Resisting patriarchy, homo-social power structures and heteronormative behaviour in the electronic music scene does not necessitate an overtly political musical content; the female artists discussed in this essay reject patriarchy using a wide range of tactics, each individual and appropriate to their practice. They embrace radical independence, refuse to be critiqued according to irrelevant expectations of mainstream media, engage in the cultivation of a female/trans/non-binary supportive community, and produce work that is irrefutably excellent. 

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Eliane Radigue shows a radical independence from the heteronormative hierarchies towering over her in the mid to late 20th century, disrupting the expectation that women must conform to domestic maternal roles regardless of professional ambition, reaching musical prosperity relatively late in life, and creating music with virtuosity and extreme dedication to her artistic vision. ‘I’ve always been digging in the direction where I want to go, without paying any attention to how it was perceived’ (Radigue, 2006). Born in 1932, Eliane Radigue emerged in a time when female ambition in the music industry was severely suppressed, exemplified by her limitation to an assistant role while studying electroacoustic music techniques at the Studio d’Essai in Paris under Pierre Schaeffer and Pierre Henry (Rodgers, 2010). The two Pierres refused to acknowledge Radigue’s experimentation in tape feedback as valid, let alone innovative. After showing Schaeffer her work for the first time in the early 50s, “the only thing nice that he said was, I considered you the best of my assistants, and look at what you are doing!” (Radigue, 2006). Radigue left Studio d’Essai and moved to the United States with her then-husband, the French-born American artist Arman, which put her in contact with more supportive network of artists, including James Tenney, John Cage, David Tudor and Philip Corner (Radigue, 2012). Her musical ambition was curbed for a time as she raised her three children, taking on a single-mother role after separating with Arman and returning to France. But in 1970, with her children fully grown, she met her new ‘love’; the Buchla ARP 2500 synthesiser, in New York City (Radigue, 2006). The Buchla became the instrument that realised her sonic aspirations, allowing her to adjust ring, frequency and amplitude modulations in very small measures using the pentiometers to change the timbral qualities of the sound rather than changing the basic frequency oscillators. 

This method characterises her meditative, slow-evolving sound works, such as her three hour long Trilogie De La Mort, influenced by the Bardo Thodol, the Tibetan book of the dead. Radigue imbues the trilogy with an energy that breathes and pulses, capturing what she calls ‘the spirit’ of the piece (Radigue, 2006). This huge undertaking showcases the extreme patience and meticulous care she gives to her music, layering at least thirty to forty elements in a mix, after months of rumination, to achieve her very particular sonic ideas (Dax, 2012). Not to mention the technical virtuosity required to tame the revered Buchla synthesiser, an instrument often gender-coded as masculine because of its mathematical and technological complexity. So although Radigue’s music isn’t overtly political in its content, it is clear that the trajectory of her career is non-normative. Her career path subverts the patriarchal hierarchy in the electronic music industry and her practice disrupts dominant culture expectations of gender roles in wider society.

The feminist, electro-punk collective Le Tigre (Kathleen Hanna, Johanna Fateman and JD Samson) are a group that overtly engages in feminist/LGBTQI histories and politics with their lyrical content, but their wider practice also engages in smaller, less obvious political acts which are just as valuable. The group formed in 1998, originally as a collaboration between Hanna, Fateman, and video artist Sadie Benning, who was later replaced by JD Samson in 2000. The project started with a drum machine, sampler and keyboard, while Hanna and Fateman ‘slowly [figured] things out’ as they developed their technical skills and understanding (Fateman, 2002). Though Le Tigre are often described as ‘post-riot-grrrl’ (note Hanna’s former involvement in the feminist punk band Bikini Kill), their use of electronic technology in their compositional process, production, and performance practice sets them apart from other electronica or dance music styles. Their lyrical content also characterises their sound, and drives their public engagement with feminist and queer issues. The song Hot Topic, from their self titled album, contains a (very) long list of women that have inspired and influenced them, excerpted below:

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“Tammy Rae Carland and Sleater-Kinney

Vivienne Dick and Lorraine O'Grady

Gayatri Spivak and Angela Davis

Laurie Weeks and Dorothy Allison

Stop, don't you stop

Please don't stop

We won't stop”

Hot Topic (1999), Le Tigre

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The lyrical aspect of their music is a very obvious political engagement, but the group perform smaller political acts in their practice, web presence, and industry involvement that are just as valuable and effective in disrupting patriarchy in the electronic music scene. Le Tigre uses their website to reach out to their fanbase about issues like sexual abuse and coming out as LGBTQI, which raises a political consciousness within a music sphere. They also put energy into nurturing other supportive communities for female/trans/non-binary within the music scene, such as contributing to the online forum Pink Noises, started by Tara Rodgers in 2000. This is in preference to securing a standing within male dominated media circles which often offer a reductive depiction of women in music, as Fateman says: “if there’s gonna be a supporting culture for women to make electronic music, it’s not gonna be by us getting our foot in the door at a magazine! … [that’s] not indicative of a positive feminist community around electronic music.” (Fateman, 2002). And the very act of producing feminist punk music with electronic dance music equipment and processes, without conforming to either of those genres, demonstrates their agency as musicians, whatever their political alignment, gender, or sexuality. 

While South African born, London based Chantal Passamonte might not ‘[sample] George Bush or something’, she insists ‘you can be political in your personal life’, leading by example (Passamonte, 2004). Passamonte’s artistic development demonstrates that her identity as an immigrant female did not limit her ascension through the patriarchal power structures enforced in electronic music, and that skills, ambition, and an authentic artistic voice can surpass gate-keeping structures and dominant culture pressures. Passamonte moved to London in 1991 to pursue the music career that had always seemed so unreachable under the South African sanctions and cultural boycotts she grew up with. In the UK she started out working in a record store, and gradually started getting into organising gigs and DJing, performing under the stage name Mira Calix. She earned a job running publicity for Warp Records and 4AD for a number of years, and after having developed her DJing proficiency to an exceptional level, moved into producing her own music (Rodgers, 2010). Already, the professional diversity in the early stages of her career grants merit, but Passamonte continued to extend her horizons moving into avant garde electronic music production, installation works, video/performance art collaborations, and site-specific commission pieces from museums and institutions across Europe (Passamonte, 2004). Passamonte’s artistic voice is one of ‘textural organicism and coherent eclecticism’, weaving together analog hardware sounds, found sounds, elusive vocals, and wooden and stringed folk instruments, which she collects around Europe (Rodgers, 2010). 

The album Skimskitta (2003) released under Warp Records is an example of Mira Calix’s individualistic voice, with a 30 second long, glitchy opening track Again, It Starts, a playful second track Poussou that pairs a childlike piano and synth sounds with lo-fi beats, and a third track Woody which suddenly falls into an ominous, twitching groove with spooky distant vocals. In an interview with Tara Rodgers, Passamonte reflects upon her separation from the metropolitan scene, now living on a farm with her own studio where she produces music; “humanity doesn’t run at a clock around you, and that’s actually quite nice, it’s quite liberating … I quite like not knowing if it’s a Sunday. Because those things are not relevant to me, ‘cause I’m lucky enough to work for myself, effectively.” (Passamonte, 2004). Passamonte’s departure from commercial success, despite being extremely successful, and her isolation from mainstream media and capitalist values of time and money demonstrate the political choices she has made in her personal life and professional practice. Her success wasn’t achieved by conforming to ‘feminine’ coded roles in electronic music, such as singer or dancer; opportunities were granted to Passamonte because of her excellence, professional dedication and authentic individual voice (Farrugia, 2012). 

Though Radigue, Le Tigre and Passamonte exercise very different practices and approaches towards music composition and production, they all disrupt patriarchy and dominant culture gender roles within electronic music, whether that be through overt musical content or more subtle choices in their practice. In reality, so under-represented are we, that any female/trans/non-binary artist who pursues a career in electronic music and resists mainstream media pressures to conform to ‘feminine’ roles within that sphere, is contributing to a political awareness and rectification of current norms.