BEATRIX WEAPONS

Beatrix Weapons at Hueco Studio: experimental electronics, intuition and the need to be saved

Some artists need long explanations to justify what they do. Beatrix Weapons, on the other hand, seems to move from a much more direct place: opening Ableton, letting something happen and trusting that the music will find its shape.

Her visit to Hueco Studio was an intimate session, very different from the clubs and festivals where she usually performs. A live set of experimental electronics that, in a closer space, was experienced in another way: people listening, people dancing, even someone sleeping. A mix she jokingly described as something quite close to her everyday life.

“It’s how I feel in my day to day: sleeping and dancing.”

After the live set, we sat down to talk about her way of composing, the experimental electronic scene in Spain, the prejudices around performing with a computer, the melancholy in her melodies and her desire to open a path as a producer.

Composing like opening a video game

For Beatrix Weapons, making music does not necessarily come from a grand ritual or a specific emotional state. She does not need to be broken, sad or going through some kind of drama in order to sit down and produce.

Sometimes it is enough to wake up, have a coffee and open Ableton.

“For me, it’s like a video game.”

That line explains her way of working very well. Composition appears as something everyday, almost natural. She can make a beat on a train, a demo at home or a keyboard line on a quiet morning. There is no solemn separation between life and music: music is part of the routine.

“The calmer I am, the more it flows in a real way.”

Against the romantic idea of creation through suffering, Beatrix Weapons proposes something else: producing from calmness, habit, play and the need to make things.

A scene open to the strange

When she talks about the experimental electronic scene in Spain, she does so with a lot of optimism. Especially in cities like Barcelona, where she finds collectives, artists and proposals that are moving things forward.

What stands out to her is not only the existence of a scene, but the attitude of the audience.

“People are open to listening to new things.”

For her, that creates hope. Many times she thought her music would not fit, that it might be too non-commercial or too strange. But she found the opposite: people who seemed far from the experimental world connecting with her live sets, enjoying them and entering her universe without needing previous context.

“The people who seem more normie sometimes enjoy it more than the weird ones.”

There is something important there: experimental music does not have to be a closed territory for insiders. It can also be a physical, emotional and direct experience. Something that simply goes through you.

IDM, computer and no need to prove anything

When it comes to labels, Beatrix Weapons recognises herself close to IDM, the school of Aphex Twin and an electronic tradition linked to experimentation, computers and the freedom to produce without answering to classical instrumental technique.

“I identify with that style of IDM and experimentation, because I wouldn’t know how to do it any other way.”

Her relationship with music has been deeply self-taught. She started experimenting with small Casios, Korgs and simple machines, but the real shift came when she learned to work with Ableton and understood that it could be her main tool.

“I don’t know how to read sheet music, I don’t know how to play piano, I don’t know how to do anything… but I make music.”

That sentence does not sound like an excuse, but like a statement. Beatrix Weapons is not trying to occupy a place that does not belong to her. She is not trying to prove that she can play like a classical instrumentalist. Her space is elsewhere: in experimentation, intuition and building her own language from the computer.

Spontaneity versus knowledge

During the interview, an interesting reflection appears about the difference between traditional musical training and self-taught electronic creation.

Beatrix Weapons recognises the value of those who come from the conservatoire, from technique and deep study of an instrument. But she also defends the fact that, precisely because she does not come from there, another kind of freedom appears in her music.

“There is an experimentation and spontaneity that does not come from a score.”

It is not about opposing worlds, but about understanding that there are different ways of reaching music. One can come from technical knowledge. Another can come from error, intuition, character, from not fully knowing what you are doing and still doing it.

In her case, that way of creating does not seem like a calculated aesthetic choice, but an extension of her personality.

“I can’t place myself anywhere other than where I am.”

The need to make something genuine

Although she recognises that all influences end up appearing in some way, Beatrix Weapons insists on one idea: the need for what she makes not to sound too much like anything else.

“For me, it is important to feel that what I have to make should not resemble anything.”

She knows it is impossible to create in a vacuum. She listens to music all the time, absorbs references and is influenced by what surrounds her. But still, there is a clear intention: to try to bring out something genuine, something that responds to a voice of her own.

“I came into the world and I have something to say.”

Some people may not understand it. Someone may call it weird, freaky or even say that it is not music. But in her case, the answer is simple: it is the only thing she knows how to do consistently.

The computer as an instrument

One of the strongest moments of the conversation comes when she talks about performing with a computer.

For a long time, there has been a clear pressure within electronic live performance: if you do not bring machines, controllers, synthesizers or constantly move your hands, it looks like you are not really playing. As if the computer were a lesser tool, or as if pressing play erased all the work that came before.

Beatrix Weapons is increasingly clear about it.

“I really do everything with Ableton.”

After selling her machines before going to Indonesia, the computer remained as her central tool. And although she recognises that there is still a certain social pressure to bring “something else” on stage, in the interview she seems to arrive at an almost liberating conclusion: maybe it is not necessary.

“Just a computer and you can make a real statement of what it is.”

For her, what matters is not proving visible skill on stage, but showing something real. A project can have fifty tracks, layers, automations, effects and structures that are impossible to reproduce physically live. Pretending to play everything would be absurd.

“What matters is that people listen to what you do and like what you do.”

There is an honest defence of the electronic live set here: not as an imitation of the traditional concert, but as another form of presence, decision-making and performance.

Festivals that once seemed impossible

In recent years, Beatrix Weapons has played festivals that once seemed almost unreachable. She mentions LEV Festival and MIRA Festival as reference points, places where she had heard artists that were part of her imaginary.

“You imagine one day being there… and suddenly I was there.”

That step is not told as an epic story, but as a mix of surprise, nerves and gratitude. Being on those stages does not erase the feeling of strangeness. Rather, it confirms that her music, even if it comes from a very personal and experimental place, can find important spaces without stopping being what it is.

“I have played in Spain at the festivals I wanted to play.”

Melancholy, monsters and hope

When asked what emotion she would like someone to feel when listening to her music for the first time, the answer comes quickly:

“To be saved.”

From there, one of the most beautiful parts of the interview appears. Beatrix Weapons talks about her music as a journey that goes through darkness, voices, monsters and uncomfortable places, but almost always tries to end in some kind of hope.

“We all want to be saved. We all want to be okay.”

Her music has a strong sense of melancholy, especially in the melodies. She mentions influences from the universe of Sadboys, Yung Lean, Yung Sherman and producers like Whitearmor: music crossed by sadness, escape and nostalgia, but also by a kind of light in the background.

“Melodies that heal your soul a little.”

That line sums up the emotional core of Beatrix Weapons very well. It is not just about making weird, broken or experimental music. There is also a search for refuge, beauty and something that helps you keep going.

Producing other artists

Looking towards the future, Beatrix Weapons speaks about one very clear idea: producing more people.

Not only maintaining her side as an experimental artist, but also opening a path as a producer. And not in a neutral way: she is especially interested in occupying a space that has historically been largely taken up by men.

“It’s full of male producers.”

Her wish is to produce, support other artists, open doors and leave proof that there are also women building sound from the production side.

“I would like to go through music and say: I’m a girl producing people.”

That vision connects with something present throughout the whole interview: the need to do things from one’s own place, without asking for permission and without adapting too much to what is expected.

Friends, team and hope

The end of the conversation feels very Beatrix Weapons: direct, tender and a little chaotic. She thanks her friends, the ones who have supported her from the beginning even though they are not part of the experimental scene.

For her, that close circle is not a secondary detail. It is a possible team, a way of imagining the future without losing the bond with those who were there from the start.

“I don’t want anything else, just to go with my friends.”

And she closes with a phrase that could sum up the emotional universe of the whole interview:

“Life is broken, but we have each other, we love each other and there is hope.”

Beatrix Weapons came to Hueco Studio with an intimate, playful, melancholic and free electronic session. A conversation about Ableton, IDM, prejudice, festivals, friends, production and the need to make music from the only possible place: your own.