Yova: an invitation to feel

YOVA has a sincerity that settles the atmosphere the moment she enters a room. Her voice is calm but certain, her thoughts deliberate yet deeply felt. In a city like Berlin, where volume often wins over vulnerability, YOVA stands for something different: emotion without apology. Her sound draws from trance, hard dance, and melodic textures, but what defines her most is her honesty, a refusal to hide behind intensity.

Raised on her father’s old Trance compilations, she grew up surrounded by melodies that stretched time. What began as childhood nostalgia has become the foundation for her artistic identity. Now a resident at GOAT BALL and Elysion, YOVA has built her name not through spectacle but through authenticity. Her music, like her energy, is tender but unshakable, a safe space for emotion in a scene that often resists it.

For YOVA, the story began in the car with her father, not in a club.

“It wasn’t one specific track,” she says. “It was those moments when we were driving somewhere, of course without my mom because she hated ‘that awful bass,’ and my dad would show me artists like Kai Tracid, Legend B, Talla 2XLC. He didn’t even care about their names as long as it was trance, melodic, emotional, and uplifting.”

Those long drives shaped her without her realizing it.

“At that time, I didn’t think about being part of this world at all. I was still completely in the role of the listener. But those long breaks and build-ups, the kind you don’t even dare to play in clubs anymore, they sparked something inside me.”

It wasn’t long before she began to create her own space.

“I started releasing my mixes on SoundCloud in 2023. That’s how Elysion first noticed me,” she recalls. “They were the first to book me in February 2024, and from day one they fully supported my sound. A few weeks later, I played for GOAT BALL, and it just clicked with them straight away.”

From there, her trajectory unfolded naturally.

“Both collectives had my back, and I was able to grow alongside them. My core sound hasn’t changed dramatically since then. Sure, I experiment from time to time, but at heart, it’s always been about the emotional side of electronic dance music.”

The Berlin scene offers endless opportunity but also endless pressure, especially for FLINTA* artists. YOVA doesn’t sugarcoat that reality.

“The opportunities here are huge. Still, the prevailing structures make it really difficult for FLINTA artists to be taken seriously, musically, technically, and personally. We have to fight for our slots, often just to avoid always being booked for the opening or closing. We have to justify our fees while also dealing with a lack of appreciation, disrespect, or even boundary-crossing behavior.”*

She points out that collectives like Silikon Berlin are crucial in changing that culture.

“They’re doing amazing work to create visibility and safer spaces for FLINTA artists,”* she says.

That visibility, however, comes with its own challenges.

“Even now, when things are slowly moving toward more equality, you still need to worry about being used because of your role as a FLINTA person. Sometimes it feels like you’re being booked to tick a box rather than because they genuinely like your sound. For me, the key is being clear with myself about why I want to be heard, not to fill a quota but to use the platform to show others: you can do this too, you deserve to be heard.”*

Her solution is simple but strong, trust intuition.

“If a booking request doesn’t feel right or I can tell it’s just tokenizing, I simply reject it.”

Beneath her confidence lies another layer of honesty, one not often discussed in club culture: social anxiety.

“Ever since I was a kid, I realized social situations were harder for me than for others,” she says. “That’s stuck with me, but now I can at least name it and handle it better. Being open about my social anxieties, even online, has definitely helped. Talking with friends and other artists made me realize that so many of them struggle with the same things.”

For her, openness is a kind of medicine.

“Just feeling I’m not alone has been such a relief. Less taboo, less pressure. It’s also about raising awareness among people who aren’t affected so we can create a comfortable atmosphere for everyone.”

And when she steps behind the decks, something shifts.

“When I start playing, it feels like all the anxiety disappears. I forget about everything else and it’s just the moment, the music, and the connection with the crowd. Maybe that’s part of why I love escaping into this world so much.”

She also finds balance in her creative rhythm.

“I love playing in front of people, but I really value the time I get to spend alone, focusing on my productions and other projects. Somehow, I draw energy and motivation from both,” she says. “The tricky part is when I leave the club and everything drops from 100 to 0. No music, no crowd, just me and the silence. That’s when I order some comfort food, try to relax, and by the next day I’m usually back to normal.”

In an era where visibility is almost a currency, YOVA remains grounded.

“Imposter syndrome kicks in as soon as I spend too much time scrolling through Instagram,” she admits. “Am I posting enough? Is my content good enough? How do I stay relevant if I can’t keep up with everyone else? Comparison and self-doubt are always there, especially when you mostly see everyone’s highlights.”

To protect her mental health, she keeps her digital life on a leash.

“I try to keep my social media use to a minimum. And if I do get lost in the feed, I remind myself, cheesy as it sounds, that there’s only one me, and I need to follow my own path in a way that feels right for me.”

She calls social media “a bit of both, a creative tool and a necessary evil.”

“It can get overwhelming quickly, especially when you feel like you always have to be active and available. Luckily, there’s the option to mute posts and stories, which helps a lot,” she says. “At the same time, I know that Instagram is essential for staying visible and promoting my music. I just love connecting with people in the scene, exchanging ideas, and finding inspiration. Honestly, I wouldn’t be where I am today without it.”

Perfectionism runs through her creative process, but so does self-awareness.

“As a perfectionist, I rarely experience the moment of being truly satisfied with something,” YOVA says. “That’s why it hits me even more when I do. Then I’m just like, yes, this is exactly it! To avoid getting stuck, I’ve started setting deadlines. Even if I sometimes miss them, it helps me not to stay on a project for too long.”

Her debut EP, Invitation To Feel, reflects that balance between discipline and emotion.

“The intro track Youth Yearning started as a small sketch when I was listening to a lot of Breakcore,” she says. “At that time, I was stuck in a creative block. None of my Trance projects seemed to work out, so I tried something different. That track ended up sitting on my hard drive for a while, but in the end, it turned out to be the perfect intro.”

She describes The Stars Cry as the emotional centerpiece of the EP.

“It’s an emotional Hard Trance piece that took me a long time to finish because I was never fully satisfied with it. Writing the melody was especially challenging. I draw a lot of inspiration from the 90s Trance legends, so the bar was set pretty high. I knew it was done when it still moved me even after listening to it over and over again, and I can still listen to it now without getting tired of it.”

The final two remixes by August Tange and Aexhy completed the project.

“I’m incredibly grateful for their contributions. They really brought the whole project together and made it feel complete.”

More than a debut, Invitation To Feel represents courage.

“For a long time, I held myself back because of perfectionism and fear of judgment,” she admits. “Releasing this EP feels like finally letting go of that pressure. It symbolizes growth and the courage to show my music as it truly is, with all its emotions and imperfections.”

And that’s exactly what she hopes listeners take from it.

“It’s an invitation to take a moment to remember, to dream, and to feel whatever there is to feel.”

Finishing her debut changed her perspective entirely.

“My biggest learning was to just go for it,” she says. “I realized I overthink too much, constantly questioning whether a project is good enough. Finishing the EP taught me that progress comes from putting myself and my art out there. And that’s the approach I want to carry into all my future projects.”

Her tone softens, but her conviction is clear.

“In the end, it’s all about creating and sharing music.”