Music
The Mix 066: Hannah Holland
The London queer scene stalwart captures the otherworldliness of a night out with her mix and talks to Megan Townsend about taking inspiration from David Lynch, her early electroclash fascination and wanting to create something "unapologetically dyke" for her latest album and film
Having spent close-to-25-years straddling the junction between film and underground club culture, Hannah Holland's new album and music film combo 'Last Exit On Bethnal' feels like a full circle moment. Over the years she's held residencies at some of the UK's most iconic LGBTQIA+ parties, with Holland's dedication to her craft rightfully placinh her as a beloved figure within London's queer club scene. Primarily, it's the unpredictability of her DJ sets that have helped her command dancefloors for over two decades; a Hannah Holland set can swing from pared-back, sweaty electro, to fizzling bass, to all-out rave euphoria at a moment's notice.
Holland began visiting clubs in London alongside a school friend when she was in her teens, becoming enraptured with Soho's burgeoning nightlife circuit. Starting off playing bass in a band, Holland recalls a careers lesson in school where, when asked what she plans to take on as a vocation, she answered "a Rockstar!". It was Canadian electroclash pioneer Peaches that led to her fascination with electronic music. "I remember being in my bedroom at my mum's house and buying a Peaches record and just being like, 'What is this!?'," she says. "It was such a mind-blowing moment. Then I'd be trying to figure out where she was playing, it would all be flyers and word-of-mouth back then. No social media." From the early 2000s she's remained a familiar face within the city's queer and experimental scenes, forming roadblock party-turned-imprint Batty Bass alongside vocalist Mama. Residencies at the likes of Trailer Trash, Glastonbury's NYC Downlow and now Adonis have similarly ensured she has remained an integral part of the club scene.
Read this next: "In-your-face party": Why Adonis is doing the queer underground proud
Concurrently, Holland has been embedded in the world of cinema and TV, creating soundtracks for the multi-award winning 2020 indie film Electrician, Channel 4's adult film drama Adult Material and BruceLaBruce's The Visitor and similarly earning esteem within filmmaking. Releases on Super Rhythm Trax, Major Records and Shall Not Fade have allowed her to flex her production skills for a club-orientated setting, but it was the release of her debut album 'Tectonic' on PRAH in 2021 where the lines began to blur; with Holland incorporating manifold influences from the cinema and the dancefloor.
Now, Holland is prepared to release her most ambitious project yet: 'Last Exit On Bethnal'; an album described as a "soundtrack for a fantasy club underworld" with a film accompaniment, directed by filmmaker Lydia Garnett. We sat down with Hannah Holland to discuss the forthcoming project, her thoughts on the transitioning nature of London's queer nightlife scene, and her desire to create a "dyke Sopranos". Read the interview and listen to her "surreal club" mix below.
You’ve spent a lot of time balancing between the worlds of film and underground music; how was it to bring ‘Last Exit on Bethnal’ to life as an EP and short film collaboratively with Lydia Garnett from the get-go?
For it to be a complete collaboration in that way was really important to me. Even when I do film scores, if I'm lucky enough to get involved in the sort of earlier stages of the creation, it helps so much with the writing and music sort of thing. My interests lie in that crossover between film and club music; that's why 'Tectonic' has a cinematic quality to it, among other influences. I love the process of filmmaking, so when it came to creating this album, I knew I wanted to make a film to accompany it.
Can you tell us a bit about where the idea behind the project came from?
I'd created a completely different album, which was supposed to be this record, and I was looking for somebody to work with. Then, suddenly, Lydia contacted me — we'd been fans of each other's work for a while. We started talking ideas, thinking about what's happening in the dyke scene right now – artists like Sweat Mother and Eve Stainton's Impact Driver, even Lydia's work with their Close Shave series. We were like: “Wouldn't it be great to see this kind thing on film?”
It became apparent that the music that I had created for the album wasn't going to suit this kind of project, so I put that on hold to create a new album. It sort of turned into this wild beast. It's very ambitious to make this sort of film and then just decide to create a record — it costs money, you know? Luckily managed to get funding, and people believed in the project.
You started work on the record after filming ended, right? Was it a comfortable place to have that visual starting point?
I approached it like I would a film score. We had ideas before we shot the film, but the inspiration came when I saw the images. The energy on the day and the imagery it was just so special. I'm really glad that I did it that way round.
You had wanted to create something that was “unapologetically for dykes” that isn't often represented in films, right? How did you and Lydia achieve that?
I guess it's how we worked to capture something raw, edgy. Cool. An underground essence. It felt like something was missing in all the research we did into existing works; we were searching for something to reference, and we kept not being able to find it. That's where the
idea came from; we knew that we'd have to make this ourselves.
What was it about the work of Kenneth Anger and Derek Jarman that inspired you?
It's a sort of rebellious, art house, no rules experimental — and just, blatant, pure homosexuality. There are a lot of amazing homosexual films like Lucifer's Rising that are so iconic, but where are the ones for the dykes?
While edgy, 'Last Exit on Bethnal' retains a lot of liminal, mythical energy — was that important to capture?
A lot of what we spoke about in the beginning was queer spaces and how important queer spaces are, how sacred they are. There's so much that happens on dancefloors and in these kinds of spaces that are sacred, but they aren't talked about. We wanted to capture this otherworldly, transformative nature; a good night out can change your life. You’ll remember it forever.
Also, David Lynch is forever, always inspiring. There is obviously a visual reference to the Red Room from Twin Peaks in the film alongside other, more atmospheric nods to his work in the record. Me and Lydia both love The Sopranos too, so we thought: “Wouldn't it be amazing if there was a dyke Sopranos?” You know, when you've got all the characters in the pool hall scene, the way that's graded and shot — it's supposed to be a nod to the backroom of the Bada Bing.
How was it to work on 'Last Exit on Bethnal' following your work on the electronic-focussed soundtrack for last year's The Visitor?
It was so inspiring to work with Bruce LaBruce. He is one of the most inspiring people that I've ever met. He's so badass and so knowledgeable; he just doesn't give a shit. The way the film came about was spontaneous; it wasn't this traditional way of making film, it's so political and experimental. It was amazing to be around that, which definitely gave me the confidence to be able to go off and create something new.
You brought on quite a few musicians from within London's queer club community to work on The Visitor. Is it important to bring those people in?
So Bruce LaBruce wanted all the sex scenes to be soundtracked by techno; so all of the techno tracks in there were created before the film – tracks that were already out or maybe not released yet. But yeah, to be able to have collaborations with all my mates basically [laughs]. I mean, the London queer scene is full of amazing talent, so whenever I get to work with people, I love it.
Does it feel like a full circle moment to be intertwining those worlds so much? Ie, creating soundtracks with dance music influences/creating music inspired by soundtracks?
Definitely. When I left school when I was like 17, I got a job as a runner in Soho, and I was working on music videos and things like that. Running around and making tea for people. A few years later, in my early 20s I guess, I started making experimental music videos and short films, all alongside me making music and DJing a little bit. So to be able to come from that place and then come back to it, 20-odd years later... There are so many full-circle things happening. I always have to be like: “No, you do have a lot of experience,” because there's so much to learn all the time. But there's always new music, new things, and I think my hunger for it all is always the same. It feels like a special moment.
You started out playing bass as a teenager, right? When did you realise you wanted to be a musician?
I started playing bass in my gay best mate's band, he was in the year above me at school – I think I was 13 and he was 14. He discovered Soho and was going to these bars, so I would kind of sneak out and go out with him. He was an amazing songwriter, and we played gigs in Camden, all over London. So from a very early age, I was visiting this world.
You’ve been involved in the alternative and queer club scene in London since the mid-naughties, right? Can you tell us a bit about your first steps as a DJ?
There was a scene in London around 2001/2002, very informed by Berlin and New York. It was electroclash basically [laughs]. In the early days of it, Miss Kittin, DJ Hell, Erol Alkan, Jamie Lazarus and there were a few parties, club nights that were playing this music, and Peaches was a big part of that.
There were only a few clubs that were playing that music, and it was so special. It felt like a continuation of what people like Princess Julia, Taboo and Jeffrey Hinton were making in the '80s; punks, New Romantics and queer people all coming together. It was a really interesting mix of people in those clubs, and the music was incredible. I'd been really into like drum 'n' bass and breaks, I had friends who were DJs who played techno too, but it was missing that punky, queer element. I was just obsessed. I was at Nag Nag Nag every Wednesday for months, I met so many people that I'm still friends with, and work with.
How has it been to witness these different stages of London's queer scene in the last 20-something years?
The ultimate thing that happens, it always changes. It has real lulls as well, where people feel that not much is going on. There was a point in the late-00s where I moved to Berlin, I felt that's where the energy was — London felt oversaturated. Then I came back because this whole new thing had come up again, spaces like Dalston Superstore opening, there was a new energy, new parties. There's always these waves, but I think the thing that has changed clubbing the most is — whereas it used to be weekly, every week you'd go to a different club night and it would be cheap, a fiver to get in, cheap drinks. But now, the cost of everything has changed, and things are monthly. You needed that before because you didn't have social media; it provided that interconnectivity between people. The way that we connect has changed massively, so that's the real big difference.
Honestly, at the moment, though, I've never seen it more healthy. Incredible new clubs are opening all the time, interesting scenes, music, looks, and ways people are doing things. Collaborating with art movements. It's really at a point of experimentation. I think it's an amazing time in London. I think if you know where to look, scratch the surface, you'll find it. Though the things that are really in jeopardy are the venues, we have a crisis with rent. But then there are these collectives of people, communities that are continuing to do things regardless. There's a part of it that comes from the conversations people were having online during COVID. So many young people have been armed with this knowledge and want to change things for the better. It might not be in the same venues all the time, but they will just move them somewhere else.
There are many figures in the London/UK queer club scene that would say you are their “favourite DJ”, how does it feel to have that kind of draw after decades?
It's very humbling [laughs]. I feel very honoured, it's just a beautiful thing to hear. I think it's just that I have such a dedication to the scene because it's so important to me, it's full of the most creative people that you can get in a room. That's what's inspirational, that's what drives me — DJing is all about the exchange with the dancefloor for me, it's a constant conversation. So it's an honour to do it.
Can you tell us about your Mix?
The mix is an extended soundscape of the fantasy film score to 'Last Exit On Bethnal, imagining the feature length film version. A surreal club soundscape accessing those fragments of memories and the otherworldliness of a night out.
Hannah Holland's album 'Last Exit on Bethnal' and accompanying film from Garnett, is out on July 18. Pre-order here.
Megan Townsend is Mixmag's Deputy Editor, follow her on Twitter
Tracklist:
Hannah Holland 'Radio K'
Actress and The London Contemporary Orchestra 'Momentum'
Marc Houle 'On It'
Curses 'Puttanesca'
Hannah Holland 'Intertwine'
Actress 'Falling Rizla'
Colleen 'Another World'
Sega Bodega 'Coma Dennis'
Hannah Holland 'Dreamz'
Hannah Holland 'Eat Me' (Awkard Moments Remix)
Hannah Holland 'Drive Me'
Cosey Fanny Tutti 'Selflessness (Part Four)'
Hannah Holland 'Roxy'
Hannah Holland 'Club Kim'

