Bianca Oblivion on the 808 and 909's Influence on the Queer Ballroom Scene

An LA native whose dance music career has now taken her across the globe, Bianca Oblivion is one of the hottest up-and-coming DJs on the global scene right now.

She’s made a name for herself by fusing a diverse range of genres into her high-octane sets. Catch a Bianca Oblivion anywhere around the world, and you’re just as likely to hear hip-hop and R\&B as you are dubstep and grime. Oblivion’s mantra is “anything goes as long as it bangs”.

Outside of the booth, Oblivion’s been releasing music on notable labels like N.A.A.F.I, Magic City, Future Bounce, and Warp Records’ Lucky Me imprint for years. Her track EZ 4 Me even landed in the EA Sports FC 24 soundtrack. Back of the net!

As a promoter, Oblivion runs Warp Mode alongside Star Eyes and AK Sports, an LA party providing a consistent platform for femme, non-binary, queer and POC artists. It’s quickly become a beacon for low-end freakers from Southern California and beyond.

This Pride Month, we sat down with Bianca Oblivion to talk about the hardware sounds that resonate with ravers, how digital music production has opened the door to a wider diaspora of voices in the global electronic scene, and how the sonic fingerprints of the queer ballroom movement can be found across popular music today.

Why do you think the sound of the Roland TR-808 continues to resonate with dancefloors in the US and UK? Why don’t ravers get tired of the sound?

Both UK and US dance music have deep roots in Jamaican soundsystem culture, and it’s that raw energy and reverence for the low end that has carried through into the many genres that evolved from it. From hip hop to jungle, and from Miami bass to trap and drill, the instrument that has shaped the sound and culture of these genres is the Roland TR-808, both in its physical form and as a plug-in.

Its booming bass was, and still is, the backbone of low-end-driven music. Entire genres have been built from different patterns and combinations of its signature rimshots, cowbells, and snares.

While contemporary dance music may sound different to the casual listener, many of these defining sounds can still be found in the majority of tracks released today. Producers may not even be aware of their origins, especially when using sample packs or plugins where the sounds have been resampled or heavily processed.

I don’t think ravers will ever tire of these sounds, not only because we’ve become so accustomed to them, but because they’re now tied to the broader legacy of dance music itself. They’ve become timeless tools that can be adapted across countless contexts and genres.

Electronic music is often about transformation; how has the ability to shape and manipulate these iconic sounds allowed you to express your own identity as a producer?

With producers using sample services like Loopcloud, popular sounds and sample packs now appear in countless songs released every day. Because of this, transformation and manipulation have become essential tools for developing your identity as a producer. It’s no longer just about what sounds you use, but how you reshape them into something personal and unique.

In my own production, I use a lot of filters, LFOs, reverb, arpeggiators, and distortion to create drama, tension, and movement that can really drive a track forward. I constantly fuse sounds and rhythms from different genres. Drawing from traditional diasporic sounds – Afro, Latin, South Asian – alongside regional UK and US club influences: hardcore, jungle, Jersey club, Baltimore club, and ballroom. Always pushing them into new territory through manipulation and processing.

A vocal sample, for example, can be chopped, stretched, and pitch-shifted until it becomes an instrument in itself. Even something as subtle as changing the length of an 808 or removing a single drum hit can completely alter the mood and energy of a song.

Transformation also comes through combining and layering sounds, which is something I do often in my music. Whether it is layering drums and percussion while refining them with compression and transient shaping, or stacking synths and treating each one differently to balance brightness and atmosphere, these choices help shape the emotional character of a track. Through manipulating and combining sounds in these ways, I’m able to create music that reflects my own identity and influences rather than simply reproducing familiar sounds.

With instruments moving from rare hardware to accessible software, how do you think this helps more diverse voices get involved in production?

The shift has opened music production to people who previously would not have had the opportunity to participate. It has also transformed the context in which production takes place.

Studios filled with recording equipment, racks of synths, drum machines, and instruments can now exist entirely within a computer. This dramatically lowers the barrier to entry for music production, enabling people from a wide range of social and economic backgrounds, including those in rural communities or with limited resources, to create music.

In turn, this accessibility allows regional scenes and distinctive local sounds to emerge and develop in ways that were previously far less possible.

How do the sounds of classic electronic instruments act as a common language between the different queer collectives and scenes in the US?

Since its emergence in the late ’70s, the ballroom community has developed one of the most iconic and recognizable sonic identities in dance music, influencing scenes far beyond the queer communities and collectives that created it. Vogue anthems like Masters at Work’s The Ha Dance employed sounds from the Roland TR-909, with its driving drums and metallic snares and claps signalling the “crash”, the moment when voguers would drop to the floor for a dramatic dip.

Just as those sounds carried into pop music during that era – most notably in Madonna’s Vogue, an homage to New York’s ballroom scene – we continue to hear these elements in pop music today, from Beyoncé’s Renaissance to FKA twigs’ Sushi and Teyana Taylor’s WTP, which samples Junior Vasquez’s Work This Pussy, driven by the deep subs and punchy drums of the Roland TR-808 and the squelchy bassline of the Roland TB-303.

Producers like MikeQ, Byrell the Great, and Vjuan Allure (R.I.P.) have continued the legacy of the ballroom sound, using these instruments while developing new sounds and samples that influence a new generation of producers worldwide, many of whom incorporate elements from their own cultures and communities.