On the final night of this year’s Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival, performing before hundreds of revelers at the center of a glowing pyramid, DJ Sara Landry reached a Zen state.
With eyebrows furrowed, she leaned into the decks, spinning an operatic techno mashup from the turntables and orchestrating the ebb and flow of fans’ bodies. The 32-year-old Mexican American DJ, also known as “The High Priestess of Techno,” performed with Blood Oath: a collective of female DJs that includes DJ Jenna Shaw, LP Giobbi, Tokimonsta and Mary Droppinz, all of whom Landry assembled as her personal Avengers. As she handed over the decks to DJ Shaw, Landry’s stern visage eased into a blissful smile.
Known for her witchy black wardrobe and heavy industrial production, Landry has emerged as a power player in the dance music scene — catalyzed by a viral 2023 Boiler Room setthat now counts 10 million views. In it, Landry played her original song “Legacy,” a heavenly vocal track banging her head as she unraveled a soundscape that called to mind an ethereal alien planet. With one prophetic line from a vocal sample, Landry set her career in motion: “No one can stop me now.”
Landry had just graduated from NYU when she began DJing at local bars in her hometown of Austin, Texas. Her love affair with the art form began in 2014, when she was still working as a bartender in New York City; enthralled by the local nightlife, she cut her teeth promoting events and studying her favorite DJs.
“After [going to] college in New York and experiencing the underground DJ scene there, I moved back into my childhood bedroom in my mom’s house in true Hispanic fashion,” she tells De Los before her Coachella set. Landry recalls a particular night when she watched, entranced, as a friend mixed on turntables — it was the moment that convinced her to buy her first board (on Amazon, no less).
Just the day before Coachella, Landry was finalizing some new material in her home studio in Amsterdam before flying to California. Many people in Landry’s place would be exhausted — and on some level, she was — but she was still hungry to create.
“No matter how I’m feeling, I just get up there, I put my headphones on and I’m ready to rock,” Landry said. “Nothing else really matters except what’s happening on the CDJs and in the crowd in front of me.”
Between maintaining her own record label, Hekate — named after the Greek goddess of witchcraft — and her all-female DJ series, Blood Oath, Landry tears open a new definition of what it means to be a DJ ruled by herself.
How did growing up in Austin’s music scene shape your career? I started going to shows around Austin by myself when I was 15 or 16. I saw Skrillex, Nero and Dead Mau5 a bunch, plus DJs at underground venues since I had a fake ID. (Shh, don’t tell anybody!) I started by watching from the other side of the rail that I’m on now.
I got a very respectable, but terribly boring day job, because I talked my way into the interview and was like, “Yeah, I can totally do data analytics.” [I had] no experience with data analytics whatsoever.
Living with my mom helped me to save and focus, paying off my student loans and the incredible debt I racked up on DJ gear … I do not recommend running up a bunch of credit card debt to start a music career.
[But] I did all the stuff. I did a small bar on Tuesday nights for 40 bucks. You know, when nobody was there. It’s been really cool as my career has grown, the scene has developed out of Austin in tandem with me.
You make a point to talk about Latino causes online. Why is it so important for you to represent your Mexican heritage? I’m not a politician and I’m not an expert, but I do have empathy for people who are just trying to work hard and make a better life. I don’t think that they should be rounded up and put into camps, which is basically what the current administration has been doing.
My ties to my heritage are super interesting. My grandma was born in Mexico City and so that whole side of my family is Mexican.
I grew up with my mom showing me all sorts of types of music and speaking Spanish around me, so I can speak pretty good Spanish. Like, I love Bad Bunny. I love his music. People are always very surprised that I speak Spanish and love all kinds of Latin music, like reggaeton.
I have a white father, so I’m pretty pale and everybody thinks that I am fully white. As a second- or third-generation kid, if you “grow up white” or not as connected to the culture, it can feel strange to claim the identity because people question you.
I love Latino culture and I always want to represent. I kind of want to bring chiles into Amsterdam to make Mexican food, but I don’t think Dutch customs would let me.
Do you feel like your Latino side inspires your music at all or your approach to your career? My Latino side does influence and impact me, the music I listen to and the music I make. I mean, how do you think I have this rhythm? [Laughs]
I love tracks that sort of bounce. I did a track last week and I was like, “I think this needs some baile funk drums.” So I threw that in. I like to bring that sense of rhythm and groove into techno wherever I can. I have a folder of Latin techno tracks that are specifically with Spanish vocals or Latin percussion. Whenever I’m in South America, or if I’m just feeling it, I like to run into that folder and I’ll bust all that s— out.
I’ve been experimenting for a while now, but everybody still thinks that I do just hard techno and I [haven’t] for a couple years. When you play a hundred shows a year, you’re like, “How do we keep it feeling fresh?”
Do you ever feel that terms like “hard techno” can be a little limiting to your music? Definitely. I don’t know what to call the music I’m making because it’s such a sonic quilt. I have all of these genres of music that I like to listen to and types of music that exist under hard dance that I like to play when I’m in the studio, which I am right now. I have been for the last three months straight.
I’m in the process of making an album. I don’t know when I’ll be done with it, but I feel like I’ve warmed up in the studio again, which is an amazing feeling. My favorite place to be, if not the stage, is the studio.
Why was that so important for you to create platforms like your record label, Hekate, then your female DJ event series Blood Oath? Where do you see it going next? When I was starting out, you couldn’t really start your career without getting music released and having music signed by a reputable label.
I was isolated as this American girl in Texas with no connection to the European scene. [It was] difficult to get people to listen to my music or to sign [me]. Even if they would, they’d have requests or changes, but I’m impatient and a Virgo. I can veer on being controlling in some ways and I thought, “I’d rather just deal with this myself and have full creative control.”
For Blood Oath, it started when I was at my birthday party in 2024 with a small group of friends. My agent, Bailey, brought a DJ controller for us. We were all just chilling, vibing, laughing, so she got up, went over to the decks, and started ripping a nasty drum-and-bass set.
We all took turns and had so much fun that I asked Simon Kessler (from the Insomniac booking group) if we could do a back-to-back set there. A month later, we did the set, and it was absolute chaos! Because you don’t know what anybody else is going to be doing, and that’s a really fun and exciting thing as a DJ.
I’m in a blessed position now with where my career is at that I can uplift other female artists and recognize their hard work. I just want to keep doing that. [To] see each other as artists and bond through the music, and move up, together.
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