In our 10 Minutes With … Ani Hao, we talk to the Hong Kong-based DJ about nurturing a mindful community through a shared interest in music and the joys of digging through records in a shop
The word “party” might seem like a frivolous activity for some, but according to Ani Hao, a Hong Kong-based freelance journalist and DJ who goes by Ani Phoebe on stage, a party can symbolise so much more.
“For people who love music, you’re defined by the parties you go to,” Hao says. “If I ask someone about their favourite party, I can tell what type of music or DJ they like, and what kind of friends they have.”
It is based on this idea that Hao founded a music collective called Bad Times Disco—with co-founder Yuki Kai in 2020—through which they throw parties, sell records and partner with vintage sellers and creatives to host pop-up markets, all centred on music.
Hao, who is also a vinyl enthusiast, is now set to open a physical record shop—called Bad Times Records—with her partner Daniel Stoelzner on January 11 at Chungking Mansions’ cultural space Heath. Here, vinyl collectors will be able to shop, attend workshops and know about the collective’s events. We speak to Hao ahead of the opening to discuss how music can build communities.
Could you explain the concept of Bad Times Disco?
It’s a multidisciplinary project around music. My co-founder Yuki [Kai] and I met while digging through records. We’re both DJs, so we started doing gigs and throwing parties.
My background is in socio-political organising, so there’s an aspect of community building and cultural organising to Bad Times Disco. We use music as a way to mobilise people for the causes that we care about.
What is Bad Times Disco’s musical identity?
We play across genres from ’80s to ’00s, but we’re characterised by an affinity for warmer sounds and percussion instruments.
How did you build a community during the pandemic, and what were the challenges?
The biggest challenge was being careful about Covid—we did small, open-air events, and the people who came to our gigs wore masks. During the third wave, we drastically reduced capacity.
The pandemic was important for a lot of music projects—it gave people time to reflect [on music]. I wanted to [host] a party that reflected [this social] context, as I found the situation in Hong Kong to be overwhelming. There were also unique changes happening here, and there’s no way for me to really express how strangely dystopian the 21st century felt, so I wanted to do that through a party.
A party combines joy and community, but it also acknowledges that we exist at this moment in time and we want to talk about it—we want people to engage in these problems.
Was setting up a physical shop always a goal for you?
Definitely not, because we didn’t think it was possible. It’s not easy to open a shop, not only in terms of renting, but also in terms of building up stock—that’s really important as it determines how good your shop is.
We sell records because we want to exchange music with people who are excited about the same stuff. A physical sale is something of a luxury, and while I prefer selling to people in person, we’ll also sell online when we open the shop.
Heath [Chungking Mansions’ new retail destination] approached us first, as we were initially talking about hosting a party, then they asked if we wanted to open a record shop. Having this physical space is going to create more of a community [of music lovers].
What are your goals for 2024?
I really want the areas of our work to overlap, for example, for our shop customers to attend our parties, for the party-goers to do mutual aid, solidarity work and so on.
We’ve had regulars who are part of dance crews host dance workshops, and I hope that we’re able to use the space to host others such as magazine makers and visual artists for exhibitions. We also want to host workshops about de-escalation as a conflict resolution method, consent-based practices for creating safer spaces and other practical topics.
What do you think of Hong Kong’s appetite for vinyl records?
I think that the appetite has been there the whole time we’ve been in operation. I remember when we first started selling out of a pop-up at the end of 2020—not expecting anything— [Yuki and I] brought two crates, and we sold half our records each. I took the crates to a bar after, and the bartender from across the road came over and bought a record too.
I think the impact that we’ve had is making DJing with records at clubs and festivals more trendy. There’s also a couple of key people in Hong Kong who play with vinyl, so it takes a village.
What three tips do you have for those looking to start collecting vinyl?
First, a safe way to start is by looking for artists released by the same label—labels have musical identities, so if you like one artist, chances are you’ll like another.
Secondly, I look for the year, because that tells me a lot about the music. There’s a very particular type of sound that comes out of ’86 or ’93, for example.
And finally, buy something new that you want to discover. You can get a copy by an artist you like for sentimental reasons, but if you want to listen to music you already know, you can find that on Spotify and YouTube. The point of digging is to find music you don’t know.
NOW READ
Topics





