caribbean
Revolution is not reform, it’s reimagining
“I don’t dream of fixing a broken system; I dream of building something else entirely.”
One of my favorite activities is wal- king home from the venue after
played, while listening to an extended mix that echoes and narrates my su- rroundings. Otherwise, it can look like decompressing alone and meditating, being pulled away by friends for a chat, cooking a meal and watching an anime or film, or having a cigarette outside the venue and people-watching. I don’t actually smoke, but I bought some of the capsule-flavored ones in East Asia on my most recent tour because you can’t get them in the States. Trying new things is indeed a guilty pleasure of mine. It’s rare that I ever feel like just a performer, because I often make mistakes in both my professional and personal life. I’m pro Make More Mistakes! It’s a friendly reminder that we’re not machines.”
The challenges of the music industry don’t stop at mental health; they extend into the politics of gender and representation.
“Apart from not truly being seen a majority of the time, it’s also ob- jectification, patronizing attitudes, inequivalent fees, degrading comments; honestly, the list goes on. The male camaraderie is undeniably palpable, to the point where just being una- pologetically you online or otherwi- se is somehow deeply threatening. My aesthetic choices are politicized, my technical ability has been questioned, and my intelligence has been castigated; things most AFABs or other gender- queer/trans dealing with.”
artists are constantly
Even so, they refuse to be consumed by the expectation to educate at the expense of their own joy.
“I draw boundaries. To be honest, I don’t mind having an honest conversation with people who want to learn; it’s just about finding the right time and place.
I’ve
After setting the post, I usually need a moment to decompress, but then I ideally like to be an open book. The best moments of clarity typically come from two people who don’t walk the same path of life, but can come to a mutual understanding. That’s why I believe sex workers deserve all of the flowers; they’re healers. I think it’s important to mention as well that not every sex worker may define their work as healing, which is completely valid and entirely their prerogative.”
Listening to x3butterfly talk, you realize how rare this kind of candor is. Most artists refine their stories into something marketable, something that presents well in a press release. They don’t. There’s no attempt to dodge the messy parts — the shame, the sex work, the loneliness that lingers even in a packed club. Instead, they lean into it, almost daring you to hold the discomfort with them. And that’s whe- re the power is: in their ability to turn vulnerability into a kind of armor, to make the cracks part of the design. It’s not easy to sit with, but it’s unforget- table.
As our conversation winds down, the energy shifts. We’ve traced childhood fractures, the weight of visibility, and the contradictions of nightlife, but the question that hangs over it all is about the future. What comes after survival, after
space for others? For x3butterfly, it isn’t about finding comfort inside a broken system; it’s about imagining something entirely different.
“It’s not possible to reform the system from within. Historically, radical chan- ge has been achieved primarily through mass mobilization, civil disobedience, external pressure, and revolution. In that regard, the only sensible approach is to cocreate and collaborate on projects that subvert the status quo. The ideal
40 speaking out, after holding
future is one of creating harmony and balance, healing each other
reform and community support, and moving with intention. It’s essential to continually ask ourselves about the kind of industry we want for the younger generation, as well as the industry stan- dards we’re actively creating or ena- bling. We must remember that there’s power in collective action and numbers. A future where opportunities don’t arise for abusers and predators, and people are truly held accountable for actions.”
through
their
“I want them to feel however they want to feel. I’d like that to remain entirely subjective. The beauty of performing is curating an environment where ever- yone is allowed to tap into their inna- te feelings and work through whatever comes up. It also doesn’t have to be anything profound; it can just be a night of fun. I hope the part where we meet is the connection to the spirit that I’m channeling into the sound. I’ve received a few messages lately that speak on exactly that anonymity element, and how they left feeling inspired by my vision, even with no prior knowledge of my work. That will always always always be touching to me. At times, this indus- try can feel soulless, vapid, uninspiring, and exhausting, but it’s those shared moments of appreciation and love that keep me in it.”
What lingers after these words is a refusal to compromise, even when the industry demands it. x3butterfly doesn’t dream of fixing a broken system; they dream of building so- mething else entirely, a parallel world where healing and accountability aren’t radical ideas but basic standards. It’s an audacious vision, but it’s grounded in the same spirit that animates their sets: creating a space where people can feel, heal, or simply dance without pretense. In an industry that often feels hollow, that kind of clarity feels revolutionary.
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