Tales from the Echobox: Soft Break

Interview by Passion Dzenga and Liesje Verhave

Launching in 2021, Echobox has been forging a path for community radio by showcasing the diverse characters and concepts that surround their station. In this feature, we will be looking into one of the broadcasts that you can tune into, so get locked in and don’t touch that dial. 

Soft Break moves like a restless signal through contemporary club culture, a Rotterdam-rooted DJ whose sets feel less like genre exercises and more like living narratives. Pulling from jungle, dubstep, and grime, she slides between whispered melody and percussive pressure, from footwork’s controlled chaos to basslines that physically reshape a room. It’s a sound that’s already travelled far: from underground sanctuaries to main stages and institutions, touching spaces like Dekmantel, De School, CTM, RAUM, Garage Noord, and beyond. Always with the same forward-leaning intent.

But what makes Soft Break especially vital in 2026 isn’t only where she plays. It’s what she builds. As a driving force behind AMPFEMININE, she’s helped expand the ecosystem for femme-identifying talent through bookings, mixes, mentorship, and hands-on education. At the same time, her Echobox residency has become a kind of sonic laboratory: a place to test ideas the club doesn’t always allow, to take bigger risks, and to treat electronic music as a tool for placemaking. Designing worlds through rhythm, texture, and pacing.

In this conversation, we get into the freedom of radio, the discipline of the one-hour format, why skits and quiet moments still matter, and how mentoring brought her back to the core excitement of DJing. We also look forward: toward a three-month Suriname residency that will merge her sound with her visual practice and research into musical migration, diaspora, and the way traditional forms mutate in the laptop age.

You have a radio show on Echobox now, and before that you played a few sets on other stations. What has the Echobox residency been like, and what does it bring you?

This is really the first time I have had my own show. I have done a few guest sets with my collective, but Echobox made sense for me because there are so many tunes I don’t always dare to play in a club. I feel like I play what I want, but some tracks are just too crazy for a dancefloor context. Radio is another way to explore music and go deeper, and because there’s no direct audience in front of you, you don’t have that pressure of “does this make people move?” It’s more like being in your own living room, listening to music on good speakers.

Was it intimidating at first, being on radio?

Yeah, at the beginning I was nervous talking on radio because you don’t see who’s listening. Unless people say something in the chat, it feels like you’re talking to yourself, but also not. For my first show I wrote a full outline, minute-by-minute: what I’d say, what track would play when. But it felt overwhelming and took away the experiment. So after the first show, I stopped scripting.

How has it evolved since then?

I still plan my tracks and I plan my shows. I’ve also done specials, like a 100 BPM special, and my last one was a skit special. But I don’t plan what I’m going to say anymore. Maybe I’ll try again one day now that I’m more comfortable, but that very refined, polished approach doesn’t really reflect me.

Your sets often lean bass-driven and rhythm-heavy, but you also have a strong experimental ear. What draws you to those intense, percussive styles?

I love a lot of genres, but bass is home for me. I’ve always listened to bass music. And I also love experimental sounds. I’ve always listened to sounds that feel slightly off center), crazy textures, unexpected rhythms, especially combined with dreamy vocals, things you don’t always hear in a club. With radio, you can really explore that because you don’t have to make anyone dance. You can just follow the sound.

Does radio give you room to take risks you wouldn’t take in a club?

Definitely. I take more risks on the radio because there’s no direct audience response. Like, I might include skits in my club sets sometimes, but I couldn’t do an entire hour of skits in a club. Radio lets you build different kinds of storytelling: voices only, strange interludes, quieter moments.

What inspired the skit special?

Literally nostalgia. I was listening to classic skits, like the Outkast ones, and I thought, wait… where did all the skits go? There are still skits now, but they’re not as dominant as they used to be, where every album had two or three skits, an intro, an interlude, an outro. I missed that.

Do you think streaming and playlist culture killed skits?

Yeah, it doesn’t really accommodate them. And it’s probably also an industry thing like why put out a 30-second skit if it doesn’t “earn” the same way. But skits were also a soft break. A moment of quiet between heavier parts.

Do you think club culture needs more of those “breaks” too?

Yes. It doesn’t have to be 100% intensity all the time. Those little breaks make the impact stronger, it's like a pause to reset your ears.

Does the one-hour format change how you build your Echobox shows compared to a club set?

It depends. In a club set, I read the room. If I have two hours, my build-up might be half an hour. I’ll start at 130 depending on the slot and the context. With radio, sometimes I don’t go above 140, sometimes I start at 160. I can commit to one specific sound and stay there. Radio is complete creative freedom. Every month I can do whatever I want.

Do you like one-hour sets in general?

I actually do. I know a lot of DJs don’t, but I like how quickly you can change the feeling. When I first started DJing, I’d play 40+ tracks in an hour because I was so excited. I wanted to play everything. That changed over time because digging takes a lot of work if you mostly want to play with recent tracks and I learned some songs need time; they need a moment. Now I appreciate letting tracks breathe. 

You’re part of a collective, AMPFEMININE, but your Echobox show is solo. What’s the difference for you?

The Echobox show is really for me. At first, I had an idea to invite visual artists. I’m a graphic designer and explore what they listen to while they work, and how visual work could translate into sound. But I realised I also needed moments for myself and my sound. I’ve only had a few guests when I was away, but mostly I want to continue it solo for now.

What’s the concept behind the collective’s show?

It’s about collaboration, how collaborations come about, the struggles and the beauty of working together. It’s not only about music industry collaborations either. Last year we did a monthly one-hour show, but it felt too short because we wanted to interview a guest and also play back-to-back. So this year it’ll be two hours, every two months, so we can actually go deeper.

You also organised a panel talk around staying in music while becoming a parent. Why was that important?

It’s something we’ve wanted to discuss for a long time. Nightlife and aging makes you reflect, what happens if you want to become a parent? But also, what if prioritizing a career in nightlife is the path that feels most authentic right now, even if it means not becoming a parent? How do you continue? The biggest takeaway is simple: it takes a village. You need a healthy support system to keep going with the same energy. And online, it can look effortless when people are always out, always active, but it’s not easy, and not everyone has supportive parents or family. 

The collective also runs DJ education. What gap were you trying to fill?

We kept getting asked to do one-hour or two-hour workshops. And honestly, you’re not starting a DJ journey from one hour. So we applied for funding and built a longer course where people can actually learn and experiment. One hour is still better than nothing, but we wanted something real and extensive.

What was important about how you structured it?

Accessibility. A lot of DJ classes are expensive. Ours was affordable and it was a full package, an eight-week course, press photos, write a unique bio, make your own rider and record a radio set. It wasn’t just “learn to DJ so you can become famous.” It was about discovering music, discovering your sound, learning how genres can connect.

What does it feel like seeing people grow through the program?

It’s amazing. You see someone in week one who can’t do anything yet, and then later they’re closing a big venue. It’s beautiful to watch. One of the mentees, Meena,  just closed Export in Rotterdam.

What are the long-term goals?

Structural funding and a home base. A place where people can always come to practice. Because if you have to rent space to practice, it becomes less accessible again.

Has teaching changed what you personally get from DJing?

Honestly, it helped me regain my love for DJing. At some point, I felt like I had to choose between graphic design and music because I was working nonstop, seven days a week, morning to midnight. It wasn’t sustainable. And DJing is even less stable financially than design. So I lost that original reason I started. But mentoring brought it back, and seeing the excitement, the obsession with digging, experimenting, and discovering. That’s the core. It reminded me it should be for you.

You work across audio and visual worlds. Do you see a future where those practices merge?

Yes, definitely. I actually have exciting news: in September, I’m going to Suriname for a three-month residency. The project is about Surinamese music migrating to the Netherlands and how the diaspora is now playing that music loudly and proudly in the mainstream, while there was a time it wasn’t accepted. I’m interested in how those worlds collide, like mixing that traditional music with techno, or newer club forms. I don’t know the final form yet, but it might become a book or a short film.

Does Suriname show up in your DJ identity already?

Not directly, but I’m Surinamese, so of course - maybe in how I work with rhythm - changing tempo, switching patterns. It’s hard to explain what I’m doing sometimes. But yes, you could say it’s present in the polyrhythms and the way the bass and groove move, even if the references aren’t explicit.

What does this trip represent for you personally?

It’s spiritual. I don’t speak the language. I’ve only been back once. My grandparents came to the Netherlands in the 60s, and a lot of my family was born here, so there’s already a gap in connection. Music became my way of connecting without needing words. But now I also want to understand the rituals behind it, the stories, the deeper context.

Traditional music forms being made on laptops now, how does that interest you?

Because traditionally, some of these forms are made by groups. Live, communal, with multiple people, and now people are making it alone on a laptop with presets. I want to understand what that shift does, and how technology changes culture, sound, and authenticity.

Tune in to Echobox, broadcasting from below sea level every week, Wednesday until Saturday.