“Oh my god!” Yaeji cries with a laugh of disbelief the next day, when she hears that her show had been hailed as “historic.” She tells me she’s increasingly reminded of her position as one of the few Asian-American women in the spotlight — and its accompanying responsibilities. “On this tour, so many Asian girls came up to me and said, ‘I’ve always wanted to DJ, and seeing you do it makes me want to start,’” she says. “That’s making me realize this is not just about me anymore. It’s affecting my community, as well as everyone watching and listening to me.”

A queer Asian zeitgeist seems to be brewing in Brooklyn nightlife, with the ascent of parties like Hot ‘N Spicy and Bubble_T and the activist crew Yellow Jackets Collective. Many of these parties explicitly prohibit culturally appropriative costumes and ask guests to check their “white nonsense” at the door. Yaeji’s Curry In No Hurry party is more subtle but no less political — the rich smell of curry wafting through a dancefloor is a shakeup of club norms that speaks to any person of color who has ever been teased for bringing “smelly” food to school.

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In the past six months or so, she says she’s been having more talks with other Asians who share her frustrations around navigating an underground arts community that’s mostly white. “Something I’ve been thinking a lot about is, as Asian-Americans, we don’t speak up as much — we want to do the right thing and move on,” Yaeji explains. “I have my own reasons for not speaking up. I was the minority everywhere I went. No one would listen to me, and I was scared of saying something wrong and being attacked. I feel different now. If we’re the ones that are marginalized, we all have to help each other. That goes for not just Asian-Americans, but if you’re queer or black or trans. Everyone should be uplifting each other.”

I ask if, on the other hand, she sometimes feels pigeonholed by all the attention on her cultural identity, as there is often a tendency to focus on what minority artists represent, instead of who they are. “Sometimes I feel like people are too hyper-aware of it, and that just reminds me that it’s not normalized — it’s still not equal,” Yaeji says. “People are focusing on something that’s just a part of me. But that’s not all of who I am.”