Karmerr — Intuition on the Dancefloor
The Johannesburg DJ, writer, and producer on emotional pacing, collective surrender, and navigating the city’s evolving nightlife.
In this feature, Karmerr reflects on the instinctive process behind her mixes and the emotional architecture that shapes her sets. Moving fluidly between roles as a DJ, writer, producer, and vocalist, their approach to sound is guided as much by feeling as it is by intention. Rooted in the textures and contradictions of Johannesburg’s nightlife, Karmerr speaks about storytelling through music, the responsibility of participating in the city’s culture, and the delicate balance between individual expression and collective release on the dancefloor.
Your sets feel intuitive but never accidental. There’s a sense of emotional pacing that moves beyond genre. When you’re building a mix, especially for something like Raving in Johannesburg, are you thinking in terms of narrative, energy architecture, or something more instinctive and bodily?
It depends when and where I’m playing. For live gigs, I’m definitely considering the energy architecture of the space, and potential scenarios, as I dig. When it comes to recording mixes, the narrative possibility increases somewhat. Sometimes I’ll have a specific feeling I want to play with or a certain tune I want to base things off of. It’s largely intuitive though and, oftentimes, my deeper emotional state leaks into my selections and style of the moment.
You operate across multiple roles: DJ, writer, producer, vocalist, and your presence feels as important as your selections. How do these different creative identities inform the way you curate sound, and do you see the dancefloor as a site of authorship or collective surrender?
Hmm, being a writer maybe infuses more storytelling into my sets, and producing has certainly refined what I select and how I mix it. Ultimately though, dancing and self-expression shape my curation more than anything. I want to groove and I want to release so I curate experiences that encourage that. Collective surrender feels the most accurate, in that case.
Johannesburg’s electronic scene carries a particular tension, urgency, humor, resistance, and improvisation. How has the city shaped your sonic language, and in what ways do you feel responsible for documenting or disrupting its evolving nightlife culture?
I think what I’m most grateful for is how it shapes me as a person. I am more welcoming, resilient, and creative because of my city - 3 things that are hugely important for any creative pursuit. South African sounds are either very playful, rhythmic, and alive; or dark, dramatic, and repetitive. I’m sure that shows in my sound.
I feel hugely responsible for documenting and sustaining Johannesburg’s nightlife culture in any way I can - showing up, sharing, connecting. Inviting others, speaking on the beautiful things I appreciate about it as well as the hectic underbelly that we cannot escape. There are also aspects that I want to disrupt - casual substance abuse, complacency around certain ideologies and behaviours, “pedestalisation” of certain brands or identities. It’s my responsibility to think critically about what I want to contribute to and endorse VS what I want to reduce and dismantle.
From Bordello at TOYTOY to Brixton Radio, and collaborating with NTS and fabric, your work moves between local intimacy and global platforms. How do you maintain authenticity while navigating visibility, and does scale change the way you approach risk behind the decks?
I maintain authenticity by ensuring that self-expression and love for what I do is at the root of anything I’m involved with. I owe music and the communities surrounding it my life 1000 times over. I have
evolved and grown into myself in ways that younger me thought impossible for a long time. Any chance I get to contribute to the cultures that birthed me is taken with a huge amount of gratitude and respect but I will never contort myself beyond what I’m comfortable with for the sake of an opportunity. Scale is something I welcome but I will still be myself when it finds me.