Femme, Fierce, and Full of Beats: Miss Mojo’s Playground
ON A HUMID NEW YORK NIGHT, WHEN THE CITY HUMS WITH ITS OWN ELECTRICITY, MISS MOJO STEPS ONTO THE STAGE. The crowd is already swaying before the first beat, but when the bass drops, the room transforms. Shoulders loosen, feet slide, voices lift. It’s more than a performance – it’s a connection.
This is the energy Miss Mojo is known for. A rapper, producer, model, and photographer, she refuses to be confined to one lane. Instead, she’s building a body of work that spans music, visuals, and community, each piece feeding the next. “I want people to move first and think later,” she’s said — a mantra that ripples through every track she makes.
Her debut EP, Juicy, introduced her as a fearless new voice, merging house beats with rap swagger and bass lines heavy enough to rattle walls. It wasn’t a first step — it was a declaration. And with her latest project, 4 the Fem Queens (The Remixes), she’s pushed that momentum further, reimagining earlier work as high-octane club anthems that turn personal expression into a collective call to move, sweat, and celebrate.
Tracks like Pan Paradise (Nasty Mix) show how deftly she flips familiar rhythms into something fresh. Collaborations with ballroom icon Sinia Alaia cement her place in a tradition where joy and resistance share the same beat. Mojo doesn’t just pull from culture — she participates in it, weaving herself into a lineage that has long sustained Black and trans communities.
But sound is only half her story. Mojo approaches visuals with the same care and intention as her music. As both model and photographer, she embodies the idea that she is the artist and the art. A striking self-portrait, a bold stage look, a perfectly framed shot — each adds to her mythology. When she says her work is about creating a world, it isn’t a metaphor. She’s showing us that vision, image by image, track by track.
Community sits at the center of everything she does. As a founding member of the BTFA Collective (Black Trans Femmes in the Arts), Mojo has worked onstage and behind the scenes to carve out space for others. The collective gave her the platform to bring Juicy into the world, and she continues to pour back into it, ensuring that Black trans femmes in the arts have the resources to flourish.
Her music also refuses to gloss over hard truths.
“As a visible Black trans woman I have learned to pick my battles. Our safety is always compromised when we share our truths.”
The line lands like a gut punch. It reminds us that the joy in her work doesn’t come easy — it’s chosen, fought for, and deeply radical.
Miss Mojo’s art lives in that duality. Her tracks are celebrations and testimonies, honoring survival while demanding joy. They bridge ballroom, house, and rap while carving new pathways forward. They’re as much about the dance floor as they are about the communities that create and sustain it.
From Juicy to 4 the Fem Queens (The Remixes), her evolution has been less about following industry rules and more about rewriting them entirely. She isn’t chasing stardom in the conventional sense; she’s building a stage wide enough for everyone to shine.
In a cultural landscape that often flattens artists into labels or lanes, Miss Mojo insists on expansiveness. She is the beat that makes the crowd move, the image that lingers after the music fades, the voice that cuts through with both celebration and truth. Above all, she is proof that art can be both personal and communal, joyous and uncompromising.
She isn’t just releasing music; she’s crafting a world where rhythm rules and joy is mandatory. The only requirement: step inside.
