Interview by Joe Leonard-Walters | Edited by Passion DzengaSince its launch in 2021, Echobox has been turning the volume up on community radio, offering a platform where voices usually kept at the margins take centre stage. From sonic experiments to subcultural celebrations, Echobox is carving out space for radical expression—and few shows encapsulate that mission quite like The Queer Agenda.Now, you might be wondering—what exactly is The Queer Agenda? A manifesto? A mission? A myth? According to the trio behind it—Jackie, Micklin and Iona—it’s “just a bunch of hot lesbians” (Said Nobody, 2025). But dig a little deeper, and you'll find a cultural collective making serious moves in Amsterdam’s queer scene. From photographic calendars of queer venues to sweaty DIY club nights and full-on takeovers of iconic institutions like Paradiso, The Queer Agenda is creating space, visibility and plenty of mischief for queer women, trans and non-binary folks.In this interview, we caught up with the brilliant minds behind the mic to talk about the origins of the collective, the ethos of their Echobox radio show, and the queer anthems that soundtrack their lives. From carabiners with exes' keys to Kingsnight strip clubs, they've got a lot up their sleeves—and you're gonna want to tune in. You can catch up with this show now on Echobox Radio.What is The Queer Agenda? What do you have up your sleeves? ‘Just a bunch of hot lesbians’ (Said Nobody, 2025).The Queer Agenda is a collective that organises a range of cultural initiatives, focusing on events, photography, that increase the visibility of queer women, trans and non-binary people, and also create new spaces for this group.We are composed of three people: Jackie, Micklin and Iona, and collectively have backgrounds ranging from photography, styling and film production to social science, art direction and campsite entertainment (this list is not exhaustive). Up our sleeves we collectively have a carabiner with an ex’s housekey, too many rings, a 35mm film camera, a USB with multiple heartbreak playlists, nail clippers and a protein bar- if you must know. How did the collective come about?The Queer Agenda came about quite serendipitously. So, the OG founders are actually Micklin and Jackie, who together created a photo calendar of queer venues across the city with models from the community, to act as a guide for new queers in the city, and to document queer spaces and people. This calendar was called The Queer Agenda (queers in a calendar, you get it, right?). This project was a huge success, with the calendar soon after being seen everywhere, from the bar at Pamela, to the toilets at Footy and even your new situationship’s fridge. Just after the calendar had been launched, Iona started running a queer live music clubnight called SNEAKOUT. She wanted to create more variety in the queer nightlife sphere and have a night that wasn’t only centred around electronic music (…and also play there with her band so people would find her cool and interesting). After the success of the first three editions, SNEAKOUT got a slot at Paradiso (e.g. big boy full building Paradiso) the week after pride, which we called ‘Pride is Not Over’. This was the first collaboration in our current configuration, and we managed to pack our Paradiso with nearly 1000 queers. We thought that we must have been doing something right, so we decided to continue- and here we are!After that, we continued to run more projects together, and officially tied the knot last March after moving into an office together at TILLATEC (class U-haul), which is still the TQA HQ. How does the ethos of the collective extend into the show?We like to keep things fun and non-pretentious- in both our show and the work we do. I think conversations around queerness can often be quite heavy, and whilst these conversations absolutely have their place, I think we should seize any opportunity to laugh at ourselves, as well as making each other laugh, which we try our best to do during our show. The world is very quickly becoming a more difficult place for our community, so if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. We like to do both, but think we should, as much as we can- laugh. Do you have any queer anthems that connect to your show? What makes a queer anthem in 2025?I have three queer anthems that are really cornerstones of our show.I play this one a bit too often. It is a cheesy 90s heartbreak banger by the Outhere Brothers- about a man being in love with a lesbian, but it simply isn’t meant to be. Don’t cry brother, we’ve all fallen in love with straight girls too. A 160 club banger by local rap duo LIONSTORM- sounds sexy mixed into any 160 track- I mean ANY. Give it a listen, give it a mix and you’ll thank me later!This banger is part of a whole EP of Sapphic bangers called ‘Anthems for Lezzies’. This particular track contains sirens beckoning all lesbians to the dance floor. The plot thickens when they throw in samples from ‘The L word’ theme tune (if you don’t know what that is, do your homework). Overall, great stuff, 11/10.What have you got coming up that we should look out for?Our Queer Agenda is actually very full in April- so I have a lot to tell. The one I am most excited about is the XXXXL Queer Strip Club in collaboration with Striptopia on Kingsnight- essentially we are opening a queer strip club for one night at TILLATEC because we wanted to make Kingsnight a bit more sauuuuucy. I know you’re intrigued- just come. We are also organising an opening event for the Josephine Baker exhibition at Verzetsmusem on the 16th of April, which will have an amazing panel and also the chance to see the exhibition + get some gratis welcome drink.There is lots more on our instagram, so check give us a follow on instagram at @thequeeragenda.ams Don’t let the name fool you. While it might conjure up images of sizzling pans and secret recipes, Garlic & Onions is less about the kitchen and more about taste—in all its forms. Named for two everyday ingredients Bella Hall can't live without, the show is a celebration of the music that nourishes us daily, just like a good meal.In this interview, Bella peels back the layers of her creative process, sharing how a deep dive into her own musical archive turned into a personal sonic diary. From memory-driven mixes to childhood nostalgia and genre-free journeys, she’s creating a carefully curated audio scrapbook—one emotionally resonant show at a time. Ready to cry, groove, and maybe get a little hungry? Let’s get into it.  You can catch up with this show now on Echobox Radio. What recipes have you been cooking up on Echobox? When I came up with the name for my show, I debated if I should incorporate the theme of food more literally. Still, I decided against it because I realised the main purpose of the name was to create a strong visual identity behind it (shoutout to Stan Hillen & Meryl Barthe for helping me) and not directly link it to the music. But so often, people think that food or cooking is the idea behind the show. Though I love cooking, really, the Garlic & Onions show name is inspired by the fact that I love garlic and onions, in all their forms, and eat them every day just like I listen to music every day. Having studied philosophy I often feel the need to make things deep and have lots of meaning. By naming my show after such everyday objects, I stepped away from that in a way I have really been enjoying. What made you want to start your show?Over the years, I have collected a decent amount of music, and so often, I found that they would just disappear in one of the many playlists I have on my USB or at the back of my record collection. So, to kind of counter that, I wanted to do a show that actually used my existing collection as inspiration. I also wanted every show to have a super specific theme that wasn't genre-related necessarily.  I find my creativity flows best when I put certain constraints on myself. By starting the Garlic & Onions show I made myself go back to my collection in such a fun and creative way. Sometimes, all it takes is for me to listen back to one song I used to listen to a long time ago to inspire a whole theme and then mix around it.  I have found that the stronger my theme, the better my mix is, which is also usually the case with all my mixes.  My ultimate goal with the show is to create a thematically organised mix archive of my own archive of music. You said that this month's show is a very personal one - What do you have planned?You will just have to tune in! No, but the mix is inspired by my first conscious memory of listening to music and the specific time and place I was in. The mix might actually contain one or two songs from back when I was a child, but mostly, it will be music I have collected over the years that are able to transport me back to that exact time and place. Genre wise it will be very much outside what I usually play, so it will be quite vulnerable as well. But I also think you can quite easily draw a red line between the music I grew up with and what I listen to now. What's you favourite track from your shows so far?Offff this is, of course very hard as my shows are based on and contain songs that have been with me for a long time. I think that my favourite mix so far would be the one I called "moodstep" I think the theme and the way the mix came together was super solid. However, my favourite track is probably the track that inspired my "Unstable" mix, aptly called Unstable by OCB. This is one of my all-time favourite songs ever, so it felt natural to make my first mix be inspired by this track. Tune in to Echobox - broadcasting from below sea level every week, Thursday until Sunday.

Interview by Passion DzengaSome brands start with a pitch deck — West Milan Club started with a connection. What began as a tight-knit creative crew has grown into one of Italy’s most exciting underground fashion movements. At the heart of it all is Shiva, the rapper whose sound helped define a generation, and his longtime collaborator and creative director, a Cuban-Italian filmmaker with a passion for style and storytelling. Together, with a team of designers, friends, and local talents, they’ve built more than just a brand — they’ve built a movement rooted in community, culture, and authenticity.In this interview, we spoke to Ivano from West Milan Club and we went behind the scenes of how the brand came to life, why its name carries the weight of a neighborhood, and how the team’s outsider perspective became its greatest strength. From DIY pop-ups and grassroots marketing to deeply personal graphic design and a bulldog mascot that symbolizes loyalty, the story of West Milan Club is one of hustle, heritage, and heart.How did the West Milan Club come to life and what sparked the idea?  It started pretty organically. The brand came out of a team — I’m the creative director and handle project management. We also have two graphic designers who work on visuals who go by the name notfoundstudio, and Shiva, the rapper, is the founder and central figure. Shiva and I go way back — I’m also his video director. He’s built a strong identity here in Italy with his own label and studio. He had the idea to start a brand, and I’ve always been into fashion. We clicked creatively, and since 2022, we’ve been building this together.Can you tell me a little about the name West Milan? Are you all from there?  The name comes from Shiva’s roots. He’s not originally from Milan, but his grandmother is from the west side. He grew up around there and had most of his early success in that area. His label is called Milano Ovest, which translates to West Milan. We chose that name to represent our area and the side of Italy people don’t usually see — not just the pretty tourist spots, but the outskirts and neighbourhoods where real stories happen. Our models and team all come from that area too.Milan is known for fashion, but you guys clearly have your own lane. How would you describe your approach to style, and what makes it uniquely yours?  We’re building a style rooted in our identity. Growing up, a lot of the fashion we liked was hard to access or expensive. Especially in the hoods, people stuck with sportswear like Nike. So our idea was to bridge that gap — bring the fashion we love to our community. We're in the music business, we love fashion, and we wanted to create something that speaks directly to our people. I’m not from Milan originally either — I’m half Cuban and from a small village near Milan — so when Shiva and I met, we connected over our shared vision. He brought the Milan side, I brought the outside perspective.Do you think that outsider perspective gives you an advantage?Definitely. When you come from the outside, you see the bigger picture more clearly. You’re hungrier. I came from a village with maybe 1,000 people. So arriving in Milan, I saw all these opportunities and wanted to make the most of them. Sometimes people already in the scene can’t see that, but I think that’s what helped me bring something new to the table.How important is community to your brand, and how do you keep that spirit alive as you grow?  That’s the key to everything. We had a strong community even before we started the brand. Because of our relationship with fans and the people around us — doing giveaways, meetups — we had that support. Once we launched the brand, we kept doing the same things. We even gave out 100 t-shirts in Milan during an event. We did pop-up stores, and always brought people from the community in behind the scenes — during shoots, styling, whatever.  Even when Shiva was arrested — first for five months, then on house arrest for a year — and couldn’t promote or release music, the community carried us. Our connection with them kept the brand alive. Music, fashion, and our neighborhood are the three pillars of everything we do.When you say you involve the community, you really mean they’re part of everything — models, photographers, stylists?  Yeah, 100%. We’ve got three models who started just by being part of the vibe, believing in us. One of them is building his own brand now, and we’re helping him grow. Another guy, Demba, didn’t even have a clear role at first — he was just always around, super passionate. Now he works closely with me and helps push the culture. We try to lift up anyone who’s part of the movement.Can you tell us a bit about the pop-ups West Milan Club has done in the past?We mostly drop online, but last year we had our first physical temporary shop. It gave people a chance to see the collection in person and understand who we are. It was also a chance to meet the community and grow from that. Our last event lasted three days and included gifts and printing. We also collaborated with More Money, a brand that supported us during tough times and helped develop one of our most consistent collections.What’s the goal of these pop-ups?We’re building an experience. Even though things can get messy with multiple plans, we’re trying to blend our clothing drops, community events, and musical projects together. We want to mix past, present, and whatever resources we have to do the best we can.You’re activating both online and in-person communities. How does the team support that?Yeah, for sure. A lot of the team are friends and multitask on everything. For example, Shiva’s personal manager and security also help with our pop-ups. Someone who works on music auditions is also the guy I call to get 100 t-shirts printed in two days. We all help each other out.West Milan Club has a unique visual identity. Can you explain the meaning behind the Bulldog mascot and your graphics?The bulldog is like our gang’s mascot—Shiva bought a dog years ago that became symbolic for us. It became one of the graphics for the brand. Our graphics often mix product ideas with a concept or a word that reflects our story. For example, the Cholo collection was inspired by West Coast Mexican cholo culture. The West Milan Gun Club drop was a nod to a real-life incident with Shiva, and it symbolized exclusivity and warning—like “keep out.”Tell us about your collaboration with More Money?That was our first official collaboration. They represent the hustler side of things while we’re more like rebels—our color is red, and we use the word “demons” a lot. The concept was “More Money, More Sins,” reflecting Milan as a city of sin. The graphics were gothic and referenced nighttime, a flipped perspective of the city’s religious identity.This recent collection included women’s wear. Was that a first for you?Yeah, it was the first time we designed specifically for women. Before, women would buy our unisex tracksuits and t-shirts, but this time we added bras, skirts, and tube tops. It was possible because the collab gave us space to do a full collection. We want to open up to the women’s community, even though it’s a different market.

Words: Shawn Alexander AllenYou may be wondering, ‘but Shawn! There’s a list of - counts fingers - one, two … TEN great characters I can list! Miles Morales, Franklin from GTA, the NPCs in Horizon Zero Dawn, Travis Scott in Fortnite, and the Carlton dance and… and… I mean, I could go on!’ And you’re absolutely right. Those characters do exist. Some of them are good, great even. But here’s the thing: how many Black people were involved in bringing those characters to life? How many were in charge of those teams? And why does the “Killmonger” haircut have the games industry in a chokehold? The key answer to these questions, and more, is what I said, that Black representation in games is bullshit.First, let me introduce myself. I run an independent game development company that pushes culture forward in games. I’ve worked at Rockstar Games and Major League Baseball, and I’ve released all manner of games, from tiny story-based games to VR home run derbies and, of course, some of the biggest games in the world. The first game I shipped at Rockstar was GTA (ed. Grand Theft Auto, among the best-selling video games ever) IV, after all.  Now that that’s out of the way let me give you a brief history of how we got here. Most early games with Black characters in them were sports games, and that representation was all over the place, with characters ranging from pixelated abstractions of the visages of athletes and sports-adjacent celebrities to straight-up racist stereotypes. Sure, there was Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out!!! (where he was the bad guy?), but there was also Frank Bruno’s Boxing with a character called “Tribal Trouble” who looks like the worst stereotype. He even had a bone through his nose. Sometimes there’s a Black character who was “2P”, as in 2nd Player. Like in the Taito game Crime City, where the first character looks like Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon (aka Martin Riggs), the Black “2P” character looked like… a random Black guy in a suit. While they got Gibson’s looks down pretty well, they couldn’t even bother infringing on Danny Glover’s likeness a little bit.For a while, the Black character was always the 2nd Player, and/or a sports player, and/or a celebrity. There was M.C. Kids, an official (and batshit insane) McDonalds game, where the Black kid on the cover is … the 2nd player. At least he’s on the cover? There’s a whole host of basketball games, and even Will Smith and Jazzy Jeff were in NBA Jam. And then there’s fighting games and the beat ‘em up sub-genre where Black folks were once again, the 2nd or 3rd tier character, usually with the white guy up front and center. In fact beyond white characters, the 2nd most prevalent beat ‘em up characters were the Ninja Turtles. Are the Ninja Turtles Black?For me, the first really great Black character in a game was Micheal Leroi from Shadowman on the N64 in 1999. He was a Blaxploitation character who had to travel to hell and kill a bunch of white serial killers to save the world, which I was completely on board with. A Black dude IRL at least voiced him. His co-star, “Agnetta” had the worst wannabe voodoo accent, and with the help of IMDB many, many years later, I found out she was a VERY white woman.  Fast-forward and Black characters have definitely gotten better. But not because the industry wanted them to. It took some very key people to move the culture forward and bring about the best Black characters, and it was only the independent games uprising of the 2010s that we really saw a change in WHO makes the games. This is even more egregious when you look at how games REALLY got their start. I found out, with much of the world in the 2000s that Jerry Lawson, a Black programmer and technological innovator, was key in advancing the tech that allowed the games industry to exist as it does today. He was part of the team that made the Fairchild Channel F, the first game console to use cartridges, which paved the way for everything since. He also founded his own company and developed some games, but he saw his company destroyed by the video game market crash in the ‘80s. It seems only fitting that a Black man who innovated in a mostly white industry would get lost in the shuffle because that is the story of the games industry and representation. The fact that the industry made billions on cartridges, and Jerry Lawson’s name only began popping up decades later, is basically the story of American business. (Look up Uncle Nearest) Why does this even matter, right? ‘They’re just games!’ They’re for recreation! Maybe you don’t even pay attention to your character's appearance in the games you play, which is obviously a lie, but you do you. These are popular refrains from folks who claim to be fans of games while being fine with the cultural stagnation of the medium. I’ve even seen supposed Black folks proudly beat their chest about how they are “gamers” and don’t care about representation on message boards and social media, often trying to refute a Black person asking, ‘Where the Black people at?’ I’m not sure who they are trying to gain brownie points with, but that ain’t it.  Games are a cultural art form like film, music, comics, animation, you name it. In fact, games, video games specifically, can encapsulate ALL other art forms, which is super special and should be celebrated. For me, as a Black kid who had aspirations as a musician, a comic artist, an animator, and a film director at one point in time, when push came to shove, video games, with their unique interactive elements was the one true artform that could satisfy what I wanted to do with my own art. That's what I do. I make cool art, as I am an artist and writer first and foremost, and I work with dope musicians, including some of the biggest and best indie Hip-Hop artists including Open Mike Eagle, Mega Ran and AIRCREDITS, to make my games even cooler. But beyond me, there’s a small but mighty contingent of independent Black game developers who are bringing the representation to games but not through tokenism or “forced diversity” (I mean, all fiction is “forced” to exist, ya dig?) but through sheer force of will in making their art. A few years back, a budding developer by the name of Derrick Fields reached out to me. They wanted to know the ins and outs of game dev. We had a great conversation, and now, Derrick has their own studio Waking Oni Studio, making games with a fusion of Japanese and Black art. The first release was the very fun Onsen Master across multiple platforms.  Very recently I met C.Bedford who is a relatively new face to games. They are an amazing illustrator with a poppin’ instagram and they took their talents to work with their partner on their first game, Sorry We’re Closed, a neon, queer reenvisioning of Silent Hill, and they worked with Okumura, an amazing rap duo with an energizing flow, to make their soundtrack pop. Someone who always seems like a fresh face, even if he’s been around for a minute, is Xalavier Nelson Jr. who is a powerhouse writer and design director (who got his start writing about games at the age of 12 by tricking websites into thinking he was an adult). Between himself and his label Strange Scaffold he’s put out a staggering number of games, with my favorite being El Paso, Elsewhere, a neo noir horror love story where you slow down time and blow away werewolves, vampire mummies and biblically accurate angels as the coolest low polygon Black protagonist this side of Shadow Man. It can be a bit daunting seeing the new talent coming through, because I often wish I had been able to make my own games decades ago. It’s weird to accept that I’m sort of an “elder” in the space, but I am comforted by knowing Justin Woodward, a fellow OG in the games industry, who I met about a decade ago at EVO, the world’s biggest fighting game tournament. He was demoing Super Comboman, an offbeat fighting platformer which had such an amazing art style. But Justin had a lot more going on. Beyond his company Interabang Entertainment, he has his other brands, including the MIX games, where he’s put out some dope retro inspired games including Jay and Silent Bob: Mall Brawl, and Rugrats. Speaking of the MIX, it’s also an event, serving as the premiere way to get indie games in front of the press, and has been for over a decade. The year after I met Justin he was running the indie space at EVO.I could go on and on, because even if we’re a small group, I know and love so many of the Black folks who are sticking around despite the difficulties of our industry. I’ve worked in the nonprofit mentorship/accelerator space for almost a decade now, and the success of Black folks means a lot to me.Something very telling is how several of these titles have this raw, visceral creativity behind them. I’d say directly, my game, Treachery In Beatdown City, as well as El Paso, Elsewhere, and Sorry We’re Closed have this unflinching “Blaxploitation” era style of eschewing the norms of the industry, taking existing genres and making them very Black, where we can fight power structures and win, just like in Blaxploitation films. One day I got a text from a few colleagues telling me that TreaAndrea Russworm, a professor at University of Southern California, was lecturing about Treachery in Beatdown City and its direct connections to Blaxploitation. I felt a very warm feeling that day.This representation, the full spectrum of Blackness on display through writing, directing, art direction, music composition, and more - is how you achieve real, transformation in the industry that has no way of just being turned off because we are here to stay. There was a time where we (the collective Black people in games) were being asked by those in the press, “Will video games have their Black Panther moment” reacting to the massive cultural success of the movie. The answer is complex, and requires a mapping of history. In short, Black Panther was a confluence of many different cultural forms coming together that simply wouldn’t exist without the Blaxploitation era of film. I wager video games are just now hitting their Blaxploitation era. But as we’ve seen with the history of games, they grow quick and fast as a culture, so maybe we’ll see it sooner than later.