Photo Credit: Paulo Vivanco
KARABA is a French-Congolese DJ/producer and former professional dancer at the forefront of Afro house.
A professional dancer-turned-DJ and producer, she’s quickly established herself as one of the most exciting new names in Afro house. Now based in Los Angeles, her path has taken her from France to Canada to stages across Europe and Asia, blending her global influences with a sound grounded in her Congolese heritage.
Earlier this year, she earned her first Juno Award nomination for Underground Dance Single of the Year with her breakout track Mad Mess. Her latest release, SIREN, continues to build on that momentum—setting the tone for her upcoming self-titled EP, KARABA, which fuses Afro house rhythms with her background in dance and deep respect for the genre’s origins.
With a combined following of over 1 million on TikTok and Instagram, KARABA is using her platform to spotlight rising Afro artists in her sets and bring more visibility to a scene she’s deeply invested in. Whether performing alongside Rampa of Keinemusik or sharing new music from her home studio, her focus remains the same: to create from a place of authenticity.
In this interview, KARABA talks about her journey so far, the inspiration behind SIREN, and how dance continues to shape her approach to music.
Your journey has taken you from being a professional dancer for Drake, Camila Cabello, and Selena Gomez to becoming a Juno-nominated DJ and producer. How did that transition happen, and what inspired you to step behind the decks?
I reached a point in my career where I felt like I had achieved what I set out to do as a dancer. Touring with A-list artists was my ultimate goal when I started dancing at seven years old, and I had accomplished that. But as a commercial dancer—mostly performing for other artists—I realized I couldn’t fully express myself the way I wanted to. I knew I had a bigger story to tell, and to do that, I had to step outside the dance world in a new way.
For many dancers, the next step is choreography or teaching, but I never felt like that was my path. I had always admired DJs, especially from going out to underground scenes in LA with my friends. So in 2016, I decided to take classes and learn how to DJ—and that’s really how it all started.
You’ve built a massive social following and use it to spotlight rising Afro acts. What advice would you give to DJs and producers looking to grow their audience while staying authentic?
Do what feels right to you. It’s easy to see what’s working for others and try to recreate it, but the key is finding what makes you unique and leaning into that. When I first started, I was just excited to share my art, so I never held back on who I was. I’m a high-energy DJ—I love to dance, smile, and let loose—and I want my audience to feel that with me. So I embraced that fully, and I think that’s what helped me build my audience. People connect with artists who are unapologetically themselves—at least, that’s how I connect with other artists—so that’s always been my approach.
What’s the story behind your new single Siren?
My whole upcoming EP is about my relationship with water and how that translates into my everyday life. 2024 was a very chaotic year for me, and I kept having dreams about water while also watching a specific documentary about deep diving called The Deepest Breath. That inspired me to explore the different ways we navigate challenges, drawing a parallel between that and diving into the ocean.
With that in mind, Siren represents the moment when I’m deep in the water, where I’ve finally found calmness and am moving with the flow rather than against it. The bridge is my favorite part—it’s heavily inspired by my love for Daft Punk. I wanted to create something mystical, galactic, and yet somehow hopeful.
If you could go back and give one piece of advice to yourself at the start of your DJ/producer career, what would it be?
Don’t overthink, especially as a DJ. I’m an overthinker, and it sometimes kills my creativity, especially when I first started DJing. I’d spend so much time perfecting my sets, which is fine—dedicating time to your craft is important. But I’ve learned that at a certain point, you have to let go and just throw yourself into it. I often strive for perfection, but that doesn’t exist. Some of my best sets have been the ones where I just flow with the music, without overthinking.
Coming from dance, I’ve always tried to perfect things, but DJing has helped me slowly break free from that mindset. Now, when I step behind the decks, sometimes I have an idea of what I want to do, and other times, I just let myself freestyle. It’s so freeing. The same goes for producing—I don’t overthink it. In the studio, I just let myself flow and see where it takes me
What’s your best networking tip?
Don’t be afraid of rejection. Last year was tough for me—I felt like I wasn’t reaching the places I thought I should be. It forced me to sit down and rethink how I needed to move forward. So, I knew I had to get myself out there and start networking. One thing about me is I don’t handle rejection well, but I quickly reminded myself it’s just a part of the business.
You have to push past that and really put yourself out there anyway. I knocked on a lot of doors, and I told myself, ‘What’s the worst that could happen? A no.’ And then you move on. It’s all about staying persistent.
I’ve had times where networking led to immediate opportunities, and other times when it paid off months or even years later. You never know what a connection will bring, but you have to keep showing up and putting yourself out there. That’s my best networking tip—don’t let rejection stop you, and always keep going.
For young women and underrepresented artists trying to break into the electronic music scene, what’s one lesson you’ve learned that they should know?
Embrace solitude. I still struggle with seeing many women like me in the genre I’m part of, and I’d love to see more of us represented. But I’m also aware that there are women who’ve paved the way before me, and even though I might not see full equality during my time, I’m still a part of that movement. That thought keeps me going.
We don’t talk enough about how isolating it can feel, especially as a Black woman in the electronic music scene in this day and age. That’s a very real experience. But accepting it, while reminding yourself that you’re contributing to something bigger—that the next generation will thrive because you exist—that’s what it’s all about.