Words and Interview by Cat Lewis
When I meet Daisy Gadd—AKA Gaddy Issues—at a cafe in Hackney, East London, she tells me she never planned on working in nightlife.
Daisy grew up in Reading, a town in southeast England known for its beer, bricks, and biscuits. Leaving school at 16, she became an apprentice chef.
Working in food, she was constantly shouted at, worked long hours, and learned to peel potatoes at lightning speed, she says. She started DJing after moving into the London warehouse community.
Why did you move to London?
“Six years ago, I got a new job, which meant moving here. I rented a place to live in East London with the girl I was dating at the time. Six months later, COVID hit.”
Like many couples, they broke up in lockdown. “I was going to leave London,” Daisy tells me. “I didn’t know anyone or have any friends here.”
It was hard, but in the end, she decided to stay—a decision that changed everything about her life and opened her up to a whole new way of living.
Not having many friends or knowing what to do, I just wanted to find cool people and cool things to do. So I moved into the warehouses—I didn’t even know what they were.
She tells me, “I saw some rooms available on various websites and thought, what is this?”
What is the warehouse community?
High rent and ever-increasing living costs lead some people in London to look at alternative ways of living. The result: dotted across North London are a number of warehouse communities, people living in former factories and storage buildings, which are converted into communal living spaces. These aren’t luxury warehouse conversions—it can be quite potluck as to what kind of place you get.
I moved into a warehouse in Hackney Wick for a week. Water dripped from the ceiling. My electricity was daisy-chained extension cords leading to my room. It wasn’t safe. I moved into another warehouse in North London, and that was home for two and a half years.
Another benefit for many creatives like Daisy is that they can build rehearsal spaces and makeshift studios in warehouses—and have enough space to host incredible parties.
When you step into a warehouse, you can sense how crucial they are to cultivating London’s DIY culture and underground music scene.
How did you find your friends?
“Through warehouse parties,” she says. “DJing and finding all of these amazing people started with moving into the warehouse community.”
“When I was in Reading, I used to party a bit, but mostly at drum and bass events where my friends were DJing.”
When I moved into the London warehouse community, I’d found my tribe. Especially being queer, finding my gay community changed me as a person.
Daisy lived with 16 other people in a warehouse tucked among dozens of others, all home to London’s creative underground.
The community was diverse: LGBTQ+, straight, and everything in between. She met musicians, actors, artists, writers, performers, and activists—big personalities and bigger talent. It was a place where everyone belonged.
Was it easy to make friends in the warehouse?
“Finding people similar to me really brought me out. Not immediately, though. It took a while. Post-lockdown, I lost my confidence. Suddenly, I was in situations where I wanted to make friends, but I didn’t know how to talk to people.”
She goes on: “Friends I made living in the warehouses would take me to parties. I felt really uncomfortable, really out of place. Slowly, my confidence grew, and I was able to bring out my own personality, which I’m so grateful for.”
Daisy spent time exploring the underground scene and discovering parties that she thought were “absolutely incredible”.
She speaks with love and gratitude for nights like Big Dyke Energy and queer DJs like Faff, Hannah Holland and Michelle Manetti, who influenced her journey and opened her to new experiences.
When I was going out and exploring queer nightlife, I walked onto the Big Dyke Energy dance floor, and it felt like coming home.
“The music, the people—I loved it,” she says. “I went to one party, and it was such a big change from growing up in Reading. Then I went to every single Big Dyke Energy party until it finished. I was very sad when it stopped.”
London’s underground queer scene inspired Daisy to the point where she thought she could try organising her own warehouse parties.
“I rented a sound system, decks, and lights. To be honest, I had no idea what I was doing. I had friends whom I asked to DJ, or I’d book DJs I knew. Then I started thinking, Why am I getting other people to do this? I can learn to DJ.”
How did you get kicked out?
Daisy bought a £250 pair of Pioneer decks and taught herself. At the next warehouse party she hosted, she was the one behind the decks.
That’s how I got kicked out of the warehouses. I threw a party that got a noise complaint to the council. They politely asked me to leave.
“Ultimately, it was for the best,” she says. “Now I live in a lovely little flat in East London, and not with 15 people.”
Reflecting on her time in the warehouse, she says, “I did my time there, and it was really fun. I’ve made friends who are still really close. And I still dip in and out of that scene.”
You said you “live a double life.” How so?
Nowadays, Daisy lives in a more peaceful environment, working a 9-5 job for a company dedicated to transforming the lives of people with severe genetic diseases.
It’s a strong contrast to her weekend work, when she’s playing banging DJ sets and keeping raves bouncing till closing time.
I live a double life. My corporate job pays the bills, and DJing is fun on the side. Some people only know me behind the decks, but I’m a corporate girlie.
Tell me about corporate life!
“I’ve been working in biotechnology, specifically in cell and gene therapy, for almost four years. I didn’t know anything about it before I got the job. I kinda fell into it, to be honest.”
She currently works as a supply chain manager for a company developing a cure for a rare disease in children. I tell her that it sounds like vital, meaningful work.
We laugh about the different worlds she inhabits: when you’re out dancing with people into the early hours, it’s sometimes hard to picture them doing a day job. I’ve seen Daisy play many times, and a pharmaceutical company is not the career I’d have guessed for her.
I love friendships that live on dancefloors. You don’t know much about each other, so it’s always a surprise. People have wildly different lives outside the clubs. One day, you have a conversation in the smoking area and realise you’ve known this person for years and have no idea what they do.
What is the Gaddy Issues sound now?
“I’ve never had a specific genre, but it’s easier to learn to mix with 126, 128 house, so I started with that.”
When she started going out more, seeing other DJs and listening to more sets expanded her taste in genres. “I love finding new music and supporting new producers. Now I DJ a lot of different genres, which I really enjoy.”
One moment, the set will be techno, acid-house, or trance, then she’ll mix in The Black Eyed Peas, Britney, or Prodigy. It’s tricks and flourishes like these that fill Daisy’s dancefloors with joy. It started for her as a happy accident, being disorganised and not filing tracks in specific folders—nothing was split into genres.
“I now do it intentionally because I like to jump around. I try not to take myself too seriously, and I’m a bit disorganised—I just like to have fun with it. For remixes, which I play a lot of, I dig and dig to find excellent tracks. If I know some friends will be there, I put in songs that I know they love. I love my friends so much, and my best friends show up for me.”
Daisy shows me her gold “Gaddy Issues” ring, a custom piece her girlfriend made for her as a birthday gift. Then she shares a photo of her friends showing up to a set in Gaddy Issues t-shirts they’d made for themselves.
How’d your DJ name happen?
“I didn’t have a name for ages,” she says. “I was just DJing under Daisy Gadd—I wanted to give it time to come to me rather than forcing anything. This summer, I was having drinks in my friend’s garden. We were chatting about my DJ name.”
My friends came up with “Gaddy Issues.” It was perfect, and I was waiting for that moment—natural, organic. I’ve stuck with it. I had t-shirts made, so it’s here to stay!
Rather than seeking or actively hunting it, other aspects of Daisy’s DJ career have found her, including her first residency.
What seemed to be a quiet night turned out to be the ticket to residency at North London’s notorious club night, NACHTLICKER.
The residency happened by chance.
“I don’t really like promoting myself too much.”
Here’s how it happened: She DJ’d at a party her friend organised, and she was last on the lineup. “A lot of people had left by then, so there wasn’t much of a crowd, which is fine. It happens, especially when you’re an up-and-coming DJ.”
She didn’t know that one of the organisers of NACHTLICKER, Alex Podger, was working behind the bar. “I finished my set, and he came up to me and said, ‘Oh my God, who are you?!’ and that’s how I got the residency.”
How do you prepare for sets?
Working a corporate career and building herself as a DJ are two big commitments.
“The more I DJ, the more I realise that what people say is absolutely true: it’s all about reading the room. You have to switch it up depending on the energy, so the most time-consuming task is finding new tunes. Most of my time these days is spent digging.”
She hopes to someday get into music production. “I respect producers so much because I know how much time and effort they put into it. I want to pay them for their time and their tunes, so I try to use Bandcamp as much as possible.”
Of all the digital music platforms, Bandcamp is the most generous by far to music producers. Around 85% of the sale price goes to the artist, meaning an artist whose track is downloaded 100 times gets around €85, compared to Spotify, which pays only around €4 for 1,000 streams.
Does the pay justify the prep time?
It’s a sore point about the industry she feels happy to talk about.
“You’ve got an hour set, and they give you an amount of money for that slot. They don’t recognise the 10 hours you worked preparing for that set.”
I’m in a privileged position. I have a corporate job. But for many DJs, the high cost and low pay are a big blocker. A DJ’s time isn’t massively valued.
She pauses. The frustration runs deeper than just her own situation.
Nightlife and festivals are getting squeezed at the moment. People aren’t getting paid. I know a lot of people who work at festivals for free or for a ticket. It’s a shame. Unfortunately, it’s just becoming the way it is. I would love for everyone to get paid really, really well. It’s tough.
While financial rewards are low, festivals come with other benefits. For Daisy, they’ve been dream-come-true moments that act as established milestones as her DJ career unfolds.
One of her favourite festivals is Body Movements, an East London-based queer music event that started as a multi-venue event and now happens in Southwark Park, a large park in South East London.
Having a queer outdoor festival, not just a queer space or queer DJs, is amazing. Three years ago, I played at Body Movements. They had an apply-to-play scheme for new DJs. I remember thinking I would never get it in a million years. And then I did.
She also loved playing at Boomtown, a big UK festival located in the South Downs National Park. It takes place annually and hosts over 75,000 ravers. It’s famous for its unique design, groundbreaking stages, extravagant decor, and wild experiences.
“I went to Boomtown many times before I got to play there. If you told 17-year-old me I would be DJing at Boomtown when I was 28, I would have told you to shut up. It was a full-circle moment.”
Is the “boys club” of London nightlife shifting?
With DJing having such a straight, male history, does she sense any change afoot?
“Genuinely, I think it’s slowly getting better. There are FLINTA collectives coming out like Not Bad for a Girl, for example.” She goes on:
In London, promoters are becoming more aware of the lack of women on lineups. There are so many amazing female and queer DJs. It’s still unbalanced, but it’s getting better. The tides are turning.
With the scene opening up, what’s next?
“In music production, I’m a big fan of just teaching yourself. The Internet brings so many resources that you can go on YouTube and teach yourself how to do anything, but it can be problematic.”
Daisy tells me how figuring things out for herself from scratch means she’s not confined or restricted by any rules. She can try anything out and make mistakes that turn into signature moves. She has the freedom to try things any way she wants without anyone telling her that’s not the right way to do it.
“When you don’t know what you’re doing, you can just have fun. There’s a lot of DJ culture that keeps people out, telling them they have to mix on vinyl to be a proper DJ or learn to beatmatch a certain way.” But she believes that is changing.
For a long time, being a DJ has been an exclusive club. I hate that. These days, everyone and their mum can be a DJ. That’s not a bad thing. Buy some cheaper decks, hook up to your laptop. Go for it. Have fun!
Follow Gaddy Issues on SoundCloud, Instagram or find them playing their live resident sets at NACHTLICKER. And check out her latest set.
Words and Interview: Cat Lewis, who also interviewed Alex Podger from NACHTLICKER for Hinterhaus
Photos: Provided by Daisy Gadd and Christian Young
Edits: Alexander Cheves
Cat Lewis writes on culture, creativity and the unseen characters of nightlife. Drawn to the subversive, quirky and queer, her writing champions those not usually seen and tells their stories loud and clear.
