Words and Interview by Cat Lewis
It’s midnight and I’m following DJ and producer Electric Emma into the disco bathroom at Hï nightclub in Ibiza. It’s my first party in a bathroom. I’ve no idea what to expect, but I do know that Emma’s own disco bathroom party, held in Manchester, has become her favourite place to play and a key part of her personal brand.
Later on this trip, I joined Electric Emma for her first DJ set in Ibiza—an opener at the iconic Cafe Del Mar. For the last few years, I’d heard of this woman—Manchester’s own bathroom DJ—and was lucky to finally meet her.
As we walk into Hï’s disco bathroom, she and I are met with a crush of bodies. The air is hot, thick with sweat and bass. Bathroom cubicles line the walls, and at the centre, a DJ spins beneath pulsing LED lights.
Some people have come to pee, but most have come to party. It’s wall-to-wall chaos. Some people are in toilet queues, but most are here for the set—a bulging dancefloor is in the middle of the bathroom, a space so wild and original that it helped Hï earn the title of World’s Best Club in 2024 by the International Nightlife Association, plus the number-one spot on DJ Mag’s Top 100 Clubs list—for the third year running.
This amazing atmosphere prompts me to ask Electric Emma if party bathrooms are a new phenomenon in nightlife. “Definitely not,” she says. The tells me bathroom parties “have been around since the seventies.” And, in Manchester at least, she’s keeping the tradition going.
The history of the “disco bathroom”—bathrooms you can dance (and more) in.
Hï isn’t where disco bathrooms began, and the first disco bathrooms weren’t designed as kooky club spaces or made-for-Instagram moments; they were born by necessity in the underground queer clubs of late-1970s and early-1980s New York.
In the 1970s, same-sex intimacy was still illegal in the United States. Though this changed in 1980 when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that consensual same-sex intimacy between adults should be decriminalised, gays and lesbians still faced widespread violence and hostility—and in New York, much of that hostility came from the police.
As a result, club venues like Studio 54, The Sanctuary, Paradise Garage, The Saint, and The Loft became safe spaces for Black, Latino, and queer communities at a time when society put queer people under heavy persecution.
Disco legend Nile Rodgers talks in his memoir Le Freak: An Upside Down Story of Family, Disco and Destiny, of the bathroom being a “space for the club’s elite to engage in the rampant hedonism of the era, including sex and drugs.”
The “disco bathroom” meant queer people could express their identity and queer joy without scrutiny. Everyone was welcome. It amplified every aspect of disco’s character, including community, and meant the party never paused—music, dancing, and drugs spilt into the private, intimate spaces of stalls, cubicles, and toilets.
Six decades on, disco bathroom culture has made a hugely significant impact on modern nightlife and club design.
Electra Emma brings disco bathrooms to modern ravers.
One DJ and producer particularly inspired by this culture is Electric Emma. Originally from Scotland, Electric Emma is a disco-obsessed bathroom DJ based in Manchester, U.K.
After the party, we sit down to talk about music, Manchester, and her journey to becoming a DJ.
When did the Electric Emma journey start?
“Back in 2020,” she says. “I signed up for regular DJ lessons from DJ KhanFu. He was so cool, and he’s well-known for his vinyl scratching. He taught me to DJ in a studio in Manchester.”
Club culture tends to focus on the very young, but Electric Emma recently turned 43.
I started this as an older woman. It was a good time to do it because there’s more awareness of female DJs and more opportunities. Still, 80% of lineups are male.
Speaking on all the men, she says: “They’ve worked hard to get to where they are; they’ve done the late nights, the little pub events, they know their vinyls inside-out. But sometimes, as the only girl on a line-up with twenty blokes, I’m nervous.”
Electric Emma knows more than she lets on. It’s clear from the moment I meet her that she has a serious head for house—the history, the culture, the tracks, and the artists.
Clubbing was Electric Emma’s classroom.
“I’ve spent my entire life loving music. I absolutely love my tunes. Music is everything. I know my songs inside out, upside down, back to front. No matter what, I know my tunes.”
This passion for music goes back to her student years—a time when she was broke, but still committed to exploring club culture.
“I remember back when I went to university—I was studying business,” Electric Emma tells me. “After studies, I’d have £1 in the bank, and I’d be like, ‘Oh my God! I can’t get to this event!’ So, I’d walk to the venue and head to the smoking area.”
My trick was to lick the back of my hand. Then I’d get a girl who was smoking to lick her hand, and transfer the entry stamp onto my hand. Then I’d get in the club.
But that was “the old-fashioned way,” she says.
Back then, “they’d mark your entry to a club with just a big black marker pen or a different stamp on your hand. So we’d lick our hands and transfer the stamp. I’d dance all night, then I’d walk home. And my friends and I did this religiously from Thursday to Sunday.”
Those early clubbing experiences taught her music—she was, in her words, “caught on”.
“It’s the best way to learn your tunes. The minute I heard it, it just went in. It just stuck. I knew who it was, the edit, the lyrics, the remix. And that was the start of it.”
Along with professional lessons, what else did you need to get started as an artist?
Equipment comes at a cost, which is sometimes a barrier to new DJs.
“When I started DJing, I got a little controller and, after my lessons, it just took off,” Electric Emma says. “A guy I went to school with was holding a charity event, and he told me to come down and jump on the decks at the start. I didn’t know how to do a warm-up set yet or anything like that. I was absolutely shit scared.”
She describes how she “rocked up with my little controller.” “I plugged it in. I banged out a few tunes, and he loved it. He was the first guy to ever give me a set.”
Electric Emma feels the love.
Emma’s worldview is that people are fundamentally nice.
She’s always felt that people love to see you doing what you love and see your dreams coming to life. While she often feels isolated as the only woman on lineups, she knows she is surrounded by people who give her love, time, and attention.
“I felt supported from the start. Some of the older DJs I’ve met are so nice. Once, I was DJing in a bathroom, and after my set, the next guy to play was the legend Leo B. Stanley. I was thinking, God, this guy has DJ’d everywhere. And now he’s here, right next to me!”
This event, she says, was at ADORED, a daylong music event in Manchester that celebrates and showcases the city’s vibrant music scene.
She tells me that, later, Leo B. Stanley sent her a message telling her it was one of the best sets he’d ever played—he felt disco bathrooms were his calling.
Electric Emma tells me how meeting Leo in this way offered her a lot of encouragement. Even though they’re not necessarily the same music style, there’s a lot of support from other, more established DJs.
Leo still sends her messages of support, and he’s been a good example to her of how people are when they understand you.
“They really are there to support you,” she says. “You can like different things and play differently; they’re still there for you.”
Has the nightlife scene in Manchester been equally welcoming?
I sense this is a harder question to answer.
“I’m often the only girl,” she says. “Sometimes it seems like there might not be room for everyone, but there should be.”
I wouldn’t ever want anyone to dim their shine or think that there’s no room for them. When I see other female DJs from Manchester on the line-up, I think, ‘Yeah, go and get them!’
Electric Emma is fiercely confident, fast-talking, and when I meet her, she’s clad in glitter. With her record bag, she radiates energy, enthusiasm, and a huge smile.
She laughs: “I need to be exactly who I am. I don’t know how to be anyone else.”
When I go to some venues, sometimes I scare people. I get it. I walk in. I’m dead excited—I drop some dirty bangers, then leave.
She tells me, “I love to see girls, even the young girls, any girls, just getting out there and being confident enough to do it. I get so excited.”
You feel supported by other artists. Can you tell me more about that?
Electric Emma talks about the support she’s had from established music professionals. Another person who championed Emma and offered their knowledge and experience was Jon Fitz, one half of Herd & Fitz, who made the iconic record “I Just Can’t Get Enough” and was a bass player for Bodyrockers (known for the megahit “I Like The Way“).
“It’s so nice. A guy with such a legendary career, and he’s asking me, ‘How’s your mixing going?’ I’m mindblown.” Fitz now books her four times a year for House and Vocal, a regular music event series in Cheshire in the north of England.
“Those events are stunning,” she says. “You dance all day and are home by midnight.”
“This support from others makes me realise there is enough room for everyone. These people don’t have to help me, but they do. There’s no competition. Everybody’s supporting each other.”
Confidence without competition.
We start talking about competition—or rather, the lack of it. It’s easy to slip into comparison, but Electric Emma rejects that entirely.
For her, confidence isn’t about being louder than the next person; it’s about shining without dimming anyone else’s light. The true joy for her is in celebrating those who shine alongside her.
“You take yourself as far as you want; you carry yourself—and others—when someone needs it. You get the job done—you get up, show up, and dress up. Just do it well.”
If people come to you for help, you help them. If people don’t get that, that’s on them. You don’t ever have to dim your light because someone’s not getting what you do.
“There is room for everyone. Some people just don’t get it.”
Electric Emma sighs—it’s clear her journey hasn’t been without frustration, but she doesn’t let the attitude bother her.
Five years on, do you still love DJing?
“I love it,” she says. “The other weekend, I was DJing at a house club night. Towards the end of my set, they took me by surprise, asking if I could play for another hour with two live singers.”
It was her first time sharing a stage with live performers. “It all went really well—it was good to be thrown in the deep end. I’ve never been on stage with a live act before. It was mega.”
Ibiza is particularly special to you. Why?
Talking of being thrown in the deep end, our conversation turns to Ibiza—an iconic destination for any DJ, especially one who has visited the island as a party-goer nearly every year of their adult life, as Emma has.
“I never thought I’d play there. I met my husband there 15 years ago at a Deadmau5 gig in Amnesia. He proposed to me there. Then we got married there. So, we’re always visiting Ibiza.”
She goes on: “When you DJ in Ibiza, you want to do it well. You know what it deserves. It deserves your best. You just want to do your best. I feel so lovely about the place that I wanted to do it proud.”
The opportunity finally came to Electric Emma after securing a slot as a resident for Funk My Life, an event series focused on house music, based in Harrogate in the North of England.
“They’d never met me before, but I got a two-hour set at one of their nights. After my very first set, Funk My Life offered me a residency. I am now very lucky to play for them four times a year and have done so for the last three years. This year, they got me into Ibiza for a set at Cafe Del Mar. It was amazing!”
Beyond Ibiza, one topic excites Electric Emma immensely: disco bathrooms. We talk about them, taking this tour of Emma’s life and work full circle.
Electric Emma and the disco bathroom go hand in hand. It’s a big part of her brand, and it’s a concept that secured her a spot in the heart of Manchester nightlife.
What inspired you to build your career in a disco bathroom?
Today, conversation around bathrooms is far from celebratory. In the UK, they’ve often been weaponised, with gender-neutral bathrooms turned into political cannon fodder, symbols of division rather than inclusion.
For her, the disco bathroom is a personal homage to the many disco legends and DJs who brought joy to her life.
“It’s all about making you feel more comfortable. I wish more people got it, but that’s just how it is. It’s literally about spreading joy.”
Tell me more about The Washhouse!
“My husband and I went to New York for my 33rd birthday. We went to a place called PDT, which stands for Please Don’t Tell. At first, we couldn’t find it because the location was a secret, but after hunting around a little hot-dog stand and following some other clues, we found it. It was a totally secret bar. Jon could not cope with this concept. He loved it so much.” This experience inspired the speakeasy bar The Washhouse.
The Washhouse website winks and nods but gives nothing away. Electric Emma’s voice is filled with pride as she describes its disco bathroom to me:
“The Washhouse is meant to be secret,” she says. “That’s what makes it so fun.”
The facade looks deceptively like a standard laundromat. “People were coming in with clothes to wash!” she says. “We got complaints that the machines weren’t working.”
We don’t have a phone number. You have to find the bar. We make it hard for people. I can’t believe how hard people want to work for a cocktail.
The only standout feature of the bar she’ll comment on is the bathroom parties—the rest she prefers to keep under wraps.
“It’s not a bathroom that we just wheel the music into. We built it as a disco bathroom. It’s got a glitter wall and a huge disco ball hanging from the ceiling. It’s got lights.”
The bathroom was built to be a disco. It just bangs! And my tunes, honestly, the way they hit off the tiles—the disco bathroom hits differently.
The Washhouse even has a “Narnia room,” she says. “To get to the secret Narnia room, you have to climb through a huge wardrobe. It’s the biggest wardrobe you’ve ever seen in your life.” The secret Narnia room can be booked for private events and parties.
Instead of calling the space a bar or speakeasy, she more comfortably calls the space an experience. “We try so hard to create these spaces for people,” she says. “We fought hard over getting that bloody wardrobe to Manchester, strapped on top of my husband’s car.”
What was a recent favourite party at The Washhouse?
“I was in the disco bathroom last Saturday!” she says. “It was a really good one. It was wild. Sometimes, nobody needs a piss; they come for the party. Other days, everyone wees at once, then stays, which is great! Sometimes, they’re just dead shocked and don’t want to pee because there’s a DJ in the bathroom. Surely that makes peeing easier because you can’t hear a thing. No tinkles!”
You recently produced your first track. Tell me about that!
In July, Electric Emma released her first track, “Blonder,” with the label Muscle Funk. The track reached number four on Beatport’s tech house chart—a phenomenal achievement for an unsigned artist’s first release.
Electric Emma is filled with delight at this. “That was mind-boggling. I’ve been learning to produce for so long, trying to activate my brain, and I was doing it all at night. That wasn’t working for me—not with a toddler. So, I switched to mornings.” She’s still learning, and she has ample support from colleagues.
“I know exactly what I need from a song. Sometimes I get technical roadblocks. I’ve not fully learned how to do it yet, but I’ve got some great teachers.”
Nick Hussey, a DJ and producer who has worked with many artists under different names since 1990, has been amazing support, she says.
“He is unbelievable. I met him and told him about my track. I had so many unfinished songs on my computer, and I was telling him about how they’re in my head and it’d be so nice to hear them.”She played her tracks to Nick—she knew they needed a lot of work and were nowhere near mastering, but she didn’t let that stop her. “He said, ‘Right, we’ve got this!’ He took me on a producing journey, and from that, we got my debut track.”
What would you say to someone who’s at the beginning of their DJ journey?
I want anyone who’s thinking of giving it a go to know there is space for everyone, no matter what age you are. The hardest part is starting. You just need to make that little step to get going.
With five years under her belt, Electric Emma reflects on her journey. She recalls: “At the beginning, there were bits I just wasn’t getting.”
“I was a new mom. I had a baby who did not sleep, and still doesn’t. But the love of the scene, the music, and my friends I saw when I was out—these carried me through.”
She goes on: “One day, it just clicks. When I had that moment, I could have cried. It all falls into place. But you don’t get there unless you just start.”
What’s the worst that could happen? You get a few nice songs and make a few more friends. I promise it’ll be okay. It’s rave culture. It’s house music. It’s disco. It’s always going to be okay.
Electric Emma lives in Manchester, UK.
You can find her on Instagram and SoundCloud. She is a resident DJ at The Wash House and Funk My Life.
Her latest single “Blonder”, is available on Apple Music, Spotify, all major streaming services, and Beatport.
Words and interview: Cat Lewis
Images: Provided by Electric Emma
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.
