In the liminal: Abimbola Akinola on Sound, Self-Belief, and Building Space. [INTERVIEW]

By the time she was toggling between MTV Base and Channel U with her sister, sound had already made its claim on Abimbola Akinola. It wasn’t a formal initiation, but something organic. A  call embedded in everyday life, from Yoruba music blaring in her mum’s car to the chaotic joy of Nigerian parties that punctuated her childhood.

ABIMBOLA

 “We were just surrounded by so many different sounds,” she recalls. “Music was a massive part of our lives growing up.” That layered exposure wasn’t just entertainment; it became an archive of identity.

Today, ABIMBOLA is one of a new generation of multidisciplinary DJs who are not just on the decks but are building intentional spaces where creativity meets consciousness. Her ascent may look recent from the outside, but it’s grounded in years of intuitive study, delayed starts, and a fierce kind of self-authorship.

The idea of DJing first took root during university in Brighton, where she found herself craving sounds she wasn’t hearing on dance floors. 

“I was listening to a lot of music that I was like, I wish I could hear this in the nightclubs,” she says. That unmet desire birthed a kind of quiet defiance: if the space didn’t exist, she’d eventually build it herself.

Still, it took the stillness of lockdown for the wheels to finally turn. “I’ve wanted to DJ for so long. Let me just buy myself some decks and teach myself,” she remembers deciding. But even then, perfectionism stood in the way. “If I don’t get how to do something immediately and perfectly straight away, I’m like, I don’t have time for you.”

That kind of mental hurdle isn’t uncommon in creative circles. What distinguishes ABIMBOLA isn’t just the will to persist, but her radical redefinition of what success even looks like.

Enter liminal, a co-founded project with friend and collaborator Roz Jones. The launch party for Spaces Vol. 1, held on April 5, 2025, marked a powerful and vibrant debut. Embracing the essence of liminality the event was a declaration of creative intention. A space of transition, possibility, and transformation. Hosted by the dynamic tanathecreator, the night featured electrifying DJ sets from MIMI RICH, SBK, ARLIIIYAH, and ABIMBOLA herself, creating an atmosphere that pulsed with rhythm and unity. Performer KELVIN5STAR brought an unforgettable energy to the stage, while guest artists Phasiyaa, ABZ STAINLESS, JD Cliffe, and NJRGÉ JOHN added layers of expression and authenticity. True to liminal’s ethos, Spaces Vol. 1 was a call to community, a breaking of barriers, and an open invitation to explore what becomes possible when we step into the in-between.

More than a platform or a community, it’s a living practice: an unfolding dialogue about creativity, inner work, and self-definition.

Roz Jones

liminal Spaces Vol 1

 It draws partly from Julia Cameron’s seminal book The Artist’s Way, whose “morning pages”, a daily writing practice, became a grounding ritual for ABIMBOLA.

“I’ve been writing every day,” she says, eyes lighting up. “Two A4 pages of stream of consciousness. The good, the bad, the ugly, no matter what it is, I make sure to get it down on those pages each morning.” This is where she situates her real transformation, not behind the decks or on social media, but in quiet, daily acts of clarity.

That inward excavation has shaped her understanding of DJing itself. 

“Others might see it as just playing music,” she says, “but actually, it’s about community, about connecting with other people through sound.” There’s a spiritual infrastructure behind her craft, a sense that performance is only part of the work. The rest happens in less visible spaces: the mental work, the journaling, the impostor syndrome, the rejection, the resilience.

liminal Spaces Vol 1

This ethos runs counter to the fast-paced, algorithm-driven culture of DJ fame, where virality can often trump intention. ABIMBOLA’s approach is slower, more deliberate. She’s not chasing every gig. She’s building a network that’s reflective, honest, and generous, which is a resource for those navigating the same obstacles she once did.

“There’s so much gatekeeping,” she says. “We need to let people know there’s room for everyone. Nothing’s over-saturated. No one can do it like you can do it.” That belief, radical in an industry that often thrives on scarcity, feels like the heartbeat of her work.

In many ways, ABIMBOLA belongs to a lineage of Black British creatives who are redefining cultural labour through collectivity and care. Like Touching Bass, BBZ, or gal-dem before it, liminal offers not just visibility, but tools. It’s a mirror and a map, reminding emerging artists that they’re not alone and that art, at its best, is a practice of becoming.

As for what’s next, ABIMBOLA is still writing it. Her dreams, goals, and visions are spilling out onto the page each morning, inching closer to form. What’s clear is this: she’s not just making noise. She’s making meaning. And she’s bringing others with her.