If you live locally, you’ve likely come across au4r33y, although not always behind the booth. Look hard enough and you’ll find her proudly cladding high-vis, manning the kitchen, or arranging logistics for the artist you’ve paid to see that night. 

Day to day, au4r33y also manages a pool of equally important side-gigs. She’s the co-founder of party series Prowl, which she runs alongside the visual mind of the event series, Matt Hopkins, and also, on occasion Wishes with friend of the club DJ, Paramat. These are community led parties spanning tech-house, electro and eclectic cuts rooted in lesser-known sound.

She also teaches DJ lessons to new artists, a gig she’s been quietly looking forward to for some time. 

Even as she jumps on our call, au4r33y has just returned from a production meeting. As we talk I begin to understand that her drive comes from an incredible enthusiasm for her scene, its vibrancy and endurance. 

Ahead of her first show back at Club 77 we got to talking to au4r33y about her love for music, including some of her favourite records, and igniting passion for what matters most, how people feel on the dance floor.

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You’re completely involved in the Gadigal scene, not just as a DJ and promoter, but as a support to other party-throwers. What has partnership, and your openness to lending a hand taught you? (assuming what goes around comes around)

I feel like collaboration is really central to the work I do, especially now. My own career benefited so much from having people share their knowledge with me, I've always wanted to do that for other people too. Whether that's coordinating a tour with Out Here Agency, stage managing, or teaching people how to DJ through Fanatico, it's all part of that same philosophy.

Pretty early on, when I first started promoting and DJing, I realised that the more you work with other people, the stronger the scene becomes. And the stronger the scene is, the more everyone benefits, whether you're a promoter, a festival organiser or a DJ.

One of the biggest things I try to do, even when I'm just at a party, is bridge the gaps between different people, different communities and different sounds. As a promoter, it’s about bringing together artists and audiences that might not otherwise cross paths.

Sydney, and Australia as a whole I guess is so isolated, so building those connections is really important. It's what creates a strong foundation and gives people the opportunity to branch out and build their careers.

I was also really lucky because I had two pretty strong mentors early on: Alex McGuigan (Out Here Agency) and Barney Kato. Barney really helped me on the DJ side of things, while Alex taught me a lot about the behind-the-scenes side of running events.

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Can you tell us more about handing on information, and not gatekeeping. It seems like this really matters to you…

I want there to be more openness within the community because I think, especially in warehouse scenes, people can be quite protective. There's this perception that there aren't enough people or DJ slots to go around. But I don't actually think that's true.

If there aren't enough people coming to parties, that's because the scene isn't strong enough yet, and the scene isn't strong enough if we're not working together, because at the end of the day, we're all part of the same community.

Whether you're picking up rubbish after a party, working the door, filling up the water station or playing a set, every contribution matters. They're all necessary if you want a healthy scene.

I want people to feel comfortable coming up and asking me questions. Even when I'm teaching DJ lessons, I always tell people not to be afraid to ask for advice or feedback. People will always appreciate you asking questions more than pretending you know everything and accidentally doing something disrespectful because you didn't want to ask.

Just swallow your pride and ask. That's how you learn. 

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I think sometimes in the essence of getting everything right, it can be easy to forget that parties are supposed to be fun. How do you stay true to the intention of the night?

It kind of comes back to what I was saying before, it's not that deep. We're just playing tunes. When I say that, I'm reminding myself not to take myself too seriously. But I do take what I do very seriously.

If you want to find me at one of my parties, just stand still for ten minutes and I'll eventually walk past because I'm constantly doing laps. I'm checking that everyone's okay, making sure the lights are right, making sure the artists are happy… but I also think that's my responsibility as the promoter.

It's my job to make sure everyone is safe, that the atmosphere feels right, and that people are having a good experience. It's not inherent to the role that I get to enjoy myself and so, my enjoyment comes from everyone else's enjoyment.

Especially when you're running parties in underground spaces and collaborating with visual artists or building installations, you're trying to create an environment where people can completely disconnect from everything else.

Music has been such an important part of my life. Being on a dance floor has genuinely shaped the way my brain works, and how I regulate myself. I want other people to have that experience too. If taking on that extra stress is what allows other people to have that experience, then I'm happy to do it.

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I’d love to know what some of your early, memorable dance floor experiences were, and when you decided that mixing might be for you? How have these more formative listening experiences influenced you today?

I never actually set out to become a DJ, promoting was always my thing, and has always stayed at the centre of what I do. So the DJing came afterwards.

I was introduced to electronic music in October 2021, started working as a promoter in 2023 and I completely fell in love with it.

But I actually think my most formative dance floor experiences happened a year or two later. I went to ‘The Wishing Well’ to see Donato Dozzy play an afterparty after a Strange Signals event.

It was just Donato all night. I had no idea who he was, I didn't know the warehouse, I didn't know the party, I went in completely blind because a friend just told me, "Trust me. Go."

I remember standing on the dance floor at the end of the night crying. I don't even know how to explain it, it just completely overwhelmed me.

Whenever people ask me questions like this, about what shaped the music I play or the way I DJ, I actually find it really difficult to answer. It's really hard to put those moments into words because they exist more as feelings than memories, or even something deeper than that.

I'm such a talkative person, I talk all the time. So I really treasure those moments where I don't have to use words, where I don't have to explain myself, or justify anything, or think about what comes next.

I can just exist and those are probably the moments I hold closest to my heart.

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For your upcoming performance with Jamie Palmer, who also tends to stick to vinyl, what are you packing in your record bag?

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