FEARLESS: Rebekah on 'Industrial Mind', Reclaiming Femininity, and the Fight for a Cleaner Scene
- 3 days ago
- 11 min read
After three decades in the trenches, the queen of industrial techno isn’t just returning to her roots—she’s burning down the conditioning that kept her hidden. In the wake of a new wave of allegations rocking the hard techno world, Rebekah talks to Playful about her raw new album Industrial Mind, the high cost of being vocal about sexual misconduct, and what it actually means to be a woman in power today.
Playful: Industrial Mind is described as a turning point. When did you see this album as not just another release, but a redefinition?
Rebekah: The album has come about from finally feeling ready to create a body of work that would capture everything that has been in my DJ sets from the past few years. To really show where I’m at musically. It might not be future-facing but more a personal work of my interpretations.
"I’m still searching for authenticity, within music, within people and within myself. That the music still matters."
Playful: You’ve said it feels like a homecoming — what exactly were you returning to?
Rebekah: Returning to an Industrial soundscape. Yes, it is harder, faster and more complex, but I really wanted to bring my sound pallet from 2018 into the mix, using my vocals again, taking influences from the harder genres, expand the melodies and really come out of my comfort zone. But in its essence, it was a return to producing music. I had been on a deep discovery mission these past few years yet also feeling fatigued with the functionality of tracks that I was hearing. It has opened me to focus on other elements, the sounds that are used as well as understanding production techniques within the harder genres. The melodies, the directness. It’s a return to maybe the only stable part….the music.
"The scene hasn't changed; it's just that now more people are being vocal about the abuse they encountered."
Playful: After three decades in the scene, what does it take for something to still feel important to you?
Rebekah: I’m still searching for authenticity—within music, within people, and within myself. That the music still matters. This is reflected in the producers who I return back to listen to; they are the ones who have their own voices.
Playful: You came up through 90s UK rave, moved through hardcore, and now return to industrial techno with everything you’ve absorbed. How do you know when speed and intensity are still saying something — and not just escalating for the sake of it?
Rebekah: I actually was too young for the 90s rave scene and UK hardcore. I entered when it was the beginning of Euro trance, then called epic house for the shortest of periods. French and Chicago house were my first loves in dance music. Derrick Carter was one of my early heroes and Daft Punk’s Homework album was some of the freshest sounds I had ever heard. These were my beginnings, shortly followed by an introduction to techno, which blew my mind.
"The expression of who I fully am is empowering and I am enjoying it so much more than ever before because I still do feel like that 17 year old who discovered techno for the first time."
Exploring hardcore was a territory that I never explored in the late 90s. I had been around it at certain times but it wasn’t for me at that point, so discovering it in the last 6 years has been really fun. To start with the more underground industrial sounds and slowly be opened to the whole musical scene has been quite the journey. I realized it was not a genre I wanted to fully jump across to, as techno arrangement and structures will always be in my DNA. So I suppose for me it’s the journey, the story, and I still cannot fully escape this in my DJ sets and productions. There still has to be a progression, some changes within a piece of music. Tempo and intensity are used as tools and both become boring and level off if they are not switched up.
Playful: You’ve said exploring everything helped you find new ways to create. What did you have to unlearn in that process?
Rebekah: I stopped listening to techno, to promos, to anything I felt I had heard before. I went into areas of music that were challenging for me to listen to, and to find my boundaries within this. How far could I push myself before I deemed it as too cheesy or commercial? And what conditioning is there for me to even have these words in place? Usually it’s music that is more functional and well produced.
Another challenge was that I always hated breakdowns, but was this because I felt awkward in those breaks DJing? My comfort zone is to be mixing and layering constantly, which keeps me away from interacting with the people on the floor and from actually enjoying the moments with the crowd. So it was more about challenging myself and my own beliefs to really come out of my comfort zone and then bring that learning back into my productions and DJ sets.
"It’s been kind of lonely to be honest... I definitely noticed that there has been a lot of distance and some exclusion on line ups."
Playful: Do you feel pressure now to stay in the “harder, faster” lane — or do you believe this album has freed you from that expectation?
Rebekah: The album is in this harder, faster lane so I believe I am staying here for my guest DJ slots. I love the intensity and it really matches my energy and how I play for the time being. Production-wise, I am making some slower, more techno-oriented music again but I'm unsure whether it will come out yet. Recently I played a techno set again and loved it, and you can find me going on the full journey of my 30 years as a DJ at my all-night-long sets. I’m also really enjoying listening to house music again. I’m just at an age where I just love the music regardless and want to remain open and curious.
Playful: The album opens with Loading Mainframe — very cyborg, very mechanical. Was that intentional framing for how you want listeners to enter this world?
Rebekah: I absolutely loved creating this opening track. I wanted to set the tone of where we are with our developments in AI and synthetics and how that ties back into industrial.
Playful: The title track Industrial Mind is confrontational and stripped back. What mindset were you in when writing it?
Rebekah: I wanted to create an industrial banger but, as always, it didn’t quite come out how I wanted to with the obvious arrangement and style. So I switched directions by adding my own vocals and layering in more of my sounds.
Playful: Tracks like Biggest Baddest Mother and Fuck It Up feel almost defiant. Who — or what — are those tracks pushing back against?
Rebekah: BBM was one of the first tracks I produced, even before this album was an album. I managed to capture some strong energy within this and was really the push to accept it as an album track and move forward with the project. Fuck It Up was really the closing, the monster track at the end of the album, but also something I can play at the end of my set. When I try and make my version of hardcore I use different layered kicks for the changes and to keep the energy contained but still moving; it's possibly the technique I have adopted the most through listening to hardcore. So no real agenda with these tracks, just capturing energy in the moment in the studio.
"We need to shift our mentality to believing victims rather than shaming them... we need to make action mandatory."
Playful: Your collab with Hellish, Don’t Let Go. What made that partnership work?
Rebekah: Hellish sent me the track and I fell in love with the vocal immediately; it really resonated with how I felt in this period. I asked to collaborate on the track to make it work even better. Some back and forth, extra sound design and a clear direction of where the track was going and we had the final version.
Playful: When collaborating, how do you protect your core identity while letting someone else into your process?
Rebekah: I think the idea is to not protect it, it’s to challenge it. Compromise is key when collaborating, yet choosing producers within a range that you like and respect is a must.
Playful: What can a collaboration give you (music wise, creatively and personally)?
Rebekah: I think different perspectives really can enhance a piece of music. Having two creative brains working instead of one is a bonus. Also, a lot of collabs happen with tracks where one producer may be stuck in the process, so another hearing with fresh ears and a different direction can bring a project back to life. Depending on how the track is worked on, you can also learn and share new techniques. Personally, it’s a moment where you feel less alone and connected to a scene that is bigger than you.
"Fearless means to step into your power unapologetically, give everything whilst simultaneously expecting nothing."
Playful: You’ve spoken openly about your breast cancer scare and losing your father. How did those experiences change your inner world – and more so your music?
Rebekah: They really shook me up, but both in different ways. My biological father's passing made me realize how fragile life is and that all the things you desire to do—and maybe are putting off to the retirement age—is to do them now. Fit them into a balanced life because tomorrow is not a guarantee.
The breast cancer scare, despite being a very short period of time before being fully resolved, was more about questioning my inner world and beliefs and if maybe I had become stagnant and almost negative. I immediately began to work on my mental state and slowly introduce positive light back. It wasn’t that I was in a depression, but just coasting possibly. I realized I had stopped dreaming. This awakening really changed the trajectory of my life and sometimes I have to stop to take note of how much courage it again took to get here. Musically it was an awakening to find what I loved, what moved me and set me on fire again. This was the new direction of discovering new genres.
Playful: You’ve said this era is about embracing yourself and femininity again. What does femininity mean to you now, compared to earlier in your career?
Rebekah: I felt from the mid-2000s until 2020 I had really played down my femininity and sexuality, mainly because I needed to create a more serious persona and move away from being known as a model and playing house. In a bid to be taken seriously—and to this end, the stigma was actually a successful move—I let the music be discovered first, but my confidence was still not fully where it should have been. It was still conditioning that I had imposed on myself.
The last years I have allowed myself to be more playful, to embrace fashion and make-up and all the things I loved when I was in my late teens and early 20s. The fashion, the fragrances... all signaling to an experimental era. Maybe it’s because I’ve allowed myself to relax and know I have nothing to prove to myself anymore. No more hiding and no more conditioning. The expression of who I fully am is empowering and I am enjoying it so much more than ever before because I still do feel like that 17-year-old who discovered techno for the first time—that person that hears a beat and instinctively wants to dance but with full self-esteem.
Playful: Was there a moment in the studio where something shifted emotionally, not just musically?
Rebekah: I feel quite lucky that the shift from frustrated producer to letting the music flow happened quite early on when making music. The art of letting go of full control has always helped. If I’m hitting a wall creatively I will switch to another project or leave it before things escalate where you’re having an existential crisis!
Playful: Through #ForTheMusic and When The Music Ends, you’ve been vocal about sexual misconduct in the industry. Has that changed how people see and approach you as an artist?
Rebekah: It’s been kind of lonely to be honest. I never felt outcasted but I definitely noticed that there has been a lot of distance and some exclusion on line-ups. Some people I was close to prior fell away as they saw me as using this movement as a way to forward my career, when in fact I knew I would be alienated. Still, they didn’t understand what personal meaning it has to me and what I endured.
"I would love to see industry funding for court fees, as we know that usually the abuse is happening to those that are less empowered and well off, with usually the perpetrators holding positions of power and wealth."
Playful: Do you think the scene has actually changed?
Rebekah: Unfortunately, not so much. The abuse is still happening. It’s just that now more and more people are being vocal about it not being okay and acceptable. Many venues have taken on board zero-tolerance policies and created reporting systems but it’s not fully across the industry yet. We need to make it mandatory and the only way to do that is if we have a governing board, and this is where it becomes tricky.
We need to shift our mentality to believing victims rather than shaming them, creating safer spaces for them to be able to come forward and speak their truth. I would love to see industry funding for court fees, as we know that usually the abuse is happening to those that are less empowered and well-off, with usually the perpetrators holding positions of power and wealth. If things are vague, we need suspension whilst investigations are underway to save more potential abuse taking place. And more behind-the-scenes cooperation needs to happen rather than action only happening when it's public-facing, which really shows a lack of discernment and more obsession with “doing the right thing” under pressure rather than embodying morals.
Playful: How do you balance being outspoken without being consumed by the fight?
Rebekah: I have had to step back a number of times when it gets too heavy and all-consuming. We are currently in one of these periods where the recent allegations within my scene have come to light. Saving energy for these moments is crucial and the women who are working on this need to support one another, step in to spread the load and speak before burnout comes. Understanding this has only come through years of experience. Also, broadening the network of people that would like to help and be involved has helped massively.
"Action only happening when its public facing, shows a lack of discernment and more obsession with 'doing the right thing' under pressure."
Playful: What does accountability look like in underground music today?
Rebekah: Being accountable for your own actions and holding yourself to professional standards, and then be accountable of those around you; to not stay silent when you hear a lewd comment about someone, to call out abuse and harassment when you see it. Report to the correct channels and support when needed. We all need to treat the space as a place where we come together as equals and know that no one is exempt from losing their jobs if their behavior is not correct, regardless of money and influence.
Playful: After everything you’ve experienced — success, backlash, grief, reinvention — what keeps you connected to techno?
Rebekah: My optimism at the core is what keeps me going—that we are still connected to something spiritual in its essence, and that for every rotten egg there are thousands of people just trying their best and valuing what we have built together. And of course… the music and the experience of the nights on the dancefloor that still connect us all.
Playful: What part of yourself does Industrial Mind reclaim?
Rebekah: The internal world of my darker more industrial side is still there, possibly more developed but still inescapable.
"We need to know that no one is exempt from losing their jobs if their behaviour is not correct, regardless of money and influence."
Playful: When people hear this album on a massive system at full capacity, what do you hope hits first: the body or the mind? And how do you wish for it to make them feel?
Rebekah: I think this is for the body, for the energetic release.
Playful: And finally: what does “fearless” mean to you now?
Rebekah: To step into your power unapologetically, give everything whilst simultaneously expecting nothing.
Check out Rebekahs short film "When The Music Ends"
Interview by: Amanda Sandström
