A Night Out With Salvala and Maya Rajan

If an American Apparel ad was directed by David Lynch and took place in Berghain. This is a night out with Salvala and Maya Rajan.

The vibe tonight is boots. House. Work. Realness. Salvala is a Brooklyn-based musician with a prolific SoundCloud profile. She’s in her early twenties. While she’s fresh to the New York nightlife scene, she’s already garnered a passionate, close-knit following of club kids and Internet celebs. Her charm is rooted in talent and tenacity. Growing up, she made music from her bedroom in Texas and Oklahoma, cultivating an online presence aligned with her artistic identity. Her little corner of the Internet – and world – is a blown-out, bass-driven one. She represents a new wave of club kids, tired of being onlookers, and venturing behind the DJ booth and into the studio.

I met Salvala at the launch of the music video for her equally haunting and hypnotic single, APPLE. APPLE is an immersive, sexy track that deftly blurs the lines between Pop and ambient. The accompanying video, directed by filmmaker Maya Rajan, is a gorgeous, gritty tribute to New York: a testament to the power of friend-sourced artistic endeavors. APPLE is 25 year-old Maya Rajan’s first foray into music video direction. Since graduating from Colorado College in 2022, her profile has consisted mostly of documentary-style, narrative film. She uses her work to celebrate and explore counterculture, specifically queer nightlife. She’s in post-production on a documentary about Glasgow’s club community that she directed in 2022, following a film profiling two drag queens and their work at Colorado Springs’ Club Q in 2019. The launch event was held at Partisan Records’ Mews Space and began as the sun was going down. Well-dressed attendees milled about the sidewalk outside, chatting and sipping on seltzers. We were ushered inside as the video began, projected onto one of the warehouse’s tall, empty walls. The energy shifted immediately. The room became electric. As audience members watched the visual landscape unfold, it was clear that there was something special happening.

When I reached out to Salvala and Maya for an interview, I was picturing a coffee. Maybe, at most, the three of us would stroll around Prospect Park. Instead, I was invited on a night out. We picked a Saturday in early September, and I agreed to meet them at Maya’s around 10:00 pm. It was still hot in the city, so the four flights of stairs up to her apartment were gruelling. Inside, Salvala and Maya, certified cool girls dressed in variations on black, netted club attire, were on an L-shaped couch finishing up an order of dumplings from a nearby Thai restaurant.

Maya’s Apartment, Saturday, September 7, 10:00pm

Salvala: I’m definitely leaning away from the word producer. It puts you in a box, you know? I think I would say I’m a musician.

Do you feel like that’s been a recent shift?

Salvala: I’ve just realized that at the heart everything that I do, I’m an artist first. I’ve always been an artist. When I started making music, it was about getting to the point where I could make art in the way that I want to, and in a form that I was not used to. I’ve been working at that since I was a teenager, and now I feel like I’m there.

What was your artistic expression like when you were a teenager?

Salvala: I drew. And then I found out that you can be one of those people that makes the songs. And then I was like, oh, I want to do that.

You’re soundtracking your life and then you’re like… wait, I can be a part of that.

Salvala: Exactly. I used to be a kid that would make playlists that had specific covers and musical arcs on Spotify. I really just wanted to tracklist things that were my own, but I didn’t know that.

So, it’s kind of narrative for you.

Salvala: Oh, absolutely.

Do you think that the visual art you used to do is aligned at all with your music?

Salvala: I still do it, but it’s different now. I like monsters and horror, so I draw these seven foot tall, like skinny, anorexic creatures that are kind of creepy looking. I think they fit somewhere in the world of my music, but I do see them as two separate entities. I see all my music as taking place in one club, if that makes sense. So I kind of see them as maybe being outside of it. The creatures of the unknown.

What’s the visual, physical landscape of that club? How do you imagine it?

Maya: She has a blueprint.

Salvala: I do have a blueprint. The club is called Black Lung. It’s three rooms. There’s a room that is mainly house music. There’s a room that’s mainly techno, darker, experimental stuff. And then there’s an ambient room that’s kind of on top of everything. So the two rooms are attached, the house room and the techno room. There’s a staircase–I think it’s a spiral staircase, but I’m not certain–that goes up above them and above them is almost a greenhouse, just like a glass enclosed space where all the ambient and noise music happens. And that’s where you end up at the end of the night when you’re so out of it and you’re watching the sun rise and it’s foggy.

Wait, this is kind of amazing. So it’s totally visual and physical for you.

Salvala: Everything that I make exists somewhere in those three rooms.

I’ve kind of experienced that listening to your music. Your recent music is for strutting. It’s house. It’s really fun. And then the ambient stuff feels like a foggy morning, but in this very safe, interesting way.

Salvala: I want some of my ambient stuff to feel uncertain. There’s a goodness to it, but there’s a darkness to it, too. Yeah. Like going out. You can have a good time with your friends, but shit could go so bad.

It’s the dread that comes with being excited for a night out.

Salvala: Exactly. You’re so ready to go out and have fun with my friends, but then you’re also like, what if something happens? That’s what going out as a woman is.

Maya’s Apartment, Saturday, September 7, 10:30pm

Maya: I would say I am a filmmaker first, a cashier second. I’ve been doing film for the past ten years of my life, and it was the medium I gravitated towards pretty early. My stepdad is an editorial hairstylist and photographer, so I got to go to a lot of shoots growing up, and I got exposed to that world really early. From the very beginning, one thing that really drew me to it was the atmosphere of that and just how crazy the energy feels. I wasn’t a sports person growing up, but I do love, like being on a team with people and working with people. Photography can feel like such a solo process, but film is just about doing so much stuff with so many people and the product can never exist without so many people. I think the way [she] talks about her work, and it being very narrative based, helped with the video because there was already a story to tell. And it was just about like finding the visual language for that story, and that’s my favourite part of filmmaking. The first time we met, she had a pitch deck, and I had pulled references of what the song made me think of when I listened to it and we had a bunch of the same images.

Salvala: That was crazy.

Maya: And I mean, I was the biggest internet kid ever. My first social media was Vampirefreaks.com when I was 12 and I was a scene kid. And I feel like my art has definitely been so influenced by online aesthetics, but also just a really wide range of media because I was consuming so much at really formative ages. Historically I’ve been a narrative and doc filmmaker, and it was so fun to delve into this music video world.

Salvala: I think that translated really wonderfully.

How do you feel like that background influenced your process for APPLE?

Maya: Well, I mean, first and foremost, the people from the narrative background built this entire project. Pema Baldwin was our cinematographer and is my long term filmmaking partner. He’s someone I trust so much and can work with really well. Same with Marco T oro, he was the DP for my thesis film. I had worked with Cat Pfingst before, she did PD for a play I assistant directed. No matter what the project is, I just know the most important thing is working with people I really trust and look up to. People that I know will bring constructive feedback to a project. With narrative film, you’re thinking so much about continuity and like, is this dialogue necessary? Am I dumbing it down for the audience? Does this story make sense? Is it working linear? Whereas in a music video, you can get so indulgent with the aesthetics of it and just be like, we’re gonna lean into this because it looks really good. There doesn’t have to be some really deep meaning behind every single shot. It’s about giving a song a visual life it didn’t have before.

When you’re thinking about directing and creating, what does that look like for you in your head?

Maya: Like I said, a lot my art is very informed by online aesthetics and media I’m drawn to, but it’s also very informed by the life I live, what I see and the connections I can draw in my own head. While shooting the Glasgow documentary, I was thinking so much about industry and warehouses and connection between sound and city and that was definitely on my mind for going into the music video. I think as far as my style of directing… I wish I was a little more this way and it’s something I hope to incorporate more, but I’m not a very like, run and gun director. Like, I love spontaneity and there’s always room for that on my sets. But, I am someone who plans really intensely. It’s really important for me to feel like I can visualise what that will be like beforehand.

I think that’s helpful with creative projects. Sometimes you have more freedom within structure.

Maya: Definitely. You’re trying to check your bases and you go into every set being like, I’ve prepared for everything, but something still will go wrong. And as long as you’ve done that mental work, it doesn’t feel as bad being like, fuck it, I’ll probably be fine.

Maya’s Apartment, Saturday, September 7, 11:00pm

We moved into the bedroom where they positioned themselves in front of Maya’s makeshift vanity to start getting ready. I worried that the rhythmic techno coming from the living room speaker would disrupt my recording. As they applied dark eyeliner and donned silver hardware,we talked about their artistic identities, their recent music video release, and the New York club scene.

Tell me how you met.

Maya: One of the subjects in me and Pema’s Glasgow doc is a DJ and producer named Kavari. She became a good friend. I love her, I love her music. She inspires me a lot. She reposted a picture of Salvala, and I just clicked on Salv’s profile and was like, oh…A cool bitch living in Brooklyn…don’t mind if I do. And I followed her. I guess you followed me back.

Salvala: Yeah. I’ve known Kavari through the internet for the longest time, and I think she reposted a shoot that I did with… which one was it?

Maya: It was very Ethel Cain core.

Salvala: Oh, with the dress?

Maya: Yeah.

Salvala: I did this little shoot with my friend in my living room wearing a wedding dress-this 70’s Gunne Sax wedding dress that I have.

Maya: And then probably a month later, I posted to my story being like, I really want to make a music video. Hit me up if anyone needs one. And Salv messaged me, not even asking for a music video. She was just like, oh my God, I don’t think I can make that happen right now, but in the future I would love to do a music video. And I was like, oh, just send me whatever you’re working on and I’d love to hear it. She sent me two songs. Originally we were thinking it would be for the other song, “I like it.” But, I listened to both of them, and I said I would absolutely do either of these videos for free. Like what? It would be my honor to do one of these videos. Then we just decided to do it. We met in February. We were just talking about it today. We met at Chez Alex off the Gates J in Bed-Stuy.

Salvala: I remember walking there. Was it raining?

Maya: Yes!

Salvala: I think I was wearing full camo.

Maya: You were, you were. I was like, where is she?

Salvala: I had camo pants and this giant ass camo jacket I bought in upstate New York, and I waltzed in with my fucking laptop, and I was at this no laptop table.

Maya: Yeah, I remember that distinctly. It was like, the only thing on the table was like the “No Laptop” table sign.

Salvala: And then I showed her my ideas and she was like, bitch, let’s fucking do it. The first idea for everything was the train scene-the tattooing in the train station scene. I came up with that with my best friend, Trey Allen.

How did you film there?

Maya: We waited until it was 2:00 a.m. On a Wednesday.

Salvala: There were literally people working on the other platform, and they didn’t give a fuck.

Maya: And honestly, we weren’t the most bare bones we could be. We had a light on a tripod. We were definitely taking up space. And whenever a train would come, we would all just stand in front of the camera. We had an umbrella turned upside down with all of our shit in it. And we would pull it to the side when people walked by. Yeah, we definitely had no permit. It was grassroots.

Salvala: Completely.

And for the other shots?

Salvala: I grew up using Tumblr hard.

Maya: As did I.

So, you’re both children of the Internet.

Salvala: 100%.

Maya: Our mother.

Salvala: Yes. Tumblr influences so much of what I do all the time. The Tumblr aesthetic of sexual images of gay men was a very influential part of the video because when I wanted to do the wrestling scene, I was like, I want something that’s like, so homoerotic. And like, sexy, but still kind of gives…gritty. I was like, what can be sex, but isn’t sex? And, wrestling is that. But, they can’t just be wrestling, they have to be doing it somewhere. I think originally it was going to be black tar. And then we decided on a pile of dirt. The dirt was the star of the show.

Salvala: The dirt stole the show.

Maya: The dirt came from Home Depot. Getting the thirty pounds of dirt on a tarp out of the basement of that building was so complicated.

Salvala: We shot part of the music video in the basement of All Street Gallery in Chinatown. They have a studio down there and they let us use it, and it ended up being perfect.

Maya: We’re so lucky. When Salv was talking about what she wanted for the video, what I got from it was that all of the shit we’re seeing is what you see in a club being taken out of the club. So it’s the tension of the club, the excitement, the claustrophobia. All of it. But, what if you put that somewhere else?

Salvala: Exactly.

Maya: And even the club scene we have with our big, amazing entourage of actors who are all Salv’s friends or my friends, feels like a club, but then when it’s more of a wide shot, you can just see they’re in this weird space.

Salvala: Specifically at Basement, I find myself at a bunch of these nights where it’s just gay men on top of each other, and I wanted to represent that with wrestling. I wanted to represent the people dancing, but I wanted them to be separate from each other.

Maya: It’s the feeling of being in a club, but it’s not a club.

The world’s a club. It’s interesting that you used the word gritty because I think there’s a really gritty sexuality in this video, and I feel like it exists in your work and also in both of your online presences. Do you feel like the club aesthetic influences you in your day to day, or does it feel separate from your existence as a human being?

Salvala: I feel like it’s fully infected my brain.

Maya: I’m ill. I have club fever right now.

Salvala: There’s a parasite in my brain, and it tells me to go dance with people.

Maya: I texted my partner today. I was like, “Ben, I’m ready to clock in for another shift at the Dance Factory tonight, this is my fucking job now.” I mean, I think as far as some of the aesthetics in the video, like–we’re in my bedroom right now, I have 45 stuffed animals on my bed. I’m not the grittiest person you can imagine, but I see a lot of grit and grime around me living and going out in New York. I’d say the community and play aspects of club life come up a lot in my day to day and the way I want to be with the people around me. Also around core questions like why people interact with people in a certain way. Or how do people learn to interact with the world? How do people learn to make themselves comfortable in the world? That’s such a huge part of club culture and also filmmaking. That video at its core is all about connection. There’s no part where someone’s alone in the video besides Salv’s lip sync.

Salvala: Yeah. That same feeling that you get at the club when you are on the dance floor and you are one with every single person that is around you, is the exact same feeling that happened on set with everybody that we were working with. It was like dancing. It’s like we were all dancing together but for hours and it passed by so quickly because everyone just wanted to be there so much.

Maya: At the end of shooting, we were all like, I’m scared to go home. I don’t want to be alone in my room right now.

Salvala: Everybody took Ubers together.

How long was the shooting process?

Maya: It was a total of three days.

Salvala: Yeah, it was really quick.

Maya: They weren’t full twelve-hour days. They were like six to seven hour shoots and they were overnight like they started at six and ended like two or three.

Salvala: I think our longest day was day three, and that was only because we had to do the Subway shoot at night and we had to make sure nobody was going to be there.

Then you guys had a launch party. How did the launch party come about?

Maya: Well, we knew while we were making the video we were like, we want to do a party. That’s such a huge thing in general with releasing art. It’s so weird to put your entire life into something and then just post it on the internet. And you’re like, “Okay, this is all up to algorithms and it’s not even about how good the product is, it’s just about how people get access to it.” It can feel really anticlimactic to pour yourself into something and then just have no physical celebration of it. So we always wanted to do it.

Salvala: That party was for us. That party was solely for the people who made this video and my friends to dance around and have fun and hang out with each other.

What was it like to present the product?

Maya: I don’t remember. I anxiety-blacked out.

Salvala: Freaky. Yeah. Freaky. I make my music in my bed. Hunched over my laptop in my bed. To have something that I made in my bedroom in Texas two years ago exist in its final form with a visual that is exactly what I envisioned for it. Something that I have built so many lifelong relationships from…all that I felt was love. For just every single aspect of every single thing that was happening.

Maya: The whole process was so validating of this idea that you don’t have to be networking to get the shit you want. You just naturally meet people you gravitate towards and people who fuck with the same things as you and they want to help you out. People want to be doing stuff together. I had sent the video to my friend, Max Lavinsky, and he works for Partisan Records. I had done some behind the scenes stuff for Partisan Records before, so I had a little bit of a relationship with them. And he told me they had just started this artist space that is completely free to use and that he would love to help us put it on. It was an amazing space.

Salvala: It was perfect. It’s exactly what we were looking for. I was so thankful. I think I told Max thank you six million times that night.

What does it feel like to be done? I feel like it’s that theater kid thing of, “What do I do with my life now?”

Maya: No, totally. Every time a project ends, it’s like, waitttt what’s my purpose? What?

Salvala: Yeah, I had a little bit of that, but I feel like I’ve also, kind of just ramped up myself. I’ve been working on a lot of new stuff and been working with people, which is not something that I’m used to doing. Through this process, I learned that collaboration is something that is really important to me, and I didn’t know that because I had never been able to do that before. So now I have met other people that make music, and I’m getting to work with those people. I literally texted Maya the other day and I was like, so do we just like, do another video now?

Maya: I was like, “Duh.”

Salvala: Obviously.

The world needs it.

Maya: The answer must be yes. One thing I realised the other day is that the release is the screening I’ve ever been to of my own that I was sober at. Anytime we had a screening in college, I’d be like six White Claws deep to go into the screening because it’s so fucking stressful to share your work, and I don’t drink anymore, so I was actually feeling the worst I could ever feel going into it. But also, it was the first time that I got the actual anxiety relief of really soberly watching people respond to it and watching it land. And being like, oh. Oh, wow. Okay. This feeling is now gone. I’m relieved of this because it’s in someone else’s hands now. And it’s not just this thing I was holding.

Salvala: That day was so stressful.

Maya: Neither of us ate.

Salvala: I remember being like, oh my God, first of all, I’m going to be projected onto a wall. What the fuck? No. My face, big. All these people are gonna hear something that I have kept to myself for so long, and then I have to then perform in front of them. It was so vulnerable. And I had never done anything live before.

What was the response like?

Salvala: Pretty great. Overwhelmingly positive.

Salvala: It’s been really weird to see the kind of mainstream-ification of the kind of music I’ve been consuming for years.

Brat summer.

Salvala: Brat summer. Insane. I remember being in high school listening to Charli XCX because, I mean, one of my biggest inspirations ever is SOPHIE. 100%. And I only got into Charli XCX because I loved SOPHIE so much. And seeing something that I have loved and this kind of world that I have loved of PC music and, I hate to say hyper pop, but hyper pop become more of a mainstream thing has been really weird.

Maya: I know. Well, first, I just know an inherent part of myself is being a gatekeeper, and it’s not a good part of myself, but I must acknowledge it. I definitely feel that very heavily. I think a lot about the commercialisation of electronic music in general. House and techno were Black genres and they were led by mostly queer people and to see EDM culture get huge and have it become this festival-oriented culture. I don’t know if it’s a bad thing, but it does give me almost this capitalist anxiety of like, this was such a community driven genre and it still is at its roots and everything catching up to the mainstream came from DIY scenes. And people just poured all of their own time, money, resources into doing the art that they knew was really good art. It’s amazing to see those people who pioneered these genres get the recognition that they deserve. But at the same time, I do believe the history of the genres is so political and really important and they have such rich histories that oftentimes get lost in the commercial side of everything.

Salvala: That’s why we need to talk about Renaissance by Beyoncé. Because she not only sampled these works, bringing them to new life and still keeping the integrity of them and like. Bringing life and bringing money and bringing attention to these people that deserve it. And who pioneered these genres. I’m eternally inspired by that album. APPLE would not exist without that album. I listened to Renaissance by Beyonce daily before I made that song.

I can hear that.

Salvala: It was Renaissance. It was Salvador by Sega Bodega, the album, and it was “Vogue” by Madonna. AI wanted to merge those three worlds and kind of put it into one song.

Maya: Wait also, I think a huge important piece of context for the video is the logline that Salv gave me was, “If an American Apparel ad was directed by David Lynch and took place in Berghain.” Even if there were no pictures, if there were no references given, and it was just that sentence, we would have ended up with something similar.

Salvala: That was entirely where my mind was at. How can I merge Tumblr and also like places like Basement in New York the surrealism of film that I love so much and try to make it into onebig baby, because this club that I’ve created in my brain is very surrealistic. I see it as a film in my head, and it’s not like it’s narrative, but it’s very Inland Empire vibes.

Leyla: Speaking to what you’re talking about with the capitalisation of this history, I feel like that is something that’s cool about APPLE is that it’s community organised.

Maya: Yeah, I mean, it’s a full DIY effort. Like there’s nothing bigger behind the song or the video besides the people involved.

Salvala: There was no budget. I’m not a nepo baby. I don’t have money.

Maya: Also, I do think in general – my roommate, Natasha, was talking about this today. New York is this place associated with creative people coming here and being able to make money off of being creative which is great because you have so many people coming who want to be doing stuff. But I am not a full freelance person because I don’t want to start hating the art I make. I don’t want my monetary comfort to be based on the stuff I make, because I want to be able to make what I want to make and not make stuff that just makes money, at this point in my life, I feel really passionate about having my art be my art and not my financial backing.

And then it stays, your art. You don’t have to sell it.

Salvala: You don’t have to sell your soul for it. I have held off on putting music out for so long because I wanted to feel like I was putting my whole pussy into it. That was really important to me. I didn’t want to half ass anything. Which is why APPLE never came out when it could have. It’s been a mastered song for two years. I wanted a video, and I wanted this video, and I got it.

Did you do APPLE alone?

Salvala: Yeah. I made it. I made it in my bed in Texas. I mean, all my music I make in my room alone. I’ve only been in a studio as of the past month, and it’s just kind of where I’ve happened to end up on accident. It’s been insane because I’m seeing people who are music producers doing the exact same thing that I’m doing alone in my bedroom, but they’re just sitting at a desk doing it instead. And I’m sitting here judging myself for not being in a studio all the time when it’s the same shit.

Maya: Literally. I couldn’t imagine making a music video for so long because I didn’t have a bunch of my own money to put into something I wanted to make. And then you find out people are just down to help and you can just do it. You can just do it.

Salvala: That’s something I really learned is… if you want to do something, you can just do that thing. You don’t have to put too much thought into it. And I wouldn’t have learned that if it wasn’t for Maya.

Maya: I love not putting too much thought into it.

As Maya and Salvala finished their makeup, we checked the bus schedules, bracing ourselves for the journey ahead. There was palpable excitement in the air, and, of course, just a touch of dread.

Maya’s Apartment, Saturday, September 7, 11:45pm

Where are we going?

Salvala: We’re going to Basement, which is kind of where I end up finding myself a lot of the time. It’s kind of homebase. Some of the worst things that have happened to me in that place. Some of the best things have happened to me in that place. I end up there more than I would like to admit. It’s only a little cringe, but I like it there. I feel like there’s a community there that I have found and have made really close connections with. People who frequent that place that mean the world to me, and that I love dearly. We’re going there tonight because it’s a very integral part of my lore and an integral part of Apple’s lore and this whole project’s lore. The club that my music exists in is so based on Basement and the layout that they have and the kind of things that they do there and the people that play.

Maya: The night tonight is a vinyl night, which is super cool and just like really exciting and super different from most club spaces I’m going to. I feel like when people talk about basement, there’s so much mystique and so much you won’t get in at the door. In my head before I ever went, I thought it would just be this kind of snotty club where everyone who’s there like, thinks that they’re better than other people because they, got into this club, blah, blah, blah. But then you’re there and the space itself feels so hypnotic. Sometimes I’m in there and it just feels like I’m hearing the amplification of my heartbeat and I find myself feeling really grounded in that space.

Salvala: It has a way of taking you in.

Maya: It’s immersive. It’s not a club you go to just to be seen. They also don’t allow photos or videos which makes it feel like a safer space.

Do you feel like it feels super different than other New York clubs?

Salvala: Absolutely. I think I think they’re really doing something that is different. And I’ve been there on nights where it wasn’t the night that I would have preferred it to be, but, you consistently are at least going to get a baseline of very, very good.

Maya: She’s there for you.

Salvala: It’s the place where everyone ends up.

Basement Club, Saturday, September 7, 12:30am

Tell me about the vibe tonight.

Salvala: The vibe tonight is cunt. Boots. House. Work. Pussy. Realness.

Maya: I second.

What do you love about Basement?

Maya: I love that it feels like a place where everyone is here for a reason. Everyone’s here to commit to being here. Which I love. You feel very much like you’re part of something bigger than yourself when you’re here because everyone is in it together.

Salvala: Everyone’s here for the music. They’re not here to network. That happens, yeah, but it happens very naturally. It’s connection. It’s friendship. I’ve made plenty of friends at these picnic tables and I think the vibe is very pure here, and that’s why I like it so much. I also like that theyhave such a big section where people can just congregate and have community and just talk for as long as you want. I’ve had nights where I’ve spent the entire night at Basement out here.

Maya: And I also feel like inside it’s really nice to be in a space where you can have space to move freely. A lot of clubs in New York are just packed into one room and it kind of feels like you’re at a concert and not a club night because everyone’s just in a crowd and you can’t really dance.

Salvala: No one’s worried about seeing the DJ. You don’t have to see the DJ. It’s not important.

Maya: Which I feel like at its core is like what club culture used to be. Clubs used to be that the DJ was on the floor. Not in some high up booth. A DJ was soundtracking your night, but it’s still your night. And clubs have turned into coming to watch a DJ like a concert. And I have totally had nights like that where it’s a DJ I’ve admired for so long and I want to see them like it’s a concert, but here they’re playing the music and they’re the ones creating the energy, but everyone else carrying the energy, and it’s about dancing with people on the floor.

Salvala: There’s no pressure anywhere. It’s very freeing. You can move about the cabin, if you will. Wherever you want to go.

Leyla: Seatbelts off.

Basement Club, Saturday, September 7, 1:30am

How do you guys see the current scene in New York music wise and club wise? Where do you see yourselves fitting in now and in the next year or two?

Maya: I’ve been thinking about this a lot–and this isn’t me criticizing your question–but, I think that in general when people talk about, like, the “scene” in New York, it ends up feeling really reductive because there are so many scenes happening simultaneously. Like there’s not just one music scene. You can be at a show where you’re like, oh, everyone I know knows about this show. And then half the people you know are at something else.

Salvala: You can be at a show where one set is one genre and then the next set is a different genre, and I love that. I think that’s so cool. Everyone’s just kind of doing their own thing and everyone’s enabling each other.

Maya: There’s so much variety. In New York, you can find any night. You can go to a drum and bass night, you can go to an Italo disco night. And there will be people there. And there will be people, like showing up to fucking dance. Like it’s because that’s what they want to do there. There’s always space to do something new. There’s certain nights at Elsewhere where they’ll use the entire space, like there’ll be a different act in every zone. And I always love any club that feels like a funhouse. You’re going in and out of these different spaces and you’re getting sucked into it.

Salvala: And I want there to be a place where people can hear crickets. You know what I mean? Like, talk to each other and hear crickets. It’s comforting.

Physical space really does influence mindset and experience so much.

Salvala: Totally. I had to create a fantasy to make sound around so that I felt like it existed somewhere. Before I was so all over the place and I didn’t know what I was doing, and I didn’t know where anything was going, and everything sounded so different. And I was like, no, this is all me. This is all Black Lung. This is all one space.

So, what’s the dream? The five-year dream?

Salvala: What’s the dream? I hope that I can make it a party. I want to work with people who have the same vision that I do for music. I want to create a world where people can live in that dissonance of love and club.

Maya: Damn. Five years. I don’t know. I’m like…five years?! Being a director is such a weird thing. I feel like, historically, the role of director has always been, like, when you think of a director, you think of this man who’s telling everyone what to do. I don’t want to be that. I want to be able to work with people and take something that they’re thinking of and take my influences and build something together. And that’s why Apple felt so good. And that’s what I want to keep on doing, like for the next five years. Like I want to keep working with people who have like something they want to bring to life. And I want to bring that to life.

Salvala: In the next five years, I want to give Maya a budget. I want to give Maya, like an actual fucking budget.

Maya: I also think as a filmmaker, I feel very, very passionate about archiving, and specifically these spaces and people who are leading the charge and making good, original shit. Like I said before, electronic music is born of queerness and of people of color and of these groups from the fringes that really like made it their own and forged their own way. And I feel very passionately about having that at the forefront for the rest of my career. Like working with people who maybe don’t have all the resources in the world to make something happen, but making it happen because people deserve to have something that they feel really good about. Making it possible for the people and communities who are the blueprint for everything that ends up going to the mainstream. I remember talking to Kavari about it in Glasgow and we were talking to her about why she thinks electronic music is so queer. She was talking about how electronic music is this broad genre that can encompass so many different things in the same way that queerness is this broad identity and community that can encompass so many different people and like, I feel like you can almost say that about every genre of music, but with electronic music specifically, like thinking about samples and old stuff and remixes, you’re always drawing from a history but there’s freedom.

Salvala: You can do whatever you want.

Maya: I feel like in other genres, sometimes deviation is looked down upon. It’s like, no, like that’s not real rock music. That’s not real rap music. But electronic music is endless.

Salvala: I love electronic music. I love the energies and the sounds that people create. I want to be able to take those kind of weirder sounds and weirder textures and flip them on their head and make them pop. Because I love pop music, too. I’m trying to merge those worlds in my world.

Maya: Pop music has just gotten such a bad rap in the past decade. And it’s so back. And you’re helping lead the charge.

Salvala: Pop music is the most diverse genre of music, I think, currently available to listeners. I think the people who are really diversifying that genre is like women in particular. Women know what we’re fucking doing. We know what we’re fucking doing. And we’re playing.

Maya: This project was such a practice of play. We’re both such perfectionists. It’s scary to let go and make something, but you can also just involve the people you love and the thing you want to do and listen to your intuition.

Salvala: You can just feel like you’re five again and have fun and it will work out and it will be good, and it will be a work of art that people care about.

As we re-entered the club, winding through the sea of dancing bodies, Salvala turned back to look at me. With an almost desperate urgency, she gripped Maya’s hand. “Put this in,” she said, “Maya changed my life.” Maya grinned at Salvala, the beginning of a long creative collaboration tangible in the space between them.

“Salv changed mine,” she said.