New film looks at the erasure of women in electronic music and their fight for representation now

Electronic music was pioneered by women. Without the innovations of artists like Wendy Carlos, Clara Rockmore and Suzanne Ciani, the sounds and technology of the genre wouldn't be where they are today. But gender statistics in recent years indicate that women have been largely erased from the electronic world. 

According to DJane Magazine, women only make up six per cent of bookings in the top 150 clubs in the world. Research by the Annenberg Institute showed that women make up less than three per cent of the music industry's technical and production roles. And in 2019, only five women appeared on the list of top 100 DJs in the world, a power ranking that's decided on by industry insiders and music fans. 

Gender disparity in the music industry is not new, and unfortunately these numbers have remained roughly the same for a very long time despite the conversation around it growing with each festival season, where bills are still consistently headlined by men. But for Stacey Lee, director of the new documentary Underplayed, the key to seeing these stats move in the right direction is simply persistence.

"That was a huge driving force behind doing the film," Lee says, "just realizing that this is still something that needs to be talked about." 

Underplayed, which makes its premiere this week at the Toronto International Film Festival, takes a deep dive into the various obstacles women in electronic music face, from men undermining their abilities to being sexualized, from how harassment and critiques affect their mental health to how motherhood impacts their careers. 

Wanting to balance the timeliness and the timelessness of the topic, Lee didn't want to focus just on the mainstream level of electronic music, which right now is heavily influenced by EDM acts like Nervo, Alison Wonderland and Juno Award-winning Canadian Rezz — all of whom have the rare privilege of making it on the top 100 DJs list. Those artists are featured in Underplayed, but since electronic music was also founded by more marginalized groups (Lee notes Chicago and Detroit as examples, where many Black and queer artists were integral to the development of house and techno music in the '80s), the film also zooms out to look at artists carving out spaces and communities for women, people of colour and LGBTQ+ people such as New York's Tygapaw, Toronto's Ciel and British newcomer Sherelle. 

But as much as the topic has been covered in the media, artists were still reluctant to participate in this film partially because of "issue fatigue," as Lee described it, and also because of the consequences of being outspoken.

"You risk losing a lot to speak up on politics," Ciel explains. "I obviously speak up anyway, but the deeper concern is that I didn't want my struggle as a woman to define me as an artist."

Tygapaw was surprised when Lee first approached her because, while she plays a prominent role in the underground scene, she says that "rarely ever translates into what the industry is exposed to." Underplayed does feature male voices — like superstar producer Mark Ronson and Ben Turner, CEO of the International Music Summit management company, which Lee argues was crucial to bring onboard for accountability and allyship — but powerful male figures provided an extra layer of difficulty to book because, Lee explains, "It does open up a minefield and, for us, a large part is: who are the right guys to talk to, and are they acting responsibly behind the scenes?"

It could've been easy for Lee to feel bogged down by all these factors working against the film, but instead Underplayed excels because it shines a light on the people and initiatives hoping to speed up the change. The film follows Rezz as she becomes Canada's first female headliner at a major electronic dance festival, Toronto's Bud Light Dreams (Bud Light Canada is an executive producer on this film); it chronicles Alison Wonderland's live show evolution to include an all-women backing band; and it illustrates Tygapaw's journey from putting on her own queer club night, Fake Accent, which has since evolved into a full-blown record label. 

"I took a look at some numbers and realized that a lot of underground labels are run by white men," Tygapaw says, of her decision to start her own label a year ago, further growing her community to help give Black and queer people a space to develop their craft through skill shares and by providing platforms. Tygapaw confesses that she didn't know how to run a label, but she was always interested. Thanks to some research and help from her network of friends, she made the leap.

"I didn't have access to mentors when I first started, someone who could help guide me along the way," she reveals. "So this is all a process, it's a lot of trial and error." This perfectly aligns with her advice to others who are looking to get into electronic music: "Just do it!" 

I'm not an expert but I believe in sharing knowledge, not gate-keeping it.- Ciel

This attitude within the underground scene specifically is what gives people the most hope, Lee believes. When Ciel first started attending parties in Toronto, she didn't see any local women DJs. But over the years that has changed, and it's grassroots organizations like the Intersessions initiative, which Ciel has worked with, that's welcoming more women to the fold and empowering them to make music.

"I'm not an expert but I believe in sharing knowledge, not gate-keeping it," she says, adding that "the struggle for gender equality is always going to be a work in progress." In fact, that work can potentially take 100 years, according to a report by the World Economic Forum, as Lee brings up. 

But when Lee returns to those low stats in the music industry once again, she reframes them in a way that feels motivating rather than dire. "I always find it fascinating to think about the potential," she muses. "So if we are only seeing five per cent of women on the top 100 DJs lineup, that's only five per cent of the potential perspectives that could be heard in the world.

"Can you imagine how many more perspectives, how many more songs, we could be hearing if the music industry was more diverse?"