Dance Music and

Women's Studies in Communication

Volume 27. Number 2. Summer 2004

Sisterdjs in the House: Electronic/Dance Music and Women-Centered Spaces on the Net Rebekah Farrugia This essay examines the role of women DJs and their positioning within electronic/ dance music culture, which is overwhelmingly dominated by men. The Sisterdjs listserv is an educating and encouraging space for its participants with very few offline equivalents. Using Butler's theory of performativity, I argue that list discourse positively impacts the identity construction of women DJs by drawing attention to the ways that women are discursively positioned at the intersections of music, technology, and cuture.

I n this article, I examine the role of women DJs and their positioning within electronic/dance music (hereafter, E/DM) culture.' E/DM is an overwhelmingly male-dominated field and it would be difficult to argue that E/DM has one specific center; this paper demonstrates how all of its circles are drawn around men. The goals of this paper are twofold. First, I investigate the marginalization of women in E/DM DJ culture. Second, this paper looks specifically at the functions and purposes of the Sisterdjs listserv for its participants. My study of Sisterdjs examines an alternate means by which women who engage in artistic endeavors create womencentered spaces to deal with male biases. Seeking to understand women's online interactions as meaningful discourse demonstrates the ways in which the Internet is providing the means by which women can articulate constructive and informative spaces for themselves. The act of creating alternative spaces in which to learn and work is not confined to women in E/DM. It takes place in other creative arts areas, and, more generally, any place women's efforts have historically been relegated to the margins and overlooked in comparison to work produced by men. By outlining the means by which women in E/DM have traditionally been consigned to the dance floor and similarly less involved positions, however, we can gain a better understanding of the ways in which participation in the online discourse presented below is a vital Rebekah Farrugia is Assistant Professor of Communication at Western Michigan University. An earlier version of this essay was presented at the International Communication Association Conference, San Diego, 2003 and is based on arguments from her dissertation, "Spin-sters: Women, new media technologies, and electronic/dance music" (U. Iowa, 2004). The author wishes to thank Kristine Fitch, Thom Swiss, and Kembrew McLeod for their feedback on this essay.

Rebekah Farrugia 237

activity for these women. The Sisterdjs listserv is an educating and encouraging space for its participants with no offline equivalent. Using Butler's (1990) theory of performativity and Thornton's (1996) and Reynolds's (1999) discussions on the maleness of music subcultures, I draw attention to the ways in which Sisterdjs is used to highlight and contest E/DM culture's discursive and material perceptions of women's place in related scenes. I employ Butler's theory of performativity to understand the complex ways in which women are doubly oppressed when they take the stage, and hence to highlight the significance of online interactions. Butler uses the concept more broadly to examine the ways in which the unconscious construction of gender " 'compels' our belief in its necessity and naturalness" (p. 140), and is used as a "strategy of survival within compulsory systems" (p. 139). The specific topics of discussion and strategies employed by the women on Sisterdjs are generalizable beyond E/DM culture. The method of analysis and conclusions I draw can be used to understand and further investigate the ways in which the Internet offers potential liberation from discrimination, based on sex or otherwise. The arguments I present can also apply to many situations in which underlying notions of women's gender roles conflict with the achievement of a sense of agency. Mainstream culture still regularly limits the involvement and representation of women within the creative arts. For instance, women within the music industry more broadly conceived, as well as women within all aspects of media production and technology, engage in a constant battle to claim a space for themselves and challenge notions of male dominance in these industries. If through Sisterdjs female DJs are able to support each other and work to challenge the expectations that women don't DJ, than the same processes can carry over to women working in a country and western bar, organizing a concert tour, or conducting an orchestra. Many authors such as Sarah Thornton (1996) and Sheila Whiteley (1997)^ investigate the marginalization of women in pop music communities and the industry generally; however, with the exception of Coates' (1998) work on Rocklist—a listserv dedicated to the academic discussion of popular music—few critics examine online activities or the Internet's usefulness in developing alternate communities to deal with inequalities women face. In her study of the identity construction of successful female performers, Whiteley (2000) states that "while the 1990s show some significant inroads by women into the music industry, production continues overall to be gendered in quite conventional ways, especially with

238 Women's Studies in Communication

regard to positions of power" (p. 4, italics added). The difficulties and barriers with which women who choose to actively participate in traditionally male centered arts must cope are not a reality in just E/DM, but in the cultures of many musical genres, including hip-hop, classical, opera, and popular music more broadly conceived.'' For instance, in her discussion of Rocklist, Coates (1998) writes, "I had given up trying to have intelligent discussions about rock long ago. I did this because of frustration with the hypercritical, 'boys club' mentality of private and public (e.g., academic and journalistic) rock discourse" (p. 78). The trend also extends beyond the realm of music and into all factions of the creative arts including artisan crafts, writing, visual arts, and dance."*

Electronic/Dance Music, DJs, and the Gender Divide In an article on gender, technology, and the body in dance music, Bradby (1993) notes that "the new categories of studio hero—producers, mixers, 'scratchers', etc—are all normatively male" (p. 156). Several years have passed since Bradby's observations. While her arguments still appear to represent the norm, the Sisterdjs listserv confirms that there are women engaging in the traditional male roles of producers and DJs. As such, this paper investigates the positionality of women DJs of electronic/ dance music. Butler's (1990) performativity claims about gender provide a perspective for explicating the assertion that women's participation as DJs in E/DM culture is viewed as deviant and consequently, women in these environments are positioned in less advantageous positions than their male counterparts. Butler's theory details the unconscious performance of gender roles. This is different from stage performance in the sense that when performers choose to literally take the stage, they do so consciously. They may or may not be aware of the unconscious performance of gender that they carry out in their everyday lives. Thus, prior to taking up roles that require them to be on stage, both women and men are engaged in an intense level of gender performativity. However, when men decide to take the stage as DJs, their DJing performance works as an extension of their gender role. They are expected to be both the innovators and the stars in music and technology-based environments. Their performance reinforces the culture's gendered expectations that men be visible creative and technological innovators. On the other hand, once women take up the role of the DJ, a double performance is underway. The DJ role presents a point


of contention for women because of the DJ's necessary interactions with technology, which in itself works against the norms of femininity. As DJs, women are placed in the center of a musical and technological act—two spheres that are usually occupied by men—and in tum, some of their experiences and the challenges they face in these spaces are different from those of men. For women, there is a constant mediation between the conscious stage performance and unconscious gender performance. Butler (1990) notes that the construction of gender is a "performance with clearly punitive consequences" (p. 139) for which transgressors are regularly punished. The performance of gender is masked as natural and based on biological sex. These constructions stay in place because individuals who stray from their traditionally assigned roles are punished. Butler goes on to state that "gender is an identity tenuously constituted in time, instituted in an exterior space through a stylized repetition of acts" (p. 140, italics in original). Coupling Butler's arguments with theoretical observations made on the coming together and maintenance of E/DM subcultures further supports and illustrates her position. Again, in this paper the repeated act under scrutiny is the DJ performance. Assessing the leisure practices or acts adopted by young men and women, Thornton (1996) claims that "the first choice for an evening out for women between fifteen and twenty-four is a dance club" (p. 103). Yet, women's relationship to music is traditionally viewed as distanced. They go to clubs for the purpose of dancing after having spent most of their money on clothes and cosmetics (Thornton). Men, on the other hand, invest a greater amount of capital in record purchases and are more likely to spend their time at clubs networking with DJs and music producers. As such, a more refined and personal understanding of music, especially that which lies outside of the realm of "pop," is considered the interest of men.^ The observations of Straw (1997) and Reynolds (1998, 1999) on the gender divide in E/DM and club cultures directly support Thornton's (1996) claims. Commenting on gender and connoisseurship in rock music culture. Straw notes that record collecting is an overwhelmingly male pastime. The importance of this statement lies in the fact that "record collections are carriers of the information whose arrangement and interpretation is part of the broader discourse about popular music" (p. 5). In this sense, collecting itself becomes a gate-keeping act. For instance. Straw argues that "having learned to play guitars and play them loud, women find that the lines of exclusion are now elsewhere. They emerge


when the music is over, and the boys in the band go back to discussing their record collections" (p. 15). Women exist on the margins of record collecting which is viewed as a male, homosocial activity. Occupying such a secondary position can be detrimental to women DJs because it can make interacting with collectors and record store clerks difficult. Such interactions are of prime importance because the record store and discourse around collecting function as the hub of the shared knowledge and social networks that develop between producers and DJs. Specifically relating the issue to E/DM scenes, Haslam (1998) notes that "the mutually beneficial relationship of record shop and specialist DJ is integral in keeping scenes alive" (p. 152). As such, a sense of camaraderie and homosociality among record collectors is maintained in the interest of both male DJs and record shops. Confirming the distinct masculinity of DJ culture, Reynolds (1999) attests that the presence of women on the dance floor is not reflected by the proportion of women in the ranks of professional DJs . . . This has a lot to do with the homosocial nature of techno: tricks of the trade are passed down from mentors to male acolytes. DJ-ing and sample- based music also go hand in hand with an obsessive "trainspotter" mentality: the amassing of huge collections of records, the accumulation of exhaustive and arcane information about labels, producers, and auteurs. (p. 274) The importance given to esoteric knowledge in DJ culture has a lot to do with the role of the DJ in club and rave culture. The DJ is expected to go above and beyond simply playing music. Drawing on his personal experience as an E/DM DJ, Haslam (1998) writes that a key skill is obviously not just to drop the popular, well-known songs at the right part of the night, but to pick the right new releases, track down the obscurer tunes and newest imports, get hold of next month's big tune this month; you gather this pile, this tinder, together, then you work the records, mix them, drop them, cut them, scratch them, melt them, beat them all together until they unite, (p. 151) In other words, the DJ is no longer expected to simply play music as record companies have released it. The assessment of the DJ's skills often


depends on his or her ability to successfully scavenge, and then seamlessly mix in and out of, records. "The DJ constructs the raw material of sundry tracks into a metatrack, an abstract emotional narrative with peaks and valleys" (Reynolds, 1999, p. 273). Hence, good DJ sets are sometimes referred to as "journeys," and the DJs as catalysts or individuals who have achieved priestly proportions (Haslam, p. 160). Consequently, while the DJ is the initial catalyst of it all, her/his role is to communicate with the dance floor. It is this constant interaction that creates the evening's chemistry, whereby the DJ is a maestro, "seducing and arousing the 'feminine' crowd, guiding it through a multiorgasmic frenzy" (Reynolds, 1999, p. 274). Thus, the DJ performance is a vital component to an evening at the club and the broader world of E/DM culture. The DJ is the foundation upon which the rest of the culture is built.* Additionally, in a skeptical, scrutinized account of rave culture (E/ DM's social sibling), Reynolds asserts that "it's the first youth subculture that's not based around the notion that sex is transgressive" (1998, p. 88). Referring to her research in London in the early 1990s, Thornton suggests that "when the culture [E/DM] came to be positioned as truly 'mainstream' rather than just behind the times, it was feminized" (1996, p. 100). The feminine in music subcultures is associated with actions that are devalued (such as dancing) and have become passe (such as mainstream or pop music). The aspects of the culture that are controlled by men are considered to be its authentic features. McRobbie (1999) notes that "girls appear to be less involved in the cultural production of rave, from the flyers, to the events, to the DJing, than their male counterparts" (p. 79). Women are relegated to less glamorous and significant positions such as helping out on the till, working behind the bar, or engaging in "PR" by distributing flyers on the streets and in other clubs (McRobbie, p. 82). Women who deviate from the traditionally passive, feminized roles of dancers in clubs and take up the more active, conventionally masculine role of DJ are often excluded from valuable social networks. In effect, such alienation and lack of access acts as punishment for these women by making their pursuits more difficult than they generally are for men with similar interests. Discourses produced by women on the Sisterdjs listserv provide a window through which one can not only enter but also study the meaning-making processes of women with respect to their engagement with E/DM.


Sisters in Cyberspace I investigate these relationships by looking at the discourses of women DJs as they congregate in a particular online setting known as the Sisterdjs listserv. I was routed to the mailing list's official website, http://www. sisterdjs.coni' via personal contact with the webmistress of a related site called Sister: Women DJs and MCs in San Francisco and Beyond.^ The front page of the Sisterdjs site lists the group's intentions as follows: In 1996 I created this list as a resource for women djs across the world. We (women djs) are still the minority in the large male dominated scene. I feel that creating a safe place to ask questions about DJing will help the growth of women djs out in the world. This list is mainly a support group for new and experienced women to exchange information about anything DJ related. (DJ Dazy) The Sisterdjs listserv functions as a community for women who DJ E/DM. At the time I conducted this research the bios of 67 women DJs were listed at the site.' Most likely the number of list subscribers is much higher. Most of the list members are U.S. residents but women from Canada, Australia, and diverse European locales also participate. Women continue to frequent the list for the explicit purpose of discussing issues pertaining to E/DM DJ culture. Discussion on the list clearly functions as a response to the reality that outside of this list, and similar collectives, the E/DM DJ community is an all boys club.'° In response to their exclusion from larger communities the list provides a safe place for women to discuss their DJing abilities, frustrations, and any relevant questions they may have. The safe place the collective offers takes shape in the form of a supportive and familial network. Several threads" and other discursive patterns that contributed to particular discussions on the list will be the focus of the remainder of this essay. These patterns are found in particularly long threads with subject headings such as pigeon holed, record care, and boyfriend hates the music. Posts within the threads on the listserv exemplify the extraordinary detail and personal experience that goes into sharing DJing advice and the formation of women collectives both on and offline.


The data I have collected in my field research resembles a snapshot of a group of participants as opposed to a presentation of a longitudinal outlook. During the collection of this research my role on the list was primarily that of a lurker.'^ The data I analyzed for the purposes of this project was all posted between September 22 and November 11 of 2001. A total of 305 messages were sent between these dates. Given the nature of the Internet it is impossible to be certain whether men wrote any of the posts. While the possibility of male subscribers exists, given the amount of personal experience disclosed on the list, it does not seem likely that any male imposters or participants are present. Also, many of the women who regularly post to the list are familiar with one another's persona and DJ related activities. Most of their profiles are featured on the Sisterdjs website or on similar sites such as Sister. In addition, DJs often have their own websites where they feature their bios and examples of their work. I collected and filed the posts then proceeded inductively, coding the bulk of the mail with the intent of noting patterns in conversational style and subject matter. The majority of the posts are on topic—meaning they deal specifically with issues that explicitly relate to the theme of the list—and reveal the diverse range of issues that arise with respect to women and their experiences in the male-dominated E/DM scene. How does male domination of the E/DM scene shape the experiences and perceptions of women DJs as they work to establish themselves on a grassroots or more professional level? I adopted a grounded theory approach as discussed by Strauss and Corbin (1994) to answer this question. As Strauss and Corbin note, the approach involves a "continuous interplay between analysis and data collection" (p. 273). In addition, "interpretations must include the perspectives and voices of the people whom we study" (p. 274, italics in original). In other words, we must be mindful of culture. In defining "culture" Spradley (1980) states that it "refers to the patterns of behavior, artifacts, and knowledge that people have learned or created" (p. 86, italics in original). Consequently, I intertwine Butler's (1990) gender transgression work and Thornton's (1996) more specifically related subcultural studies for the purpose of understanding and seeking to explain the ways in which the Sisterdjs list functions as a woman centered DJ space. Butler's theory of gender transgression provides a means to interrogate the multiple layers of institutional pressure and discrimination with which these women are faced and what happens once they choose to publicly move beyond the roles typically reserved for women in E/DM culture. For most of these women, DJing is an activity that shapes their


identity and affects their lives well beyond the time they spend behind the decks. It is an identity they publicly engage on a regular basis, everywhere from clubs to record stores, and the conversations they have along the way. Many posts on the Sisterdjs list deal with a number of issues simultaneously and as such, reveal a wide array of information pertaining to the ways in which this group operates. Thornton (1997) claims that "subcultures are groups of people that have something in common with each other (i.e., they share a problem, an interest, a practice) which distinguishes them in a significant way from the members of other social groups" (p. 1). While I agree that this statement is reflective of Sisterdjs, I refrain from adopting the term "subculture" to refer to the group because of additional descriptive, accounts of subcultures as Thornton presents them. She goes on to suggest that subcultures have been considered "beneath, but within, 'society' or 'culture' " and that they "are often positioned by themselves and/or others as deviant or debased" (p.4). Second, they "have often been perceived as lower down the social ladder due to social differences of class, race, ethnicity and age" (p. 4). I would add gender to Thornton's list of demographic characteristics. In order to refute the connotations associated with the term subculture I refer to the group as a "community of practice." These women are seen by others (usually men) as embodying deviance or self-degradation because of their interest in male-dominated spheres of technology, music, and the art of DJing. They recognize the inequality in DJ scenes but nothing in my research leads me to believe that group members perceive themselves or want to encourage the idea that they engage in deviant practices. The passages quoted below directly contribute to an understanding of E/DM DJ culture as an all-boys club.^^ The heading all boys club is a native term taken from a post, part of which appears as follows:

With myself, I'm a tribal progressive DJ. Sucky part about being in SF is that the progressive music scene is an all-boys club. To my knowledge I don't know of any other girls who play this genre other than myself. Barbarella (who is also on this list) was the last female prog DJ here during her brief stay. There's nothing I can do to change that except get a sex change operation or leave the Bay Area which I plan on doing when things at home are taken care of. However I'm fully content on being a female. I'd rather have fewer bookings playing from the heart than to


play music I don't care for that is popular with the kids, take care, '*

There are a number of native references to E/DM DJ culture in this post that need to be explained in order to understand their relevance with respect to the positioning of women in the dominant E/DM culture, and the need for safe spaces such as Slsterdjs. The participant begins this part of her post by stating the fact that she is a tribal progressive DJ. Besides being a woman, this participant feels that she is further marginalized because of the specific type of E/DM she spins [DJs]. In her opinion, the local tribal progressive scene is one that is not welcoming to women. While there is nothing inherent in the music that makes it so, it is important to keep in mind tribal progressive's status as a subgenre of prog or progressive E/DM and thus, it is a sub-subgenre of E/DM. McLeod (2001) notes that E/DM communities are built around genres, sub-genres, and with the recent growth of E/DM, increasingly sub-sub-genres.'^ As such, hierarchies and group dynamics vary from one sub-genre community to the next. As a sub-subgenre, the tribal progressive scene most likely consists of a relatively small number of DJs compared to long-standing subgenres with substantial international followings, such as house, techno, and drum 'n' bass. As such, there are a limited number of gates through which one can enter and be an accepted member of the scene. Thus, one issue that must be kept in mind when trying to understand the intricacies of women's positionality within E/DM DJ culture is the increasing fragmentation of the music and the ways in which such partitioning creates the need for increased protection over territory and music. Further, Haslam (1998) also claims that "generally the identity of the music-makers is of minimal interest" to the scene (p. 158). He is mainly referring to the producers of the tracks. Traditionally, the identities of E/DM artists are rarely disclosed. For instance, faces of producers and DJs do not regularly appear on E/DM record sleeves and promotional materials. Fans do not push for or endorse such disclosure because of the culture's dedication to the aforementioned idea that "it's all about the music." The identities of DJs are disclosed only when they perform while the names and faces of producers generally remain unknown. In tum, fans often know the DJs they like or dislike but it requires much more effort for them to familiarize themselves with producers of the music. As such, Haslam's point that identity is of minimal interest further renders maleness


as the norm. Ariel's post suggests that a more appropriate statement would read, identities do not matter as long as you are male. Even though there is no hard evidence indicating that the sexism women encounter within a specific type of E/DM is directly tied to the type of E/DM they DJ, there seems to be a disturbing trend in E/DM that attempts to rationalize aligning men and women with specific subgenres. For instance, techno, which has been described as "inhuman machine music" (Reynolds 1999, p. 51), is often aligned with maleness because of its hard, machine-like sounds. Similarly, in the following statement DJ Kimberly S. suggests that tribal progressive embodies a sound that appeals more to males. "For the women I play a diverse set-anything from hip-hop and R&B to very vocally flavored house music, disco, and funk." She goes on to say that "for the boys I start light, then go for a progressive tribal sound, flavored with vocal anthems, with a lot of crescendos and climaxes to keep the energy high" (Barrett, 2001, p. 77). Moreover, Ariel is particularly distressed by the fact that she does not have any female allies in the tribal progressive community. Seeing herself as the lone outsider contributes to a sense of alienation from others who are familiar with the genre from a DJ perspective. Contact with such people is especially important in E/DM communities because often times it is only via informal conversation that valuable information is transmitted. It is through word of mouth that one is "in the know" about relevant infonnation such as upcoming events, the latest record releases, and local knowledge. Being "in the know" is especially important because credibility is established based on one's knowledge of the types of information mentioned above (Thornton, 1996, p. 11). Also, getting access to bookings at local clubs—which is where most DJs begin their careers—depends heavily on whom you know. The following post illustrates that many women are aware of the ways men learn from one another via networking in environments where women are often not taken seriously or excluded altogether. The alternative that this woman advocates is formal education. A lot of people don't go to school for this kind of stuff, they just ask their buddies to show them how to work gear and hook them up with jobs. But my experience is that this is quite the male dominated industry . . . and your friends may not expect you to actually want to know technical stuff and not take you seriously. It has been better for me personally to have an instructor who is trained to spoon feed you information, now I can go up to my


biggest computer-geek friends and spit out the lingo with the best of them, and rightfully assume their stance of knowledge. And I'm quickly accelerating PAST a lot of my male friends, because they are learning everything through trial and error. Miranda, DJ Dominatrix

Miranda, an Oakland, CA resident, seems to share Ariel's experiences. However, instead of a geographical move she suggests formal education as an alternative route to knowledge. Nonetheless, the importance of being accepted in sub-subgenre communities is made visible via Ariel's post. She resides in San Francisco, the home of the Sister collective, yet this established collective does not seem to offer enough support. Immense frustration leads her to suggest that the extreme solution of moving to another geographical location is the only viable option available to her if she wants to progress as a DJ. From her perspective, the lack of a penis, by which maleness and hence acceptance is defined, renders her illequipped to penetrate the tribal progressive collective in the San Francisco area. Unfortunately, there is little evidence that suggests a more inviting atmosphere awaits her elsewhere. The end of Ariel's passage also speaks directly to authenticity. To reiterate, she claims that she is fully content on being a female and that she would rather play from the heart than play music that is popular with the kids.'^ Ariel's assertion suggests that she refuses to "sell out." Even though the DJ is there to respond to the mood and musical desires of the audience, she is eager and willing to do so only as long as pleasing the crowd does not mean venturing too far out of the underground and into the popular. In other words, she has no intention of changing the type of music she spins for the purpose of gaining more attention and popularity. One of the characteristics of a successful DJ is the ability to walk the fine line between the popular and the obscure or underground, to be able to gain simultaneous recognition from the audience and other DJs. Perhaps Ariel is in part concerned with playing from the heart because she has not received the respect that she thinks she deserves from the local DJ community. Giving in to the popular would most likely result in her being rewarded by the mainstream music culture (with bookings at certain clubs that cater to the popular, for example) but not her peers. On the other hand, the tribal progressive community, both fans and DJs alike, would further


ostracize her. Essentially, a no-win situation is most often presented to women DJs. The refusal to sell out and the dedication to playing from the heart are indicative statements that suggest that many of these women are risk takers in fairly conservative environments where it is very easy for them to be pigeon holed. This excerpt is taken from the post which began this thread. Well, it's happened. Over the last year and a half, I've refocused my musical direction somewhat especially with having a label that's dedicated to dub/reggae influenced HOUSE and downtempo, I'm so down with that style and have become known for it locally. Which I think would have been great, however, a few bookings lately have not happened because promoters are like "yah, we'd book her but her dub style is too deep for the crowds". Of course that's cool with me. I've definitely found *my sound*. However, I STILL buy the tech-house and more soulful house—mainly for the bookings that I get that want more of a mainstream sound and most importantly because I like it! Nancy Kyd While there were not many responses to Nancy's statement, a few women engaged in a discussion about the impact of becoming known for spinning specific subgenres of E/DM. i can really relate to that, the opposite is happening to me. i am getting really well known for playing banging hard house, but i buy records from many genres including breaks, deep house, and atmospheric drum n bass. I can basically play something to fit almost any mood . . . and yet a lot of the time i will hear of people who passed me up for the booking because they couldnt give me a prime time slot, more suitable to hard house. On the other hand, another DJ writes, my style is pretty weird . . . I've been known to mix lots of genres together in short sets, and to spin some unheard, not so popular tracks. There are always some points where I feel I'm playing my best, deepest shit, and those times I might have


actually cleared the floor! (example: during a recent outdoor underground party, I threw down the track Enlightenment by Way Out West—the most beautiful, organic breaks track ever! however, it isn't your typical jump up and dance type track) I don't really care though, because I see the few fellow music lovers in the crowd who are totally digging on my style (and they always come up and tell me so!), so I play for them (and myself) first. I don't know if some of you consider that wrong, since the DJ's job is to get the crowd moving, but I have faith in my audience that by exposing them to new sounds they will be able to get into i t . . . and I gotta say that I love San Diego for that reason! leah ps I am constantly changing up my style. I refuse to be pigeon holed...;) Similar to Ariel, Leah emphasizes the need to play from the heart even if that means taking risks that could potentially jeopardize her career or fan base. Leah spins tracks that are to her liking but she makes a point to tell us that she does have some support from the San Diego scene. As Ariel's post suggests, positive feedback from one's geographical locale is important and has a big impact on a DJ's career. Central to the list discussion is the sharing of infonnation, experience, and expertise, because of the importance of social networking to improve DJ skills and gain access to bookings. The following post is exemplary of the sisters' willingness to disclose valuable information:

Hey there, just wanted to say YOUR WELCOME for sharing gemm.com with you it's a secret that i didn't know about till recently (even though i've been mixing and searching and pillaging for 7 years now), because I was wondering how my man was finding EVERY track . . . anyways, these things should not be secret weapons.... ALL SHOULD KNOW WHERE THE RECORDS ARE!!! Much love to all, keep me informed on any secret record locators as they arise. peace out. Moody


Although her man, or partner, is in the scene and she has been involved with DJing for 7 years. Moody was unaware of gemm.com. The selfproclaimed "World's Largest Music Catalog" functions similar to ehay. com. It is a site where more than 2000 sellers around the world can list their wares [records for sale]. Moody fully understands the site's potential to function as another secret or piece of information for those "in the know," but she is quick to add that in her opinion these things should not be secret weapons. Similar to Moody, many other women post extensive insider knowledge to the list that in many other environments remain secrets. While this act of disclosure might seem like a common courtesy, it is one that is not practiced to the same extent on similar, but maledominated lists. Some men in particular are quite reluctant when it comes to imparting potentially valuable information. For instance, a thread titled Taking off Labels appeared on 313, a list dedicated to the discussion of Detroit Techno. The thread consisted of several participants bickering about the ethics of hiding or removing the labels on records so that they are unrecognizable by individuals in the crowd. While most of the discussion consisted of lesser known individuals pointing accusatory fingers at bigger name artists, the thread still iiiustrates the fact that such gate keeping practices exist in E/DM DJ scenes. The women on the list take a similar approach to communicating expertise on important issues such as record care.

So this guy spilled beer on my record. It is my breakbeat remix of the Smurfs song and I have emotional attachment!!! Grrrrr! I dashed off to the record store to buy some of that record cleaning stuff. Friendly DJ store guy said not to buy it because it will leave a film n your records. He said he cleans his records with water and some rubbing alcohol and a soft cloth. I tried that but you can still hear that there is goo on the record! My question to you wonderful ladies is how can I get this crap off!? How much rubbing alcohol to how much water (I know, should have asked at the store....) What would happen if I tried with just alcohol? Thanks so much as usual! loves, ekb*

Below are a few excerpts from replies that were posted publicly.


When it comes to my tunes i am a bit of a clean-o-maniac./What is the best way to clean and extend the life of vinyl. Esp. considering exposure to harsh environments like smoke, fingerprint grease, heat and other (avoidable or unavoidable) accidents. I've been told that Windex (window/glass) cleaning fluid is just as good (and the same thing) as the ten-dollar bottles of vinyl cleaning fluid. Is this true? For some inexplicable reason . . . my record shop has record cleaning fluid with no labels on the bottles plus i dont have a chemist friend to run some comparison tests (!). Much love - Shara. Hi all, I've never had beer spilled on a record, but I have had dogs piss on them (yuck!) and to get it off, plain old water worked great. I would recommend just rinsing it off, don't rub, and patting it dry. Good luck! —astrid— I suggest getting a couple of crap records from salvation army or the deep discount bin, and try out different cleaning solutions on them. That way you won't run the risk of damaging the record you love.. Leigh

Posting questions such as this one to the list is common and indicative of the extent to which these women trust one another and are willing to share their experiences, both good and bad. Taking from the thread Boyfriend Hates the Music??????? the next few passages are some of the most revealing posts on ways in which DJing interacts with other social dimensions in these women's lives. The original post started with the following statement: "tum that down!!" is a frequently heard phrase in my household. The fact that he hates the music doesnt bother me, i couldn't care less but, what bothers me is that he doesnt ever want me to get out there and spin in clubs or at parties, he is an old school jaded ex-raver and I guess he had some bad experiences, but he is very angry towards the whole scene for some reason, this comes down on me because, i love the music, in fact im obsessed with it!


Marisha offers a potential solution by drawing on her past experiences dating within the scene compared to her relationship with her current boyfriend. She says, while i am used to most people thinking me and my music are wierd . . . it did kind of suck that my bf did not take an interest in something that is important to me. He wouldn't have to like it or be expected to be my drooling groupie at every show . . . all I wanted was that he gave it a chance and made an effort to show support once in a while. I also wanted him to understand once in a while when I couldn't hang out with him because i had a gig, and not get upset. Needless to say i am not with him anymore. In contrast, her current boyfriend is NOT "in the scene" so there is no jealousy or competitiveness or other bullshit that comes with t h a t . . . no bringing politics and alliances and all that nonsense into things. That is also why I would not date another DJ . . . especially not a jungle dj because this city's too small for that. I've lost male friends who have been threatened by me as a DJ so I don't even wanna get started on a BF! (hey props to those out there who are dating fellow djs, happily with no problems!) **(advice section of this email here)** I would definitely probe more deeply into this double standard that's going on: he has a problem with YOU DJing but not his friends . . . there is more to that then just "bitterness at the scene". Marisha For these women experience has determined that dating a fellow DJ, especially a jungle DJ, introduces "jealousy, competitiveness, and other bullshit." Similar to tribal progressive, jungle (otherwise known as drum 'n' bass) is another subgenre of E/DM. Again, the focus on the subgenre illustrates the development of close networks and closed subgenre communities. In addition, men in these communities are expected to be "in the know" and hence, to be technically superior to their female counterparts. Therefore, women's transgression from their prescribed roles often leads to them facing yet another punishment, this


time on the relationship front. Other posts reveal that instances of jealousy and lack of support come from partners who have at one time or another also been involved at some level with E/DM, as well as from individuals who have no ties to any E/DM scene. Practicing to improve technical skills, record shopping, networking, and reading listserv emails can all be extremely time consuming activities. Dedication to such traditionally male pursuits can be threatening to men who do not have similarly passionate interests, or do not find such behavior appropriate for women. The thread generated genuine concerns that were shared publicly on the list and included assessments of the pros and cons of staying in a relationship with an unsupportive partner and potential signs of relationship abuse. Another positive ramification of the Sisterdjs listserv can be inferred from the number of online and offline collectives that list participants continue to establish. Here are a few examples of list members' desires and attempts to start collectives of their own. Hey sisters! I am planning on starting up a collective here in Philly, PA. I want it to be a strong business alliance as well as creative endeavor. I am just asking any sisters who were involved in anything similar in their areas to send me some tips/info/suggestions as to how to go about creating this. Also . . . Should I include all of the talented females I know of in this . ..? Or did most of the collectives you all have only include friends who were playing? There are about, say, 10 females here in philly that are playing out to some extent that I'd like to include.... cheers.lina Female DJs in Colorado My girl Tiffany and I are starting a crew called Sisters Soul Militia, anyone interested please email me. Megg Bad GRRL Beatz supports all female artists, and we are very interested in bringing female artists to Dallas as well as introducing our roster of talent to other cities. Eve II Beatz


These women appear to be in the beginning phases of establishing collectives in their home communities and as such, they tum to the list for assistance. They trust the opinions and to some degree, rely on the experiences and expertise of other DJs on the list for guidance. An increasing number of grassroots, all-women DJ collectives have recently sprung up or are in the process of doing so throughout the U.S. Dating back to 1996, Sister: Women DJs and MCs in San Francisco and Beyond is the oldest collective of its kind. Its mission statement describes the group as a place for female DJs to get gigs without bias, providing a supportive, friendly platform for any female DJ, MC or live performer to enjoy their music where gender is not an issue . . . a place where women are neither fighting to be heard nor imported merely to fulfill a gimmick quotient. Thus, collectives operate under the assumption that a group can accomplish more than a sea of individuals. DJs in a collective work as a group to promote each other's music, gain access to bookings, and provide support for one another. Furthermore, the lack of flaming on this list also exemplifies the community mentality" of the group. On most email lists, individuals often engage in public hostility to posts with which they disagree. On Sisterdjs, even in cases where individuals disagree with one another, participants make a specific effort not to have their alternate viewpoints interpreted as flames. A brief example from this established pattern demonstrates this point. In a thread about substance use, participants discussed the pros and cons of performing while under the influence. A diverse range of opinions was presented. When disagreements arose posts often began with qualifiers such as, "I see your point however; I feel the need to stand by my own as well," and "girl, I know there may be some truth, but you must remember our words influence other young minds." Courtesy and respect are continually present in list discourse. On the whole, my observations of the mailing list, including the examples quoted above, suggest that the list is a space that functions as an alternative or additional support community for female E/DM DJs. Often treated as deviants in male dominated communities, list participants encourage and assist one another in pursuing their interests and goals despite


the chastisements and difficulties they encounter for transgressing their gender roles.

Are the Tables Turning? In an article on the intersections of third-wave feminism and Generation X, Shugart (2001) argues that the central ideology of third-wavers suggests that women do not want to acknowledge or see themselves as marginalized. Shugart goes on to state that A third-wave philosophy also is individually liberating in that it absolves women of responsibility to the collective. Rather than shouldering the burden of all women, third wavers are responsible to and for themselves, not representative of and thus beholden to generations of women past, present, and future (p. 133). As defined by Shugart, characteristics of third-wave feminism include "consciousness of gender/sexism; individualism, especially articulated as confrontation; and inconsistency" (p. 142). While many of the Sisterdjs participants might fit into the category of third-wave feminists in terms of age, and while they express an interest and understanding of the interrelations of sexism and gender, they do not describe their agenda or actions as feminist. Steenbergen (2001) argues that present day popular media accounts have made sweeping generalizations about "the work of young feminist activists who have been vigorously engaged in complex critiques of popular culture and consumerism" (p. 261). For instance, the actions of youths who often capture the attention of the mainstream media—who feminist journalist and social commentator Michele Landsberg (quoted in Steenbergen, 2001) describes as—"youths who party at 'all-night raves,' those with 'tongue piercings,' and users of 'illicit drugs'" (p. 261) are portrayed in contrast to women engaging "legitimate" feminist concerns such as ending child labor practices. On the other hand, Shugart claims that feminism is in the midst of being "appropriated, defused, glamorized, and sold back to members as a meaningless but trendy (and, typically, commercially viable) shell of itself (p. 166) in the form of the Spice Girls and the new Charlie's Angels. Either way, practices such as learning to DJ that do not fit into the categories of either traditional


feminist activism or the easily repackaged trendy and chic, have no place in popular discourse about feminism. Nonetheless, the strong sense of collectivity encouraged by list discussion, the treatment of the topics raised, and the issues themselves, do reflect feminist concerns. On the surface these affairs might appear to be more consistent with the collective responsibility and consciousnessraising practices of second-wave feminism rather than the individualism which is a defining characteristic of third-wavers. However, Steenbergen's (2001) critique of mainstream media depictions of third-wave activities works to illustrate that the third wave is "an active, if amorphous, group" (p. 263). After all, third wavers are writing zines, publishing on-line ezines, contributing to magazines of the mainstream and alternative varieties, guerilla stickering, postering, graffiti writing, boycotting, critiquing both mass media generally and popular culture specifically, negotiating and re-negotiating relationships, contemplating the contradictions of sexuality, challenging paradigms, questioning dogma and resisting, resisting, resisting in their own innumerable private and public ways. (p. 263) The arguments presented by both Steenberger (2001) and Shugart (2001) support Lisa Marie Hogeland's (2001) claim that there is nothing specifically generational about different types of feminisms. In fact, elements of present day DIY (Do It Yourself) youth culture such as that presented above—which many Sisterdjs participants engage in—also bear similarities to some early second-wave activities (Hogeland, p. 117). Thus, rather than think of feminisms as generational, Hogeland suggests that differences lie in the different ways we see the relationship between consciousness and change. Whereas consciousness raising groups of the second wave banded together under an umbrella of feminism, Sisterdjs participants formed the collectivity out of individual motivations to be DJs. The list functions as evidence of the fact that although the popularity of huge umbrella organizations to encourage women to come together in the name of feminism have subsided, there continue to be a variety of supportive spaces for women. Unfortunately, collectives such as Sisterdjs are rarely discussed beyond their own geographical and cyberspace locations. They function quite exclusively as "underground" operations. In other words, they are not


collectives that are often acknowledged by the larger male-centered DJ culture. For instance, popular E/DM magazines rarely mention womencentered collectives. That these spaces remain unacknowledged renders knowledge of their existence and access to them difficult to obtain. Instead, the exposure of such collectives, their efforts and successes is relegated to a few alternative sites which are solely dedicated to what editors determine are accurate representations of women in the scene, such as pinknoises.com and the shejay.net, which released its first issue in Winter 2003. In turn, failure to recognize the efforts of women who belong to these collectives works to maintain the existing gender divide in E/DM scenes. In order to begin to break down the prescribed gender roles in E/DM cultures, all-women collectives and websites need to be acknowledged and respected in popular E/DM listservs, websites, and print publications. Sisterdjs has contributed to women DJs' ongoing and increasing participation in E/DM scenes. Consequently, my findings suggest that the list is important to the identity construction of female DJs. It is here that so many of them are exposed to highly valuable information regarding the many dimensions of being a DJ, regardless—or on second thought because of—their sex and gender. Men, on the other hand, are more likely exposed to the same information via face-to-face networking. As McLeod (2001) notes, in E/DM scenes "men have been in important positions at the artistic, production and promotion levels, all of which are important in controlling the discourse and classification systems that structure these scenes" (p. 73). The Sisterdjs listserv gives women the opportunity to converse with one another, build valuable networks, and hopefully gain a voice within these scenes. In her theory of gender performativity Butler (1990) suggests that the collective agreement to perform, produce, and sustain discrete and polar genders as cultural fictions is obscured by the credibility of those productions—and the punishments that attend not agreeing to believe in them; the construction 'compels' our belief in its necessity and naturalness (p. 140). In keeping with most popular music scenes, factions of E/DM culture such as listservs, websites, and print publications that are not created for the specific purpose of promoting women's DJing and production talents tend to typify and reproduce the gender biased hierarchies that are continually instituted in society at large. In addition, it is the aspects of E/DM culture that reproduce the status quo that tend to become popular and in tum, continue to shape the scene. However, the recent increase in the


formation of women-centered collectives, publications, and the rise in membership for Sisterdjs are indicative of the efforts of women and demonstrate that these spaces are not impenetrable. While to some extent the list operates as a counterpublic, interactions in cyberspace empower women to venture into the DJ world and work for change directly within the male dominated scene. Collectives such as Sisterdjs that exist to provide support to women who are pursuing their interests despite traditional gender roles are working to break down beliefs—both within and beyond the borders of E/DM communities—in the "necessity and naturalness" of performing prescribed gender roles. These collectives are powerful because they are resistant. Women who participate on the Sisterdjs list challenge existing practices and composition of E/DM communities. First of all, in the face of their struggles they refuse to play music simply because it is popular and could possibly gamer them some notoriety. Second, they are unwilling to accept their prescribed positions as dance floor divas, PR personnel, or other roles that position them at a distance from the DJ booth. Though he makes no reference to the positionality of women, in a history of the DJ and dance culture, Ulf Poschardt (1998) states that "every form of micropoiitics within DJ culture makes it plain that this progress is important, desirable and necessary" (p. 406). The progress to which Poschardt refers is the vision of a better world. Thus, by exploring the Sisterdjs space this paper hopefully serves as a discursive intervention in the normatively male E/DM DJ culture. The rich discussion generated by the Sisterdjs space suggests that in order for Poschardt's vision to come to fruition within and beyond DJ culture, gender roles need to be interrogated and deconstructed with the end result being more opportunities for women and recognition of their contributions.

Conclusion The creation of Sisterdjs as an all-women environment was based on the shared experiences of women trying to participate in male-dominated E/DM DJ culture. It is the similar experiences of these women DJs trying to move beyond their prescribed gender roles that brings them together and creates an encouraging and inviting space. The Sisterdjs listserv demonstrates the usefulness of online interaction and the offline impact it can have. Sisterdjs is a collective that operates within and well beyond the borders of cyberspace. Advice on issues such as DJing and record care, as


well as personal relationships and experiences in related musical communities, is shared online but for the purposes of making sense of and impacting the day-to-day practices and experiences of these women. The discourse examined in this paper draws attention to how and where women are discursively positioned in regards to music, technology, culture, and the intersections between these elements. Furthermore, Sisterdjs supports Nancy Fraser's belief that counterpublics "function as bases and training grounds for agitational activities directed toward wider publics" (in Coates, 1998, p. 89). Traditionally, women's involvement in not only E/DM DJ culture but also music culture more broadly conceived has been located in the act of consumption as opposed to production. The creation of Sisterdjs and similar communities of practice is a means by which women can depend on one another and garner the confidence needed to engage in the act of music production without encouraging the notion that they are marginalized. Whereas Clitlist—the women-centered offshoot of Rocklist—made it easier for women to continue to discuss rock music on Rocklist (Coates, p. 89), Sisterdjs encourages women to pursue their interests and talents as DJs. These safe and familial communities contribute to the identity construction of their participants and act as discursive interventions themselves by providing spaces where women can learn that they are not alone in their defiance and challenge to normatively male spaces.

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Notes 'While I am aware of the problems with discussing women as a homogenous group, a breakdown by demographics such as age, sex, ethnicity, race, and class is a task for a different paper altogether. Reynolds (1999) tells us that by the early nineties "what had once been a unified subculture based on a mix of musics began to fragment along class, race, and regional lines, as different groups began to adapt the music to fit their particular needs and woridviews" (p. 7). Thus, such fragmentation would necessarily involve aligning a variety of positionalities with specific subgenres. It is my belief that such a task would take away from the general problematics this paper attempts to interrogate. ^See also Simon Reynolds (1996) and Burns and Lafrance (2002). ^For information on specific genres see Burns and Lafrance, 2001; Letzter, 2001; McClary 1991; Rose, 1994; Whiteley, 2000. ''For specific examples see Apostolos-Cappadona & Ebersole, 1995; Jensen, 1995; Johnson, 1997; Ward Jouve, 1997. 'These assigned roles are further embedded in several aspects of pop culture. For a period of time in the late 1990s women's shirts were imprinted with the phrase I'm with the DJ. Given the heteronormativity of mainstream culture it can be inferred that the shirts were produced for the purpose of being sold to women with the implication that the DJ was male. Another example is the Generation Girl Barbie® line. Barbie and her female friends are all club dancers who are sold with accessories including an extra change of clothes. The male doll, Blaine, on the other hand, is equipped with a set of turntables and case of records. T h e slogan "It's all about the music" (the music which the DJ channels to the crowd) is commonly spouted in E/DM communities, especially in response to sensationalized media coverage that presents the center of the culture as one of rampant drug (ab)use. 'in addition, sisterdjs.com houses bios of its members, articles pertaining to women DJs and links to other valuable resources. ^Further information on Sister can be found at http://www.sistersf.com/mission.php 'By March 2003 the number of bios appearing on the site rose substantially from 67 to 99. '"Most of the italics in this section are used to signify terms that are native to the listserv. ' ' A thread is a series of posts to a mailing list that all deal with the same subject. '^Lurking is a term used to refer to individuals who subscribe to mailing lists but rarely post. "Where names are included in example posts they are those used by participants in the body of their emails to the list. No requests for anonymity were made, therefore, the names with which group members self-identify are included with their posts. '''All posts appear in their original form. Grammatical or spelling errors have not been flagged. '^For more information on the discourse of labeling in E/DM see McLeod, 2001. '*The use of the term kids does not imply that the audience for E/DM DJs is young children. The word has a long history in club and rave culture where it serves as a term by which members refer to one another. At other times, such as in this instance, kids is


used as a distinguishing marker to refer to the crowd or audience, as opposed to DJs. Whether or not a hierarchy is implied by the term varies among communities. For more information on the use of the term kids refer to Silcott, 1999. "My discussion of community mentality embodies elements that are sometimes described as feminine or characteristic of'feminine style (Campbell, 1989) such as relying on personal experience and addressing others as peers with the goal of empowerment. I also do not want to encourage the feminine/masculine dichotomy, but instead advocate the deconstruction of the binary.