Gloves and Boots Caitlin Baverstock
Thong Alexjustspat

I could open this with an elaborate, slightly pretentious description of a fabled HTBX party. I could summon the sensations and sounds and give you a fragmented, overly stylised, novel-esque rendering of the debauchery from within. But I’m not a staff writer for a revived glossy, crashing Hackney Wick parties afraid to lose themselves in the subject of their pseudo-scandalous, actually relatively PG-13, puff pieces. Nor am I here to convince you to slide into HTBX’s DMs. You should have been there. And if you weren’t, well, there’s probably a good reason you were kept out.

“I feel a bit offended when being referred to as a ‘promoter' because I don’t really promote anything” says Becky Stroke, founder of HTBX, model and DJ hailed “the Regina George of London techno”. I spend more energy keeping certain people away from our events than trying to recruit anyone to come. Technically British by passport, but from nowhere in particular, Becky has been an integral part of London’s queer nightlife for the past decade.

Jacket Samuel Friberg Underwear Liza Keane
Shoes Stylists own

HTBX began in a tiny Whitechapel basement almost a decade ago and has since held fast to its underground roots. Through the organisers’ efforts and a ruthlessly selective vetting system, HTBX has since remained a true sanctuary for those seeking genuine freedom on the dance floor. At its heart is Becky Stroke’s “demonic yet girly” sound and a line-up of musicians who play purely out of love for the music and the community she’s cultivated.

To accompany our muddy, sweaty shoot at Chronic Illness—London’s “biomedia performance space of dark vitality”—we caught up with Becky to talk about her teenage clubbing days, brat summer, her Princess Diana shrine, and the twisted power dynamics permeating nightlife.

NINI: Let's start from the beginning. Where are you originally from? I read somewhere that you grew up in Belgium. We want to know the full lore.

BECKY: My parents both immigrated to Belgium for work and met there. My mother is Northern Irish and still lives in Belgium. I am still discovering things about my overly mysterious father. I seem to come from a long line of people who like to immigrate and adopt new languages and lifestyles. I moved to London at 17 when I graduated high school to study at King's College. Although I'm technically British by passport, it didn't feel like coming home. I don't feel [like I’m] from anywhere; I'm seen as a foreigner in all the countries I have ties with.

NINI: Is it true you started going out to clubs at the age of 14?

BECKY: Yes, but it's not as bad as it sounds! In Brussels, you can go out as a teenager and have a couple of beers with your friends in bars without anyone batting an eyelid. Nothing too sinister happened; it was good practice for staying safe later in life. The bouncers would let me keep the pepper spray in my bag if they found it if I told them I had to take the bus home alone. Bless them. It was and is disturbing how openly interested in young teenagers the men were, even after telling them your age and asking them to go away. Ew.

NINI: When did you realise you wanted to make a career out of playing music? How did it all begin?

BECKY: I never had the ambition; it just happened naturally. I took the opportunities that arose, never imagining it could be sustainable. I was rethinking my life choices during lockdown, but then, when clubs opened again, the bookings came more frequently than ever, and I started to take it a bit more seriously. Not too seriously, though. I focused on studying most of my life and didn't realise I was creative. I think it takes quite a lot of audacity to dare to call yourself an "artist" of any kind.

NINI: Who were your biggest influences when you first started? And who are your biggest influences now?

BECKY: I have to mention Orphx; they are top-tier. Last year, I had the honour of playing after them, and I burst into tears during their sound check. My friend thought something was wrong as they'd never seen me react this way, but I was so moved as they sound even better live. A new icon of mine is Sarra Wild, a very talented DJ who is unwilling to compromise her beliefs even for the most 'prestigious' booking. She is her own agent and really does things her way while being hugely successful.

Skirt and Garters Eden Sherry Thong Alexjustspat
Shoes Stylist’s own

“If you allow yourself to be put on a pedestal, you will fall very hard; your biggest fan can turn into your biggest hater overnight over the most trivial thing.”

— Becky Stroke

NINI: What does your family think about your career? Your mum sounds cool. I remember you saying she got you a special device for shaving your eyebrows.

BECKY: She is the coolest and would always discourage me from trying to tone my personality down or "blend in" with people, aesthetically or otherwise. Thanks, Mum. I'm not really in contact with the rest of my family; they aren't aware of what I do at all or, if so, only vaguely. I hope they would be suitably horrified.

NINI: You've done quite a bit of modelling, including major brands like Valentino, when they were pushing their "edgy" image. Do you still take on modelling work? What has it taught you?

BECKY: I take on the occasional job, but as far as going to castings and feeling like I'm on the meat market, never again, and no thank you! That was a soul-destroying experience sometimes. Modelling has taught me that beauty is an illusion. It also cemented my preference for a cerebrally challenging job and life; models have to mentally "check out" most of the time, and it's boring.

NINI: Which one is worse, the fashion or music industry?

BECKY: That's a tough one; I would say fashion because of the objectification of young women's bodies as the central theme. At least in electronic music, you aren't deemed as expired once you reach your mid-twenties, and a love of music is usually there somewhere; if you have nothing else in common, at least you have a shared passion. In the majority of high-end fashion shoots I've been a part of, I didn't feel much love for the craft there, and too much passive aggression and unpaid, stressed interns. The Valentino shoot was one of the last campaigns Terry Richardson worked on before being cancelled, and of course, there was an incident involving his saliva in my hair that everyone on set ignored.

NINI: That sounds horrible. What memories stand out when you think about the early days of your career?

BECKY: My first gig was at my friend Judith's event. I opened with the bible in French, then played most of my small record collection I owned at the time in a row, with you could only call attempting to mix them into each other.

NINI: I hate that this is still a topic of conversation, but why do you think gender politics persist in underground club culture, which is supposed to be inherently 'anti-establishment'? We all know there are cis straight white male promoters who profit off queer communities. As the founder of one of London's most beloved and community-driven club nights, I'd love to hear your perspective on this.

BECKY: Unfortunately, men still hold all the nightlife capital; there isn't a single club in London owned or run by women, and this has a ripple effect. Men hold the keys to our success, and people let them continue to, because they want what they can provide. It's clear what the allure of the queer community is: cultural relevance, hot girls, the money that comes with being on-trend. Somehow, [these men] truly believe they belong everywhere, and everything belongs to them. They love the benefits, but probably bullied people and called them fags in high school; now they want what those same people can offer them. Please. If you never had a gay friend before opening a club, you shouldn't be profiting from queer parties more than any queer people are. The audacity is real.

We've all got bills to pay, but it's heartbreaking when people you respect go along with these charades to keep a career. If anyone dares to speak about anything insidious going on behind closed doors, they will not be booked again. They'll be banned from the club. Even answering this question makes me a bit nervous about how much I can or should say. I've been harassed, sabotaged and then blacklisted by straight men in queer nightlife simply because I refused to let them tell me which days I was or wasn't allowed to throw events on, and much more which I can't tell. This obsession with controlling us all is weird because parties are supposed to be fun and serve as an escape. What they do is the definition of establishment; in fact, it's giving totalitarian regime. They definitely need to chill and take a step back to think about whether they should be doing this or if they could use their large resources to profit from something other than a marginalised community that they're not part of.

NINI: In the context of music and nightlife, power is a complex notion. It’s a concept that can be both empowering and problematic, especially in industries where those in control sometimes, well, oftentimes, exploit their positions. How do you navigate the dual nature of power in your role?

BECKY: It's an interesting case because lots of people, myself included, don't do this work for money; it's a passion project or a labour of love. It's funny to be able to disrupt the "big players", the people with so much money to throw around, simply because they don't know what people want, and their lack of authenticity is often palpable if you're paying attention. I only have a small platform to draw attention to what I like and call out systematically rotten behaviour. I love to do this.

If you allow yourself to be put on a pedestal, you will fall very hard; your biggest fan can turn into your biggest hater overnight over the most trivial thing. No one kissed my ass before I was in charge of a list they wanted to be on; I try to remember that and take it all with a grain of salt. I perceive power as intelligence and integrity in your actions, which inspires people to do what they want. Power is not undue and indiscriminate influence over others. People are so easily influenced that you shouldn't feel powerful in being able to do that.

NINI: Tell us about your new INFERNO mix. Did you construct this mix around a certain theme or sonic concept?

BECKY: I love mixing vocals from multiple songs to induce the feeling of a conversation, and I seem to repeat this theme ad nauseam. My INFERNO mix starts with one track asking, "Do you hear voices?" and the other answering, "I can hear you talking about me." A few more people chat to each other in the mix this way; I guess that's my signature. I hadn't really thought of it before.

NINI: I loved the CouCou Chloe Silver A remix around the 44-minute mark. I know you're a fan, and someone should start a petition for a Becky x Chloe collaboration. What is it about CouCou Chloe that you're so drawn to?

BECKY: A collaboration with her would be a dream. I adore her risk-taking, creative use of vocal samples and trap, and other influences. She is genre-less, which is what I aspire to be; a genre seems limiting. I think I also might have a thing for charismatic French women.

NINI: You've been with INFERNO since the very beginning. What makes this club night so special?

BECKY: You will never see looks like the ones pulled at INFERNO; it has its own community and its own personal aesthetic. It's been fun watching the journey from Dalston Superstore to now, with Lewis Burton being known worldwide for INFERNO and for trans pride, which had 55,000 attendees this year. I'm so proud of her.

NINI: You mentioned you don't like playing music because you feel you are already subjecting people to your tastes when DJing. But when you're home alone these days, what do you find yourself listening to?

BECKY: I honestly don't listen to music for long periods of time when I'm at home unless I'm researching. I find it too emotional, and it throws me off task because I find myself being over-analytical about how it was made.

I love cinema, so I put my favourite films on repeat and just listen to them when I'm working, or I listen to film soundtracks, stuff from my teenage years like 2000s hip-hop and R&B, the Queen of the Damned soundtrack is my go-to album.

“As soon as something you do becomes popular, you have to make the choice between monetisation and authenticity. I don’t think we would still be going if we had sold out and compromised the vision.”

— BECKY STROKE

**NINI: Speaking of films, I saw you wearing a Jennifer's Body T-shirt out somewhere. What is it about that film that resonates with you?**

BECKY: I mean, a stunning girl who eats all the boys that want to fuck her, and looks hotter after she's devoured one, all directed by a woman, what's not to love, really. I think we love to lean into revenge fantasies as some sort of therapeutic antidote to what we experience.

NINI: Any notes for the music supervisors for Jennifer's Body?

BECKY: The cringeness of the indie band who try to sacrifice a virgin to Satan is insufferable, perfect for the plot line. The rest of the soundtrack being indie as well is jarring; something sexier or heavier atmosphere could have elevated it.

NINI: How would you describe your sound? Is it even necessary to pin it down? With dance music, which is so much about the energy, should the focus be on the tempo or the overall energy? I recall someone mentioning to Mixmag how surprising it was that people were now describing music by its tempo rather than what it is.

BECKY: I prefer to focus on the feelings music can evoke; the same can be felt at a fast or slower pace; I don't like the BPM police at all. If the only way you can describe music is to relay the drum hits per minute, it might lack some character, or maybe you don't feel strongly enough about it to describe it in any other way. I'd say my sound is cinematic, haunting, demonic. It's very intense but always with a "girly" and ethereal touch. People often tell me that they danced very hard but also felt quite emotional during my set, which is exactly what I want.

NINI: Why do you think the majority of people are still drawn to overproduced music (Brat Summer and all that shit) even now when there's an overwhelming choice of what to listen to? Why aren't more people open to messier, sweatier, sexier, more exploratory underground sounds?

BECKY: Sorry, I haven't listened to Brat yet, and I don't need to; I've heard enough! I have to give credit where it's due: the bassline in 365 slaps.

(Though I don't think she had much to do with that apart from approving it.) The viral dances people do to it are a complete mystery of human behaviour. Has everyone's body been taken over by cheesy children's TV presenters? I find the over-enthusiasm and over-expressiveness shown during these choreographies very unsettling for some reason. That's not how people behave, but they let Instagram take over their bodies. It reminds me of the Stepford Wives robots.

Maybe it's just the goth in me who is horrified by such behaviour or how quickly the internet changes norms without enough questioning. Most people wait to be told what they like—another mystery, as there's such a vast collection to explore out there. I suppose if the music I like became mainstream, I would be really shocked. It's like the difference between teenagers who delve into heavy metal or heavier music and those who don't; either you're seeking something intense to match how you're feeling, or you're fine with what's available and will just bop along to whatever.

NINI: For some, there comes a point when you realise you don't want to be part of the mainstream. The goal shifts from succeeding within a pre-existing system—often flawed and corrupt—to creating your own alternative system, an 'anti-system' of sorts. When did you come to the realisation that you wanted to forge your own path?

BECKY: HTBX started in the era of mass club closures in London when clubbing was also either heterosexual and nightmarish for girls. Or only for gay men, nothing in between. I spent so many years tagging along with gay guys with no one to talk to once they were busy hooking up; I always thought it was a shame and that it was time for a third option. We had access to a small basement in Whitechapel and somehow got away with doing our first few years of events there.

I invited the nicest people I'd met throughout my years going out and told them they could only bring one friend each. This created a great vetting system; people are hesitant to bring someone they have questions about. If they can only invite one, they will bring their bestie or a cute date whose energy and values are more likely to match those in the room.

We can probably take credit for driving the new era of queer clubbing, along with Kaos London, of course, which came long before us and is still going.

As soon as something you do becomes popular, you have to make the choice between monetisation and authenticity. I don't think we would still be going if we had sold out and compromised the vision. The crowd stays loyal because we serve them above all else. Unfortunately, other people have made money from my work, so it occasionally makes my blood boil, but overall, I have no regrets. I need to be proud of what I'm doing; if I wanted to get rich, it would never be from music or nightlife; they really are passions of mine. I actually have a secret tech side hustle launching soon, which I hope will be able to fund HTBX and me in the foreseeable future. Pray for me.

NINI: Even when doing your own thing, you're still in a relationship with the system by challenging it. How do you navigate your relationship with the music industry?

BECKY: I have had to somewhat extract myself from it because I can't operate on the terms that are there and escape it all with good mental health. I'm disliked by quite a lot of powerhouses, either for refusing to collaborate with them or calling out bad behaviour. Since I'm treated well, overall, by the real queer community in London, and we try to show each other respect, it's often a shock to the system when dealing with people outside of the bubble, remembering what it feels like to be spoken down to for no reason and have to deal with bullies. Since I don't have to deal with it, I just opt out when it's upsetting me, which feels so nice. I do not hesitate to ghost rude people. Women in the music industry get patronised enough, so I don't sign up for this kind of punishment. You can change the landscape by not following the status quo; it just takes some guts and resilience to be one of the first, but eventually, it will work.

NINI: What are the moments that make it all worth it?

BECKY: The ecstatic, sweaty faces and adorable messages from friends and strangers in the days and weeks after that always make me cry. The countless friendships, relationships, businesses and more that started with strangers meeting on our dance floor. I don't have a lot of friends, so it's nice to know I played a part in creating other relationships, even indirectly. I also hope I'm shaking up the industry, even just a little, locally. I want to do more.

Skirt and Garters Eden Sherry Thong Alexjustspat

NINI: We've seen many small, community-centred club nights blow up thanks to someone posting about them on TikTok or similar platforms. Is it a deliberate strategy to keep HTBX off the radar?

BECKY: It's always been deliberate, yes. I feel a bit offended when being referred to as a “promoter” because I don't really promote anything. I spend more energy keeping certain people away from our events than trying to recruit anyone to come. When the atmosphere is good, people stay loyal because they know and like what you offer. We had an issue recently because a well-meaning person reviewed us on her TikTok very positively, and the inbox got a bit aggressive before the next party. That has confirmed why we will never make an account there or engage in that side of things.

NINI: Could you tell us more about the visual language of HTBX? How does the intentionally obtrusive, collage-style, and bricolage branding enhance the sonic experience of the club night?

BECKY: A friend encouraged me to use what I'm good at, which is things made by hand rather than graphic design. We were always DIY, so it makes sense to reflect that. A slick look wouldn't really suit it. I've been making collages since I was little, the first being a slightly morbid shrine to the late Princess Diana, whose death I got really fixated on for some reason.

Knitwear PHREAKWEAR001 Shoes Stylist’s own
Shoe Accessories Alexjustspat

NINI: HTBX is approaching its 10th anniversary, isn't it? What can we look forward to for the celebration?

BECKY: We usually work on very late notice, but we shall have to plan something very extra for that one to say thank you, especially to everyone who has been coming since the early days and who helped me survive all the drama and rough patches.

NINI: Is there anything coming up that we should know about? I saw on your Instagram that the next HTBX is expected quite soon.

BECKY: My enemies are watching too closely, so I can't tell you precisely… but it will be cute, and it will be soon. You'll be the first to know, darling. I'm also looking forward to releasing my music for the first time after years of trial and error, deciding what I want to evoke with my compositions.

TEAM CREDITS

STYLING + CREATIVE + WORDS: Nini Barbakadze

PHOTOGRAPHY + CREATIVE DIRECTION: Samuel Edwards

MAKEUP: Bea Sloss

HAIR: Fabien Picot

PHOTOGRAPHY ASSISTANT: Coraima Valdez

STYLING ASSISTANT: Nisha Hartstein

TALENT: Becky Stroke

EXTRA: Adriana Preile

BTS + CAMCORDER: Ned Robinson Jones

SPACE: @chronicillness_sewage

FOLLOW GATA MAGAZINE

PIERCING THE UNDERGROUND SOUND: GATA MEETS BECKY STROKE