Alexa Joyce has disco fever

To meet Alexa Joyce is to understand the word ‘joy’ anew. By the time she hits the call, she’s just touched down in the UK, grounded for the first time in months after chasing a busy schedule of studio sessions, long-haul flights and late-night rehearsals. If she’s exhausted you’d never know it. She arrives brimming with excitement and that unmistakable Scouse warmth: the kind that makes you forget she’s half way to pop stardom. “It’s been a bit mad the past few months with travelling, recording, filming, everything,” she laughs. “But I’m here now.”

It’s been a whirlwind for the Liverpudlian singer-songwriter. Within a few years, she’s gone from working the shop floor at the Fiorucci store in Soho — where a chance encounter with DJ Cassidy set the gears in motion — to releasing her own music and meeting Beyoncé at the Grammys. While her work with the producer remains top secret, she shares a titbit from her encounter with the queen of pop: “Our stockings got stuck together,” she laughs. It’s the kind of rise that feels cinematic, but in conversation, it’s clear that Joyce is entirely real.

Her knowledge of disco, the genre she’s determined to make her mark on, is encyclopaedic, matched by her reverence for its icons spanning Luther Vandross to Kylie Minogue, and Studio 54’s storied nights — not to mention the genre’s history as a haven for marginalised communities.

“Disco has always been part of my life,” Joyce tells me. “To me, disco is about joy and liberation. It’s the feeling before the sound: that warmth, that pulse that makes you move before you even realise it,” she says. “It was sparkly, bold, outrageous, and that spirit is what I love. When I listen to disco, I feel unstoppable.” In a landscape obsessed with bratty minimalism and being a little too cool for school, Alexa Joyce is building something thoroughly maximalist: a glitter-flecked universe of celebration, unity, pure pop optimism and an irresistible four-to-the-floor sensibility in forthcoming bangers like ‘Supalove’, ’Nightlife’, and ‘Divine’. ‘Your Disco Needs You’, crooned Kylie in 2001, but for Joyce the mirrorball has never stopped spinning.

Ciarán Howley: You’ve been all over lately. Where are you speaking from right now?

Alexa Joyce: I’m finally at home in the UK. It’s been a bit mad the past few months with travelling, recording, filming, everything, but I’m here now. But I love it. It’s the biggest dream and privilege to be doing this as a job.

CH: When did you first discover that you wanted to make music?

AJ: My mum and dad say I could sing before I could talk. I was always humming as a child. I’ve had such a musical upbringing — our house was never quiet. It was George Michael, Whitney Houston, always playing something. I grew up in this big, loud Scouse family, and music was just in the air. I danced from a really young age, too. My mum and dad sent me a video recently of me at six years old singing a Christmas song in front of my class, and I was like, yeah, it’s always been there.

CH: Before music took off, you were working at the Fiorucci store in Soho. A happenstance meeting took things to the next level, right?

AJ: That story feels like fate. I’d moved from Liverpool to London to chase music, but I worked part time at Fiorucci. I’ve always been obsessed with disco, with Studio 54 — the glamour, the energy. People used to shop at Fiorucci during the day to go to Studio 54 at night. So I thought, If I’m going to work anywhere, it has to be there. One day, I was chatting with a woman who turned out to be DJ Cassidy’s girlfriend. I told her I was a singer and she said, My boyfriend’s a producer. And I thought, Yeah, sure, I’ve heard that line before! Then he walked in, and I recognised him instantly. We got talking about the playlist in the store, which was mine, and he was shocked at how many records I knew. I’ve always been that person who’s obsessed with music history — I’d rather watch MTV Unplugged than TV.

CH: Your music is disco, it’s joyful. But how would you describe the world of Alexa Joyce?

AJ: I want it to be immersive and full of joy — a place of fun, connection and freedom. I just want to bring people together. The world feels heavy right now, and we all need a good time. My mission is to spread love and get people dancing again.

CH: Disco feels like the perfect medium for that. What draws you to it so deeply?

AJ: Disco has always been part of my life. To me, disco is about joy and liberation. It’s the feeling before the sound — that warmth, that pulse that makes you move before you even realise it. Musically, it’s the basslines, the orchestras, the horns, the energy is unreal. And culturally, disco was a space for expression and freedom. It gave marginalised communities a place to thrive. It was sparkly, bold, outrageous, and that spirit is what I love. When I listen to disco, I feel unstoppable. I always say, Try being in a bad mood while listening to ‘Never Too Much’ by Luther Vandross. Impossible! Disco is the closest thing to magic we have.

CH: If you could teleport to Studio 54 for one night, who’d be on your boogie-with list?

AJ: Oh, that’s easy. Cher, first of all, with both of us in a Bob Mackie outfit. Then Madonna, of course. Elio Fiorucci helped launch her career, so I’d love that full-circle moment. Elton John, Rod Stewart, he’d turn up in leopard print, and Diana Ross, obviously. I actually have a photo above my bed of Diana Ross at the Studio 54 closing party. Iconic.

CH: Outside of disco, what else has shaped your sound?

AJ: Definitely nineties and early 2000s pop. I always say my sound is like if Donna Summer and the Spice Girls had a baby. I grew up with both. My parents were the youngest siblings, so my cousins fed me nineties pop from birth. There’s sometimes snobbery around pop, but I think it’s joyful and exciting. The big choruses, the colour, the personalities! Pop stars in the nineties all had their own identity. Posh, Ginger, Baby, Sporty, Scary, it was pure personality and fun.

CH: It was an era of optimism. Do you think, culturally, we’re in need of some levity right now?

AJ: Completely. I grew up surrounded by strong women, and I love the empowerment in artists like Cher and Madonna. That Cher quote, “Mom, I am a rich man”, that’s everything. I want to be that for other girls, too — to show them it’s okay to have fun and not take life too seriously. Even if you’re in Heartbreak Hotel, get up, put on your face and get back on the dance floor.

CH: You’re quite active on social media. How do you find the shift where creatives have to manage being both an artist and a content creator?

AJ: Honestly, it’s tricky. It’s a big part of the job now, and people expect artists to be multifaceted. I enjoy it to a point, but music will always be the foundation. I never want the other stuff to overshadow that. What I love about Kylie Minogue is that she’s reinvented herself so many times but always stayed true to the music. That’s what sets my soul on fire.

CH: How have you found life in the industry so far?

AJ: It’s wild. Coming from Liverpool, I had no entry point, no contacts, no calls I could make. It was daunting. But I’ve been so lucky with the people around me: my managers, producers like Burns and Dave Gibson, Cassidy, they’ve all treated me so kindly. My biggest ‘is this real life?’ moment was earlier this year. I went to Clive Davis’s pre-Grammy party, then to the Grammys, and I ended up talking to Beyoncé.

CH: Wait! What happened?

AJ: We stood up at the same time and our stockings got stuck together! I was wearing my granddad’s blazer and the underwear my mum wore on her wedding night — keeping it in the family, babes. I probably wouldn’t have had the guts to go up to her otherwise, but it broke the ice. After the Grammys, I went straight to Bruno Mars’s afterparty, stayed up until 7am, then flew to New York at ten. The next day I was in the studio with Mark Ronson. He’s incredible, so generous with his advice. Those seventy- two hours were insane.

CH: And finally, what’s next?

AJ: Next year is when it all begins. My first releases are coming, and I can’t wait to see people on the dance floor. My biggest dream is to hear people singing my songs back to me. That’s when I’ll really know it’s real.