Hyperaktivist’s highs, mids, and lows: ‘The music I play is a matter of pride’

She does that by banging out the most groove-heavy belters in the booth, next to speaking up about the politics behind what some will call the most uplifting music in the world, once she steps outside of it. She did so in the ADE Lab panel ‘Sounds of Venezuela’, and takes every chance she can get to spread the word about the country's rich cultural diversity. In a sense, it’s obvious why she’s picked this stage name.

Born and raised in Venezuela, Hyperaktivist knows the native sound of the country like no other. 'I remember going to the beach and seeing and hearing the Tambores play, something magical I'll never forget. Tambor players are percussion players, where each plays their own groove and forms a movement with the others. The highs, the mids, and the lows create a unified sound and rhythm together.' An obvious parallel can be seen in DJing, where these highs, mids, and lows form a wall of sound together, too. What makes the Tambores special, and Venezuela too in that regard, is that the dance form and music style 'Tambor' originates in the enslaved from Africa.

The African roots of the music and the ancestral dances have shaped many in their musical taste and beyond, including Hyperaktivist. 'When I stood watching them on that beach growing up, looking at those musicians in awe, I just felt so passionately about wanting to dance to it. Tambores start to play, walking in the streets and picking people up on the way. The more people following them, the larger the crowd gets until they've found a spot to stop. They then play and dance in the middle of the audience, almost starting somewhat of a dance competition. It's a very physical way of dancing which is almost combative but extremely playful, and the energy of the Tambores is very sexual.'

Vibrancy is scared of her
For those who have seen or heard at least one set of the now Berlin-based Hyperaktivist, it's more than obvious that what she's describing is much like her own sets. The DJ recreates this scene wherever she plays in a way that feels like her own, without ever taking a culture or movement that doesn't belong to her. In fact, these influences make for a vibrant musical culture that belongs to her just as much as it does to the Venezuelan Tambores, and she's all about paying it forward.

Venezuela's sound taps into merengue and salsa next to the Caribbean percussion rhythms. 'I feel like those drums are a mix between music that the native Venezuelans were already playing before the colonisation, and the music that was brought into the country with the enslaved from Africa, Europe, and other places in the world arrived. Venezuela has captured all those influences and made its own sound. The heart of Caribbean music is in the percussion, and so is the flavour, the groove, the energy, and the sexiness.'

To say the legacy of her roots inspires her would be an understatement: everything Hyperaktivist does is about percussion. It’s the foundation of the tracks she writes and plays, and she’s not afraid to layer different walls of rhythms and grooves together to build an entire flat from those percussive layers around it. The end goal is to get people dancing together, much like the Tambores, and to get them flirting, sweating, and exchanging energies in the sexiest environments they create on the spot. Throw in some techno next to the Latin-American and Caribbean rhythms, and you’ve got Hyperaktivist’s interpretation of high-energy, fast-paced dance floor music.

But just like in club culture, where the culture is more important than the club itself, the ‘aktivist’ part of Hyperaktivist is more important than the ‘hyper’ side of the Venezuelan DJ. The message: people tend to look to Europe for ‘dance music’ influences and what is cool at the moment, but there’s a much larger world out there for us to explore. That goes both ways, because in South American countries, bookers would much prefer to bring DJs over from Europe than to look at their own talent, according to her. ‘

Bubbly blowing up

The music I choose to play is not only a choice by roots; it’s also a matter of pride these days. The fact that there aren’t many Latin-American DJs around and that they rarely get booked in Europe or the United States because of this Eurocentric tendency to think that European DJs are the best has made me speak up’, says the bubbly but fiercely outspoken DJ and producer. ‘There has been so much amazing and refreshing new music coming from South America, and I predict that a year or two from now, that sound will blow up even more. Especially if we look at it.’

You could already hear influences from reggaeton, salsa, merengue, bubbling, and hard grooves take over Dutch festivals this summer, like Draaimolen Festival with its ambitious lineup, or ZeeZout Festival’s progressive programming, as well as in the ADE programme. These sound directions might make dancers reminisce of the late 90s or early 00s, when the sound of techno was heavily influenced by Latin-American percussion and Spanish vocals. The only difference is that the recognition of the origins of these styles is slowly but surely starting to surface, according to Hyperaktivist. ‘I feel like a lot of young producers have managed to captivate the particular essence of that era and are reproducing it with new tools.’ She names artists like Peachlyfe, Byron Yeates, Roza Terenzi, Jensen Interceptor, and many other popping artists as examples.

Besides her activism for recognition for the heritage of South American sounds, Hyperaktivist mainly advocates for more room, equality, and diversity on the dance floor. She does that with the club concept Mindful Electronic Sonic Selections (MESS) at OHM Berlin, which she started over six years ago and runs by herself and celebrates queer and femme artists from diverse cultural backgrounds. Next to MESS, she founded Mala Junta with Dj Tool and Nayme Hassany, and by speaking up about politics - something many DJs stay far away from, even though the world we live in is a hard one to keep silent about sometimes. With residents like the energetic Yazzus, D.dan, and Why Be, she pushes ‘her’ influence(s) forward, and because each has their own, different background, they push many other influences forward too.

Mala Junta is a queer club concept celebrating cheekiness and all the intimate good stuff Hyperaktivist and hers stand for. The crew is known for their deep-felt and far-reaching understanding of club culture, which is inherently connected to politics. After all, the way clubs and club kids started was because queer people needed a safe space to unwind, in a world where they couldn’t do so at the time.

These days, that inclusive space is still very much needed, and so Hyperaktivist makes space for newer names in the game, for those who need to escape the harsh reality of society, and for her talented friends. ‘When we started Mala Junta, we felt there was no place in Berlin where DJs with refreshing sounds could get booked. The sound of Berlin was so established that a lot of the music sounded the same. We looked at what people in countries like Venezuela and Colombia were doing or in cities like Copenhagen or Rio de Janeiro. We wanted to provide a place where these people could enter music without having to be an established part of the music industry.’

The reason she chose Berlin as the homebase of Mala Junta, is partly because of the political situation in her home country. She describes Venezuela as a paradise, one of the world's most biodiverse countries. 'Because of its size, you can reach different landscapes in just a few hours.' She sounds reminiscent when she speaks about her country, mainly because things aren't how they used to be. 'The regime has taken complete power over everything, and people don't have a chance to do anything about it.' Besides advocating for a new system, she's layering herself as much as her music's highs, mids, and lows.

Venezuelans have been fleeing the country in large masses, and Hyperaktivist wouldn't wear her name with pride if she wouldn't ask for attention for this matter, too. She feels that many countries now see her people as problematic and have a bad name. Leave it up to her to change that. 'There's so much potential in the continent, and we should care more about the people that live on it. I don't get a lot of opportunities to talk about this, so it's a nice surprise people want to listen to me now.'

And listen they do, because Mala Junta has never been more successful - although the organisation is not about numbers -, and her bookings are at an all-time high. So, if you catch one of Hyperaktivist's sets or go to one of Mala Junta's club nights, be prepared to leave with new beliefs. 'It's never a choice where you're from, but wearing it with pride and giving a fuck is.'