txrradio
Preacher's Daughter

mixtapes

Preacher's Daughter

about

Preacher’s Daughter is a dancer first. Through weaving sounds, she seeks communion among bodies, stories, and rhythm. Her sets have an orchestral build, often prioritizing sounds with visceral emotion, treating the club as both a ritual and a playground. Her taste is guided by deep curiosity for mood, unfolding from subtle, atmospheric pressure into unrelenting, driving energy, and naturally gravitating toward cerebral trance.

spotlight

  1. What do you pay the most attention to while you’re mixing?

    I pay attention to the feeling in my body. It’s sort of become a kind of third eye. Especially, I tend to stay busy on the mixer, so there’s only so much you can consciously track. When my body locks in, it helps me read what the room needs better. Being more in tune with my body has also made me more vulnerable in my art, and more aware of when it feels right to share something with real weight.

  2. Being both a sound artist and a writer, what are some of the stories/narratives one could trace through your sets?

    Some of my favorite writing is braided prose that weaves timelines together so seamlessly you don’t always notice the shift. Similarly, I tend to build my sets around emotional arcs rather than linear narratives. A lot of my writing comes from confession and processing emotion, which bleeds into how I share music as well. However, when I’m DJing, I don’t always go in with a specific story in mind, but I try to stay faithful to how I’ve been feeling and what I’m drawn to in the moment. Lately, I’ve been thinking of songs more as a toolbox for mapping emotion and movement rather than fixed functions. I want to use them for people to feel something, the way my favorite books do.

  3. When you’re not playing, where do you go to get inspired? Who’s been exciting you lately?

    The dancefloor! I’ve always been a music head, but for electronic music in particular, dancing was my entry point. Especially in how it helped me reconnect with my body and identity. Over time, that curiosity around electronic sounds deepened, and in the past few years I’ve been working to translate those inspirations into something I can offer back. Recently, I had a really transformative week on the dancefloor. Got immensely inspired by the subtle intensity of Hewan’s set and the embodied swing of dub and subs in Jan Loup’s sets. The word that’s been stuck in my head ever since is “regal.”

  4. I wanted to discuss the importance of decolonizing techno narratives, something integral to your work too. What role do you see as a DJ in this effort — both individually and as a part of artist collectives in New York?

    Dance music has always existed as a form of protest against systems of violence and extraction, whether that’s colonialism, racial capitalism, patriarchy, or exploitation. I try to keep that at the forefront whenever I’m on a dancefloor or organizing within nightlife spaces. Lately, I’ve been thinking about how music has historically been used to move people into action. Sound can transcend its purely sonic role if we engage with it differently. As a DJ, that starts with being attentive to where I source music. It’s always meaningful when I find records from local artists and scenes that feel rooted in collective care and liberation.

  5. How are you approaching the arc of your radio set — emotionally and conceptually?

    I’m really excited to open the studio night, so thank you for having me. I usually find that the opening slot gives you a lot of space to unfold things gradually. It’s often where I get to experiment with sounds I might hesitate to bring into later slots. I am working on not being too afraid to disrupt the flow of the dancefloor. In a radio context, I tend to go deeper into texture and focus on the musical side of techno, while slowly injecting groove.