Busy Twist: carrying the dancefloor in a suitcase

Some producers build studios with walls. Busy Twist builds his with wheels.

For over a decade, Ollie Williams, the heart and engine behind Busy Twist, has been in motion, physically, sonically, and spiritually. His just-released album, Busy Life Vol. 1, doesn’t follow the classic album arc. Instead, it unfolds like a travel diary scrawled in rhythm, sweat, and memory. It’s a passport full of stamps, not just from airports, but from alleyway jam sessions in Bamako, rooftop freestyle circles in Rodney Bay, and Palenque village rituals deep in the Colombian jungle.

“This album is a sonic diary of my travels over the past decade,” he says. “Each track is like a time capsule from a specific time and place.”

It’s not nostalgia he’s after; it’s testimony.

The seeds for Busy Life Vol. 1 were planted in Ghana, and like all things in the soil of West Africa, they grew with rhythm.

“The music I created in Ghana marked the start of my journey,” Williams explains. “It was a time of experimentation and discovery. Collaborating with local artists like Yaga was eye-opening, and diving into genres like Highlife and Afrobeat really broadened my musical horizons.”

These early exchanges weren’t casual beat swaps. They were initiations. Williams approached Ghana not like a tourist, but like an apprentice, letting the syncopation of Accra become his compass. He didn’t just hear the music; he let it rewire his instincts. What followed was a decade-long dedication to immersing himself in musical traditions, not from the outside looking in, but from the inside dancing out.

The soul of Busy Life Vol. 1 is not in the production credits; it’s in the friendships.

“The featured artists are all friends I made traveling around these different countries,” he shares.

“Whether it’s Kombilesa Mí in Colombia or Big Sea in St. Lucia, each collaboration has a personal story behind it. So the songs and the connections behind them feel like they’re part of one journey.”

This isn’t a ‘world music’ project. It’s a friendship album. Each beat holds the texture of a conversation, a shared meal, a moment of recognition. This ethos of connection has made Busy Twist a kind of cultural cartographer, mapping groove to geography and emotion to place.

What makes this project different isn’t just its global sound; it’s how and where that sound was captured.

“Having a mobile studio setup allows me to record anywhere, from a hotel room in Bogota to a rooftop in Accra. It’s all about being ready to capture the moment whenever inspiration strikes.”

There’s something cinematic in the image: a producer pulling out a MIDI controller from a duffle bag next to his toothbrush, setting up beside a window with the sounds of the city below, and starting to build.

And it works. “It definitely keeps things exciting and raw,” he adds. “I love the challenge of adapting to different environments. It adds an authenticity to the recordings that you can’t replicate in a traditional studio.”

Nowhere is that authenticity more palpable than in “LDN PLQ,” a collaboration with Kombilesa Mí. It’s more than a banger; it’s an act of preservation.

“LDN PLQ stands for London Palenque, representing the collaboration between my London roots and the Palenque culture of Colombia,” Williams explains. “Kombilesa Mí brings such a powerful energy, and they rap in Palenquero, a Creole language that’s incredibly rare.”

Rare indeed. Fewer than 4,000 people speak Palenquero. On this track, its cadence becomes weaponized joy, a beat-forward reclamation of identity. “It’s a celebration of cultural heritage,” he says, “and being part of that was truly special.”

This wasn’t a one-off. “We recorded that track a few years ago and always felt it had something special. When it got picked up for the FIFA 2025 soundtrack, it was a surreal moment. Seeing something so rooted in cultural identity reach a global audience was incredibly rewarding.”

From linguistic resistance to ancestral strings, the album’s next flight takes us to Mali, where the soul of the desert sings through six strings.

“Recording with Guimba Kouyaté in Mali was like stepping into another world. He’s a master guitarist from a griot family, and the depth of his musical knowledge is humbling.”

The griot tradition is not just about music; it’s about memory, lineage, storytelling.

“We jammed in his home studio, and the energy was electric. You can feel that spirit in ‘Nija Funk’; it’s raw, vibrant, and deeply rooted in tradition.”

This isn’t a fusion; it’s a meeting of ancestors on the dancefloor.

Raised in London, but steeped in summers on the island of St. Lucia, Busy Twist carries a double passport when it comes to sonic DNA.

“Caribbean culture has had a huge influence on me,” he says. “I spent summers in St. Lucia, soaking up soca, Dennery segment, and Dancehall. That rhythmic intensity and vibrant energy are embedded in my sound.”

Dennery Segment, the sugar-rushed, turbocharged soca hybrid of St. Lucia, pulses through tracks like “Soca Speed.” But it’s not just genres; it’s memories.

“Those experiences shaped how I perceive rhythm and groove,” he says. “The Caribbean taught me to feel music in my bones.”

And let’s not forget the UK’s electronic bedrock.

“Growing up in London, I was into rave culture and electronic music, grime, jungle, garage. That mix of music naturally influenced my production style.”

The fusion is apparent, but never forced. Busy Twist isn’t chasing a trend; he’s honoring a lineage.

With a body of work that already spans continents, the next step was inevitable: a label.

“I launched Busy Life Music to create a platform for the incredible artists I’ve met on my travels. It’s about giving a home to these collaborations and pushing boundaries.”

But the mission is deeper. It’s about challenging monocultures, not just in sound, but in industry.

“The long-term vision is to highlight the diverse talent and incredible music from global artists. To share it with a wider audience and keep pushing for more collaborations that bridge cultures.”

For Busy Twist, it all comes back to the dancefloor, but not as a mere place of release. It’s a ritual space.

“I believe that music can carry meaning even in a club setting,” he says. “Raving has something spiritual. It’s a good context to bring in these types of stories.”

That’s where Busy Life Vol. 1 triumphs. It doesn’t just make you move; it makes you remember. It reminds you that the global south is not just an aesthetic; it’s the source. That languages matter. That tradition can be loud. That joy, real, sweaty, spine-shaking joy, can still be political.

So the next time you hear that kick drum, ask yourself: whose heartbeat is it echoing?

Because for Busy Twist, no rhythm is random. Every track is a message in a bottle, flung from a rooftop in Bogotá, a roadside in Accra, or a living room in London, reminding us that music is not just made. It’s carried.