addition to performances by their resident DJs, the collective brings in a diverse selection of guest artists for each function. At a World Cup-inspired tunnel rave last July, the crew recruited Colombian beatmaker Sausha De La Ossa and Tijuana-born Travieza for the bill. "Since nobody else is bringing these people out here, it feels like we should do it ourselves," explains Guzman. "We book every artist with the intention of showing their talent to Austin."
BPM's creativity extends far beyond their musical output. Members share responsibility for nearly every detail of event production, from venue decoration and poster design to doors and security. Angel Torres (Social Stigmata), Qui Alacron (D_sierto), Vio Dorantes (Vio en Vivo), and Sewa Olivares complete their lineup of resident DJs, while members Cara Andres and Ashlyn Stewart ensure each event runs smoothly. Local artist Misa Miranda contributes to visual design.
Their world-building efforts imbue each event with a sense of poetry, ritual, and the divine. "We plan our events with a lot of artistic intention," says Quimera. "We want to keep people immersed and give them a space to have meaningful experiences."
"It feels like a family," says Afreen. "It's really special because everyone just comes together for each party. It really does take a village.
"If you don't feel God or some sort of external spirit at our parties, why did you come?"
Last month, the group announced they'd be taking a brief sabbatical, citing a need to relax after a whirlwind year of party-throwing. "We just want to take some time for ourselves to recharge and come up with really cool events for the future," explains Rios.
"In the music industry, there's this idea that you need to keep pumping stuff out, but we need some time to just be human," says Quimera.
"The best parties take time," adds Afreen.
