Brooklyn-based DJ, producer, and artist Sri, aka SrizzyBeats, is crafting a sound that’s both boundary-pushing and deeply personal — fusing Desi percussion and global club beats into something that’s entirely their own. A cancer survivor and trans artist, Sri’s work radiates resilience and joy, redefining what it means to belong on and off the dance floor. We caught up with Sri to talk about their musical evolution, identity, and the growing wave of South Asian artists reshaping representation in music.
You describe your sound as blending Desi percussion with global club and electronic influences. What does that fusion mean to you, and how did it evolve from your early alt-hip-hop roots?
I grew up very much on hip hop and alternative hip hop — that’s where my early influence comes from. When I moved to New York and immersed myself in more dance music, I found this new love for it. I still love hip hop, but dance music is so much more fun to spin live.
I like to call my version of dance music “global club” because I don’t see myself as a strictly Desi DJ who only spins Desi remixes. I love incorporating bits of Desi percussion or samples alongside sounds from all sorts of cultures. I don’t want to stick to one genre — I want my sets to feel like the world.
You’ve shared that you’re trans and a cancer survivor — resilience seems to play a big role in your story. How has that shaped your approach to music and performance?
It gives me a certain drive and motivation that comes through in everything I do. I had cancer from ages nine to seventeen, so my entire childhood was marked by uncertainty — not knowing how long I’d live. When I finally went into remission, I felt this deep desire to do all the things I’d missed out on.
That’s what pushed me to pursue music without hesitation. And being trans adds another layer — I want to represent my community because there aren’t many trans Desi DJs. It’s important for me to take up that space and show what’s possible.
You’ve performed everywhere from The Lot to New York Fashion Week. These spaces blend art, fashion, and sound — how do you navigate your identity across such different worlds?
Since moving to New York, I’ve played in so many different spaces — queer, non-queer, Desi, everything in between. I like creating art that bridges those communities.
I curate my sets based on where I’m playing, but I always bring something that’s deeply me — something very trans, very Desi. Even in spaces that might not have heard anything like that before, I want to introduce them to it. That makes it special. Sometimes I might be one of the first Desi trans DJs people are seeing, and that’s powerful.
How do you want people to feel on the dance floor when you’re spinning?
Free. Imaginative. I want them to let go, dance, and imagine brighter futures. My hope is that people leave my sets feeling more healed than when they came in.
How do you stay rooted in your cultural identity while pushing sonic boundaries?
There’s so much room to experiment while still being authentic. I produce my own tracks, and I’m always trying to create new fusions that haven’t been heard before.
For example, my latest song “Thimiru” started as an experiment — I wanted to see what a house track would sound like with a Kuthu groove layered beneath it. (Kuthu is a Tamil style of drum-based rhythm.) The lyrics are also proud of both being Tamil and being queer. It felt like everything I am came together in that song.
You’ve opened for artists like Raja Kumari and Yung Raja. How do you see this new wave of South Asian artists changing representation in music?
This new wave of Desi artists is making a big difference, especially for marginalized voices within the South Asian community. For a long time, the scene was dominated by men or people with more access to resources.
But now, with social media, the playing field is more level — artists from all backgrounds can be seen and heard. It’s opening doors for so many of us.
There’s a growing conversation around community and belonging among diaspora artists. What role has community played in your creative process or healing journey?
Community is everything. I was actually unpacking this with my therapist recently — when I started posting on TikTok a few years ago, it was because I didn’t have community at all.
I had come out and had to let go of a lot of people from my old life. I was living alone in Connecticut, with no queer friends, no musicians around me. So I turned to TikTok to connect with people — and that decision pretty much sparked my music career.
Music, to me, is one of the best ways to build community.
Looking ahead, what’s next for you — and what kind of legacy do you hope to leave behind?
Right now I’m focused on performing — I’ve been playing a lot of gigs and want to keep that momentum going. When things slow down, I plan to release more of my own tracks and remixes with other artists.
As for legacy — I hope to pave the way for the next generation. I want to make it easier for trans artists and other underrepresented musicians to access opportunities without gatekeeping.