Halfway into my video call with Sara Landry, the electronic artist who has come to be known as "The High Priestess of Hard Techno," a lamp casting a subtle green glow within the frame of her iPhone begins flashing. Most people would consider this electrical surge a forgettable occurrence. But not her.
"This light will flash at me sometimes, and whenever it does, I take that as a sign from a spirit that I'm speaking the truth," Landry says. "That's how I know that I'm on the right path."
The results of her current path are notable. This summer, Landry became the first hard techno artist to play the main stage at Belgian festival Tomorrowland; she sold 9,000 tickets to her sold-out double-header in Los Angeles, her 2023 Boiler Room set has over 6 million views; and, on Oct. 4, Landry released her debut album, Spiritual Driveby. The album is out on her own label, Hekate Records.
Landry is assured and has been pushed forward by spiritual signs on numerous occasions. A few years ago, a hypnosis session transported her to what she is absolutely certain were past versions of her life. She experienced being burned at the stake, like so many fellow women who struck fear in men, back in 1600s Salem. Before that, she was a priestess in the temple of Sekhmet, the Egyptian lion goddess. She arose from that deep state with a clear purpose: to stand in her power as an artist, even if it disrupts the status quo.
"Creating a way for these healing frequencies to reach people on a large scale — it's always been very clear to me that's a big part of what I'm supposed to be doing in this lifetime. As an act of service and a contribution," Landry says of hard techno.
Though it might not seem like frequencies built on a rapid-fire kick drum are particularly healing compared to, say, ambient frequencies (to which Landry listens on her own time), fast-moving music authentically resonates with her.
"I have hummingbird energy. So, the fast tempos have always felt very natural, as chaotic and intense as they can be," Landry says. By making and playing intense, chaotic music, she creates a space for herself, her collaborators, and the thousands of people who flock to her sets to "safely channel, shepherd, and express intense emotions: euphoria, rage, grief, sadness, anger, frustration."
The 12-track Spiritual Driveby is the cohesive, on-demand version of that space. "It's intended to be an altered state of consciousness that's a safe space to experience [emotions]," Landry says. "Electronic shows were where I really was able to first experiment with expanding my consciousness. The music was such an important part of that."
Spiritual Driveby spans a wide range of emotions, which Landry taps with an intricate and assiduous musicality. The somber and symphonic title track — co-produced with GRAMMY winner Mike Dean, who’s worked with pop stars like The Weeknd and Beyoncé — combines solemn choral layers and ringing piano chords. "Pressure" feels like pure joy, and features Latvian British artist LEGZDINA, who provides oscillating rap verses over galloping rhythms, harkening to Landry’s affinity for playing hard techno hip-hop edits during her sets.
"How can I surprise whoever's listening? How can I surprise myself as I'm making it? How can I create something that's interesting and engaging enough to really feel something different than what everyone else is doing?" Landry questions. "I like taking these normal, beautiful things and bringing them to this chaotic, otherworldly place."
Landry spoke to GRAMMY.com about exploring her full range of musical interests on Spiritual Driveby, making every track with a collaborator, and her role in bringing a historically underground genre to the mainstream
In the opening track, "devotion 396hz," two keywords are repeated: "freedom" and "devotion." How do you relate those words to your album and career?
Freedom and devotion are about creativity and being unafraid to do something different, even if people don't understand it at first, which has been a really big part of my creative journey.
Devotion is also an important part of being an artist. Developing a skill set and taking the time to reach a mastery level in something musical, which I feel isn't as common as it used to be. Now so much of the musical, creative, artistic, and technical process of being a musician can be outsourced.
I've spent all of this time and effort to be able to create art in this format. Sharing that ethos and creating a body of work that captures those feelings, emotions, and the chaos of the way life has been for the last few years. In order to truly push the bounds, it has to be authentic. You can't shortcut or cheat your way through real material. Forward-thinking, artistic innovation, or real creativity comes from within.
Oftentimes, very fast music discards traditional musicality; it’s all about raging. What is it like for you to know you can explore all your musical inclinations through your chosen genre?
That's the most exciting part for me. We're at such an incredible point in the advancement of music technology. Only for the last 10 or so years have we had this entirely new world. Every year the world gets larger.
As much as techno, hard techno specifically, is about good drums and good audio engineering — I think of that as pouring the foundation for a house. You have to pour the concrete, and you have to let the concrete set and make sure that everything is up to code. Only then can you build the house. But once the foundation's poured, you can build whatever type of house you want. The limit is really your imagination. That's my favorite thing. I get these drums done so I can actually cook on this sound design and see what comes through.
It felt so good after being on tour so much to be able to lose myself in that creative exploration process again and enjoy letting my autism [loose], which is really a big part of music production for me.
How do you feel about being a central figure in taking a genre that has only ever existed in the underground to larger, more visible forums?
It's really exciting. I'm incredibly grateful that people enjoy it so much. I never would have thought that my hard techno tracks would have me sitting here doing a GRAMMY interview.
I think the energy of the music and the ability of the music to provide a safe and healthy space for people to be wild and chaotic and frenetic during a wild and chaotic and frenetic time is part of the reason why it’s become this cultural tour de force for this new generation of ravers. It's a really special thing to be a part of. It's provided such a place of solace and acceptance for me, and I hope it makes other people feel the same way.
As we get further from the pandemic, I feel like the younger kids who are now just going to their first raves are searching for music that allows them to release their pent-up emotions from that harrowing time.
I think so too. It's this unleashing of this collective consciousness. I had the same energy coming out of the pandemic myself.
It's also a safe space for that energy. Because otherwise, where does that energy go? Internet chat forums? That never ends well. Leave it on the dance floor. That's the best and safest place for that. I’m happy to be of service. Providing a space for controlled chaos has always been my thing.
I think people expect my music to be very dark or weird or satanic, which it's not at all. I put a lot of healing frequencies and meditative stuff and mantras and chants and ohms that are intended to be an energy-healing type of scenario. It’s intending to be uplifting and mind-expanding and beautiful and supportive — as opposed to being an overcompressed kick and a Satan vocal.
A defining moment in your career was a hypnosis session where you accessed different versions of your spirit across different times, who then assured you of your mission as an artist. When you were making this album, did you transcend time in a similar way? And if so, like, where did your spirit go?
I feel like my soul connects to whatever energy is intangible. It’s this almost euphoric, religious type of experience. "Chaos Magicka" was one. Whenever Godtripper and I were together, we tapped into some realm. I don't know how we get there, but we end up with these insane, chanty, spiritual, esoteric tracks.
That's always the feeling that I'm trying to cultivate. It really is about aligning to the creative frequency and being open to receiving whatever creative message is coming through instead of trying to be like, I'm gonna make this.
A big part of why I was able to access that state so readily is because I had the joyful energy of working with friends, which is a healing and up-leveling energetic experience.
How do you think those different versions of yourself you accessed when you were hypnotized would feel about where you are now?
The messages I received from all the work that I've done and all of the successful attempts to receive these types of divine downloads have always been clear: This is what I was supposed to be doing. I'm supposed to be helping to elevate the energy levels of people who wish to connect to this new frequency.
It feels like that's really happening. And so it feels very authentic and in alignment, which is why I think the music is able to keep coming through and keep pushing these boundaries while having that overarching theme and tone.
If it stops working, that's a sign it’s not in alignment. But thankfully, as things have continued to snowball, that feeling has just increased, which is a really wonderful thing. I feel so blessed to be able to spend the time and make the music that I do and also share it with people and have it make them feel better, provide comfort, or provide joy.
Beyond elevating people spiritually, you are also literally inspiring people, especially women, to go after what they’re supposed to be doing when they see you playing these massive stages.
I think about this notion all the time. How many female Mozarts [were there], whose music did we not get to hear because they were limited by the societal norms and the expectations of the time? We would probably be so much further if women had been able to have our creative contributions be valued and weighed the same as men's are.
It's important to be able to stand up and say, "You can choose to live for yourself. You can choose your own path. Your life can be whatever you want it to be. All you have to do is be able to visualize it and tell everybody to go f— themselves when they tell you you can't do it. Then one day you'll get there."