Drifting through Surusinghe’s mind and memory

Surusinghe, also previously known as Suzuki Drift behind the decks, has been wreaking havoc on the electronic music stage ever since the release of her first single, “BAD GIRLS” in 2022. Now, with the release of her new EP, “i can’t remember the name of this, but that’s ok,” Surusinghe welcomes her audience to the vulnerable and introspective facets of her character as a musician and a person. Her sound, percussion-heavy and exciting, transforms the bodies it moves through – a crowd becomes a flurry of excitable atoms jumping off of each other. Enamored by her work since the second we heard “Likshot,” a now club classic, we had the pleasure of sitting down with Surusinghe to talk about her tumultuous relationship with her memory and its influence on her EP, DJ culture, and Drifting FM – a music club for contemporary deep listeners. You’ve heard her music, whether you realize it or not, and now it’s time to get to know the mind behind your favorite bass lines.

How are you doing today?
I’m good, I’m good. My friend broke up with her boyfriend the other day and we went and got really drunk together on a Tuesday night, which is very unlike me. I’m usually very sensible from Monday to Friday, but this threw my week a bit off, so I’m now feeling like it’s Monday, but otherwise, I’m good. I’ve got some shows this weekend, and Glastonbury is coming up. I’m just getting prepared for that.

Amazing. Glad to hear that you’re doing well and you have to take one for the team sometimes haha.
Yeah, for sure. When your girls call, and they’re going through a breakup, you gotta go. It was actually really fun. But now, I’m a bit far off the scale or whatever it is.

Your new EP, “i can’t remember the name of this, but that’s ok,” is out! It’s insane, fast, sexy and it feels like the best parts of your project on steroids – How are you feeling?
I don’t really know. I try not to look at numbers or get too caught up in them. To be honest, I get anxious about sending my music to people. So many of my friends ask me to send them the tracks I make, but I always end up getting my manager to send them to everyone. I find it quite hard to share my work, so I haven’t had much feedback. But I’m happy, it’s been a long time since I’ve released music. It’s nice to share things, feel the momentum, and have something to be excited about. The industry can push the narrative that “you need to release music or else you’re not doing anything” –  and you can really get caught up in this mindset, so it’s nice to feel like you’re finally doing something with your life.

I get that. I can honestly say that the EP was a genuine joy to listen to. It’s always a pleasure to listen to your releases.
Thank you.

It’s true! I’m not trying to glaze you! To begin, I’m intrigued about the title of the project, could you dive into the meaning behind it?
Absolutely. So, just over a year now, I’ve started to suffer from short-term memory problems. And, yeah, I can’t remember shit. It’s been a really long journey, when I first started noticing it happening more and more I got really bad anxiety. And I would get in my own way. I felt so guilty about not remembering things, especially with the industry I’m in – every weekend, I meet so many people, and I would just not be able to place people all the time. I always hated that. I felt like I wasn’t putting in the time. I don’t ever want to be that person who’s not having authentic conversations with people and not taking it in.
I think this industry can be so transactional sometimes, and I don’t ever want people to think that I’m chatting and then forgetting about them. Then it just happened more and more. It got to me, and it got to the point where I stopped leaving the house. I didn’t want to go out on the weekends. But, it wasn’t just names and faces, it was also stories. My poor partner would tell me something on a Thursday and be like, “We’re doing that tomorrow,” and then the next day, I would ask what we were doing that day. So there was a lot of guilt on top of that, and I felt really bad. But, I started working on it – seeing therapists and everything. One of the things I learned about it was that it was my anxiety that was making it so much worse. When I started eating myself up or spiraling about it, I would remember less and less.
When I started to accept that this is my life, this is how my brain works, I found new ways of dealing with it. I think it’s getting a little better. And I am starting to have an easier relationship with my memory. So I think that was the second part of the title: i can’t remember the name of this, but that’s ok. I wanted to highlight the value of accepting and going easier on yourself because your brain can be your own worst enemy. 

That’s true, what relationship do you specifically see between music and memory?
Obviously, as a DJ, you need to remember the tracks you play. So many times I was sat in the booth and I could hear the track in my head, but I would be scrolling, scrolling, and I just can’t remember what it’s called. That’s frustrating for me, I just feel like I’m a shit DJ if I can’t remember what tunes I want to play.
But, again, that’s also helped me – I spent a lot of time on how I work. One thing that works really well for me now is marking all my playlists by venue. Once I’ve played a set, I’ll go back and put my track history on a playlist from that show. So then as I’m DJing, I can remember when I played a track, and I’ll be able to find it by show. There are all these little techniques that you have to pick up to help make it easier for you.

I don’t think this is something that anyone talks about. And hearing you talk about it is incredibly insightful and valuable – I’m really sorry it was so difficult for you.
It’s okay. I think by talking about this, we can also put less pressure on ourselves. I now accept it as well, and I’ve realised that, as long as you’re giving people the time of day, and you’re actually listening to them, the rest shouldn’t matter. People handle social situations differently – just be nice, be kind.

I think that’s a lovely way to frame it. Sonically, the EP is grimy and catchy – it’s a club workout, in your terms. What was the production process like?
I worked on most of the tracks with Cameo Blush, he’s a UK producer. And I don’t know, I love the idea of collaborating, I do it in every other element of my life. But working with new people is always a bit intimidating because you just never know what their styles are gonna be like. But John, who’s Cameo Blush, works so fast, he’s just an absolute wizard. So it was really, really nice working with him, I feel like we communicated really well. Whenever we had an idea, it came to life quickly – we were always on the same page.
We did “Kinda Like That,” together with an American band called Kassie Krut, they’re amazing and really sick, and it was cool to bring all different worlds together. I kind of like doing shit that people aren’t expecting. Even with Cameo Blush, he’s an amazing producer, but I don’t think people would assume our styles would be the most natural or easy fit. It’s nice to collaborate with people you wouldn’t expect to. I think that was the same with Kassie Krut — they’re a New York band from a different world. They’re not in the same, underground, dancey scene as me. It’s nice to bring worlds together and keep it interesting.

Definitely. Interestingly, you position yourself in the underground. As someone tuned into the electronic music scene, I would say you’re in the underground, but you’ve also transcended it.
It’s weird, I see myself in the underground, existing there — but you are right. I’m now trying to make music for more people and grow my community, and my audience.
I’m working with a label called dh2, George Daniels’s label, and that’s a different world. But I like that. I’m trying to grow and I have accepted that this is probably going to mean that the underground won’t see me there anymore. But, I think that’s okay too. Sometimes you have to grow and you have to try new things. You can’t be kind of stuck in one place forever.

I understand. To return to your sound, the percussive elements of your discography are the most fun and generally act as the backbone of your projects. You’ve previously, in different interviews, touched on how music provided an entrance into your Sri Lankan heritage. And I was curious if this EP is suffused with any influences akin to the sentiment.
My relationship with my South East Asian culture, is one that I’m still learning, developing, and understanding. I have a personal relationship that revolves around my family, music, production, and how I hear and understand music. But then I have this external one that I’m still trying to figure out, which is about being booked for a lot of Southeast Asian shows and being put in the category of Southeast Asian DJs. I’m really proud and I love that I’m in this world and can represent a lot of other artists that are in this. It’s especially great having women at the forefront of this, but then I also don’t like tokenistic shit either. I want to be booked because I’m a good DJ, not because I’m a South East Asian DJ.
I’ll still include all of the sounds and interesting rhythms in my music, things that excite me and make me dance. I’m trying to draw fewer comparisons now because I don’t want that to be something that people keep moving me towards. I want to be more than that. I want to be like a great DJ who is South East Asian or a great producer who is South East Asian. 

I completely get that. I was curious because I thought I heard some influences listening to the EP, but it wasn’t prescriptive.
Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I hope you can hear! It’s something that I love to include. It’s something that I hope comes through, but I don’t specifically sample a particular instrument anymore. I did that a lot when I first started producing. I was on YouTube, getting all these instruments and layering them all —  finding lots of samples. But now I find sounds that resonate with me, it’s not performative, but not as intentional either. I’m trying to be a bit more free with my production.

It makes sense. It parallels your interests.
Yeah, and maybe my journey with it as well.

Speaking on your journey, you stepped back from DJing in 2019, and came back in 2022 as a DJ and producer with your first track, “Bad Girls”. What has your return been like?
It’s good. With a performance-oriented job and DJing, you have highs and lows, and you get like fucking whiplash from it. I have really good days where I’m really enjoying what I’m doing, and I’m really finding my feet. And then like, two days later, I find myself thinking, “Oh my god, I’m so shit. I fucking hate this.” I think that’s probably the thing that I struggle with the most in this industry.
I’ve always worked in music — been around it and been able to talk about it every day. So, when I have these days where I think everyone fucking hates me and I’m a shit DJ, I find myself thinking that I should just go back to working in music and not performing because I can still be around it. You have this battle all the time: Do I need to be a performer? I fucking hate performative and model DJs that are just doing it for the clout. You have these like constant battles with yourself. So that’s been the hardest adjustment coming back, always making sure I’m doing it for the right reasons. It is a hard journey of mental strength to just put yourself out there.

Do you think the politics of the dance floor period evolved during your absence?
I think in terms of representation, within the gender binary, it’s pretty strong. There’s also a lot of great non-binary and trans artists out there. Obviously, there’s always more work to do, but I don’t think it’s nearly as bad as when I first started.
Have you watched Overcompensating, the new TV show? 

Yeah. A bit!
Literally every second joke is, “My dad’s a DJ,” and oh my God, I’m so embarrassed to say I’m a DJ. It was such a prestigious thing. Above my desk there’s my framed photo of Jeff Mills — he’s my idol. I love him, and to me what’s important is the art form and what he creates. It’s so much more than just being a fucking DJ.
I did a driving radio show yesterday, and the interviewer was asking me about my hot takes on photoshoots. One of them was that DJs shouldn’t be models and models shouldn’t be DJs. You can’t use DJing to help your fucking career in something else. 

This expectation of any type of creative artistry to be followed up by a persona of unattainable beauty is very odd.
I completely agree, however, my visual aesthetic is also incredibly important to me. I put so much effort into the visual language, I work hard to make these look the way they do, but that’s because it’s a part of my art form and it’s a part of my expression and I think it all has to kind of link together.
What I want to express is that I respect the craft of DJing so much, and I want people to see it in the way that I see it. The more that DJs are seen as party starters and hype people, it becomes less about the actual connection with music.

On that note, your visual aesthetic adds a really interesting element to your work — the drums get paired with monochrome silver tints or your physical image transforms with the project. Would you want to meditate on your visual process?
All credit goes to my best friend! She’s my creative director, her name is Shazana Sadikine and her Instagram is @ii.tears. She is really brilliant and always has heaps of ideas. We usually start with a few visual references and then she’ll usually come back with like a board of brilliant ideas.
She’s also a graphic designer, so she did my logo! She’s just the fucking best, it’s a dream working with your best friend. My entire team is fucking brilliant, whenever I ask them they always have great ideas for me and I’m really lucky that my managers and all the people I work with are just really talented — credit to them.

To drift off, I actually joined Drifting as soon as you announced it, I think it’s a valuable initiative. Where did the idea come from?
The original idea of the music club came from Cali, my manager; his dad and their friends meet up in a house and chat about a record. Wealways said we really wanted to do it,  but like my friends are fucking useless, and it was always so hard to like get them all into one room. I wondered how it would be if we did it with people who gave a shit and that’s kind of how it happened. The response has been amazing and I honestly love these sessions so much, I can’t even tell you — I feel like I’m fucking levitating. Having people that give a s**t about something that you care about is lovely. It’s just nice to have other people care.

To end off, what’s next for you?
Wow, that’s a really good question, I’m starting to work on new music. I’m really enjoying working with the label dh2, they have an amazing team and they’re so supportive. It’s honestly been one of the best experiences, so I want to do them proud and just keep working with them on my craft just keep working on my craft…

Thank you so much!
Thank you