Boiler Room has always been about a diversity of voices, from our presenters, to our crowds, to the hundreds upon hundreds of musicians who’ve come through our doors over the years. As BR expands constantly in all directions, we want to hear more of what those voices have to say, which is where the new semi-regular Perspective column comes in. This is a place for our favourite one-offs – writers, musicians, thinkers or gobshites – to get on their soapboxes, on their high horses, or just generally on one, and tell us what’s up. We start with the brilliant Lara Rix-Paradinas, who needs no introduction as she’s perfectly capable of introducing herself…
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Electronic music was never a great part of my life to begin with. I was the standard teenager that got into it by going out to raves, house parties, sometimes even clubs if I could wheedle my way round the doorman. At first, it was mainly about taking drugs and being with my mates: the standard getaway from worrying about career options and the like. The music was just what was there as the backdrop to it all.
Gradually I got more discerning about which music I listened to and saw live, and started hanging around with the guys that made the sounds. Electronica nights were always male dominated, but growing up with two older brothers and being part of their entourage going out this never really bothered me: in fact I didn’t really even notice it as a “thing”. Things only started getting noticeably difficult when I became less of a tomboy teenager – one of the boys, really – and started becoming a real life woman.
I had to calm down the amount of time I went out when I was eighteen: I wanted to focus on my university work and was really getting bored of drugs and getting smashed too. I also found someone I could be my true introvert self with. He’s a record label owner, we knew of each other through the guys I hung with as a teenager, I didn’t know his own work really, but I thought I should buy an album of his though – you know, just to be kind.
We talked about music a lot and he introduced me to many artists I now adore. He thought that I should give music production a go, I wasn’t sure, I didn’t just want to be just in his world when I had my own ambitions. I did, however, really enjoy making tracks in partnership with him, we work well together (although, I should add, I have “left the band” on numerous occasions) and thus our duo Heterotic was born.
“Run along, girls” were his exact words… “Run along, girls.”
Four years later, after our marriage, he was setting up sound for a gig, sound checking in a massive room that contained a swimming pool. A swimming pool, of course, has extreme acoustics and massively changes the sound of your music, and as I had co-written 50% of the tracks in his set I helped him sound check: I was as keen as he was to make sure the material sounded right. But for some bizarre reason, the stage manager didn’t want my friend or I there. “Run along, girls” were his exact words… “Run along, girls.”
I probably don’t need to say I was fuming at this – but my friend Cheryl was fuming as much as I was. The thing is, she works for the UN promoting STEM (Science, Tech, Engineering, Maths) for girls, and though she didn’t have the same reason to be there as me, she felt the sting of being patronised just as strongly. This got us talking and comparing experience, and conversation came around to the fact she was setting up a new department of her company to include the promotion of the digital arts to girls. We agreed that we didn’t just want to talk to people already in the industry, we actively want to reach out to girls aged 11-16, via the digital arts which we both loved, and show them that they could consider going into STEM.
A year or so later, Heterotic’s first release came along, and the inevitable interviews and reviews followed. What stood out to me were these two words, repeated everywhere: “his wife”. I am married yes, but I was also an active participant in the production of these songs. It was not just a producer and “his wife”. And yes, I know this was a new venture for me, unlike my esteemed other half – however I couldn’t help finding it a little… rude? A few months later again, our second album came out, and yes, the same thing happened again. Well, maybe worse, even. THIS happened:
I laughed. I think it summed up the bullshit beautifully. My friend Cheryl hit me up again, and fired up by my experience, I wanted to go hard with this project. We made a plan. We need to raise funds for what will follow, so I’ve set about making a compilation with female artists, including pioneers alongside new young things. We are using the funds raised to put on workshops for girls aged 11-16. These girls can learn how to produce a track using different programmes or they can make their own visual works, all using computer programmes.
At the end of the workshop we will have a mini performance to show off what we have done, so they can feel proud of their achievements. We have got many artists – women and men – helping run the workshops, so that the girls can see ladies and men working together with technology on equal terms, and also realise that they can get encouragement from both genders.
I don’t want art, music or STEM to be a gender-defined thing. I want to live in a world where I don’t see “glitter science” for girls and I definitely don’t want to live in a world with t-shirts that say “my boyfriend is a DJ”. Lets get girls into these jobs, let’s get them to understand that technology is there for the taking – whether that’s to make tunes or to figure out the world around them – and lets get reporting their achievements better too.
DigitalMuse is a global collaborative network stimulating girls’ interest in science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM). Find out more information about the initiative via their website.
