In the 19th century, as unions throughout America pushed for the eight-hour workday, striking workers from coast to coast crowded the streets chanting a slogan for a better future: “Eight hours for work, eight hours for rest, and eight hours for what you will!” The last part of that slogan, the eight hours devoted to “what you will,” remains one of the labor movement’s most radical demands. The idea of leisure time for all, a space in the day to pursue whatever you want—be it something or nothing—is worth fighting for, especially as it becomes more elusive and harder to fulfill. Because in those hours you’re not toiling away or passed out, beautiful things can happen. The music of Momoko “Moko” Goto—aka the Tokyo-based DJ and producer Powder—is a testament to that.
By day, she works in the accounting department of a technology company in Shibuya. Doing mostly data entry and clerical work in a windowless office, she’s unable to listen to music until she takes lunch or when she makes her way back home. It’s at night, back in her apartment, she’s able to finally listen and create. That act of post-work creativity seems like a release from the pressures and banality of of the day. And holed up in her spartan home studio—a pair of synths, two drum machines, a turntable, a pile of records, and a laptop—she’s crafted one of the most vibrant and versatile catalogs of dance tracks in recent years. Even though she’s a genre hopper—her small and growing discography reveals someone curious about every imaginable vernacular expression of house or techno—Goto’s music is united by one overarching goal: Making the most of the hours she steals away from work and sleep, turning that time into pure positive energy. It gives her a music a very particular mood—a sort of focused and concentrated languor; a feeling of utter, electric relaxation.
The same philosophy is evident in her DJ sets, and with her latest release, an hour-long mix called Powder in Space, made for Tim Sweeney’s Beats in Space label, you’ll find everything you need to know about one of the world’s most interesting DJs and producers. Her mixes have a different set of values. They’re interested in what you might expect, like creating avenues for dancing and crowd pleasing, but she also spends a lot of time tinkering with tactility and texture. There’s almost a certain touchability to the music she selects on Powder in Space, like in the soft, downy noise and scratchy synths of the opener, Samo DJ and Hidden Operator’s “Захват Сзади Rox,” or the chunky woodblock percussion of Don’t DJ’s “Southern Shore.”
By creating a space that feels physical and close by, her playing toys with a listener’s sense of expectation. Even though the set, like all good mixes, flows in smooth, uninterrupted locomotion, surprise seems to await at every corner. That Powder can pull of a feat of casual DJ daredevilry like a three-song sequence in the middle of the set—moving seamlessly from galloping beats to sweaty noise music and then glitched-out breakbeats—speaks to her powers of control and invention.
But the best part of this series of songs is the pair of original productions she’s snuck in: “Gift” and “New Tribe.” Each, in a microcosm, explains what makes her such an arresting talent. The former, with its kaleidoscope of drum-machine pulses and strutting keyboard chords, is that Platonic ideal of vibrant leisure her music aspires to. The latter is a doozy in its own right—a daunting acid track that climbs and climbs until it breaks through storm clouds to be greeted by a chorus of angels.
More than anything, the real pleasure of this mix comes from how it invites us to slow down and appreciate the handiwork. It’s a patient and novel sequence of songs that beckons listeners into Powder’s headspace. Tucking into this one-hour mix—whether piecemeal or in its entirety, in the background or in a bout of focused listening—is all about carving out a sense of possibility and making Powder’s fantastical vision of downtime a thing of reality.
