DJ Chika Takai brings Japanese hip-hop to the NBA
Last month, she became the first Japanese woman and first DJ of Asian descent selected as the official DJ for the 2026 NBA All-Star Weekend
Chika Takai became the first DJ of Asian descent selected as the official DJ for the 2026 NBA All-Star Weekend.
Courtesy of Chika Takai
Words by Tyra Douyon
Balancing a large drink and a tray of loaded nachos in one hand, I walk up the steep stairs to my seat at the top level of Atlanta’s State Farm Arena. I hear the music before I see her. A bass-heavy beat pulses through the speakers as the artist raps in a distinctive Southern drawl. Then Chika Takai—the Atlanta Hawks’ DJ—flashes across the jumbo screen, smiling and dancing, her hands steady over the decks, reading the room like a second scoreboard.
The crowd responds in a surge of excitement and familiarity, rising to dance with her in waves and raising their hands. Her playlist is a mix of genres, from EDM to Afrobeats, but hip-hop songs thread consistently through warmups, player introductions, and the halftime show. To a new fan, it might seem unexpected to see Takai, an Asian woman, spinning hip-hop records in an NBA arena, but her status within the Hawks franchise is the result of years of discipline and dedication.
Chika Takai is the Atlanta Hawks' DJ.
Courtesy of Chika Takai
This year, Takai became the first Japanese woman and the first DJ of Asian descent selected as the official DJ for the 2026 NBA All-Star Weekend last month. The milestone reflects the growing visibility of women in influential music roles—particularly women of Asian descent—and underscores the ongoing relationship between hip-hop and basketball, in which artists play a pivotal role in shaping the sound of the sport for a worldwide audience.
A transpacific hip-hop education
A Japanese woman influenced by Southern hip-hop culture, Takai has become a conduit for the artistry shared between American and Japanese musicians. Although, if you ask her, she’ll tell you none of it happened quickly or by happenstance. Her love for hip-hop began when she was 15 years old. “I’ve had people tell me, ‘You are Asian. You are female. You are Japanese. What do you know about hip-hop?’” Takai says. “But I have listened to these songs in Japan for years.”
Takai was born and raised in Tokyo, where American hip-hop has had a devoted following since the 1980s. Artists like Run-D.M.C., Public Enemy, and later OutKast and Lil Jon, traveled far beyond U.S. borders, influencing music, fashion, dance, and language in cities like Tokyo and Osaka. Simultaneously, Japanese rap—often called J-rap—developed its own artists, including the late Nujabes, Rhymester, Miss Monday, Heartsdales, and others. Takai grew up absorbing that world, but it was Atlanta hip-hop in particular that reshaped her appreciation for rap music.
The allure of Atlanta’s new trap sound and the experimentation of artists tied to Georgia’s music scene like T.I., Jeezy, Ludacris, and Gucci Mane became Takai’s musical foundation. When she relocated to Atlanta as a college student, and then became a dancer for the Hawks, she arrived as a tourist of hip-hop culture who was already fluent in its rhythms. “Dancing was my first connection to music. I was a dancer for the Hawks before I started deejaying in the city for corporate events and festivals,” Chika says. “The Hawks took a chance on me, but I think I had to earn their trust in the beginning. There are not too many female DJs in Atlanta and also, you know, I'm Asian. I sometimes call it a triple minority because I'm also an immigrant. I didn't even speak English when I started.”
Respecting the roots
In Japan, where hip-hop once existed as an import, being a serious fan required intention. “When you’re in another country, you actually research even more about the international music you want to listen to, and it’s harder to find because it’s not part of the mainstream culture,” Takai explains. To participate in that culture, especially as a non-Black, non-American woman, that research matters even more.
Hip-hop is a Black American art form that gave artists an outlet to report the effects of state-sanctioned violence and sociopolitical and economic neglect in their communities. In Japan, many rappers embraced hip-hop as a counterpoint to social conformity. Today, at its depth, it remains a language of resistance. Understanding this, Takai has positioned herself as a lifelong student of hip-hop, remaining attentive to the Black communities that built the culture she now works within. “Learning the culture and how people enjoy things—they dance to this, they flow like this—is the respectful way to do it,” Takai says. “I needed to actually see it all in front of me once I got to the States.”
Her career asks the larger question: what happens when someone studies a culture deeply, engages ethically, and contributes to it without erasing its origins? And yet, stepping into that arena as a “first” inevitably carries symbolic weight.
The weight of being first
To be the first Japanese woman and first DJ of Asian descent in these spaces means Takai is at once an individual professional and a representative figure. Her presence expands the reality of who can stand behind the turntables, leading the entertainment arm of a billion-dollar industry, but there is pressure embedded in that visibility.
In the United States, women make up roughly one-third, or 32 percent, of working DJs. Asian DJs account for a small fraction of the field at five percent. The percentage of Asian women DJs is smaller still, placing Takai in an extreme minority within an already competitive industry. For Asian women in particular, the path has required navigating both gender bias and racial stereotyping in places that demand technical proof before artistic freedom is granted. “People sometimes assume that I can’t go back in my crates for a little old school hip-hop, or think I don’t understand the variations of hip-hop within the genre, or I culturally can’t connect to the music. All these assumptions are because I’m not what they are used to seeing. But through this, I’ve learned how to turn those differences into my strengths,” Takai says.
Chika Takai at the University of Kansas' Late Night in the Phog event.
Courtesy of Chika Takai
There are prominent figures from the Asian diaspora in the global DJ culture—artists like Steve Aoki, TOKiMONSTA, Peggy Gou, and Henry Fong—who have built international brands across EDM, house, and electronic circuits. But mainstream recognition for Asian DJs has often been concentrated in festival and club culture, not in hip-hop-dominant sports environments like the NBA.
Inside a professional sports franchise, that scrutiny intensifies, but Takai meets that pressure with preparation by studying the game story. Deejaying in an NBA arena is not simply about selecting tracks; it is about shaping the crowd’s emotional tempo in real time. If hip-hop began as a way to hype up Bronx block parties, Takai’s task is to captivate 17,000 people at once, without losing their attention.
Global sound, global league
At the same time, Takai’s sets are not confined to American rap alone. As Asian pop and hip-hop have gained global visibility, she has intentionally woven those sounds into her rotations. The gesture deliberately recognizes that Asian artists are not outside of hip-hop culture, but actively participating in it. The global rise of K-pop has shifted arena playlists across professional sports. Japanese hip-hop, too, has entered a new era, with artists like AWICH, Yuki Chiba, and MIYACHI, pushing the genre into more internationally collaborative spaces.
“The NBA is hip-hop heavy because that’s their culture as well,” Takai says. “However, over the years, they’ve included country songs and K-pop groups in setlists to reach different types of crowds and entertain everybody. K-pop is super popular now so I include those songs in my set. As an Asian, I’m like, ‘Yes, this is amazing! The NBA is not just basketball.’”
DJ Chika Takai performing at a nightclub.
Courtesy of Chika Takai
The NBA’s audience extends far beyond U.S. borders, and Japan remains one of its most engaged markets. Through youth programs, fan activations in Tokyo and Osaka, and digital initiatives under NBA Japan, the league has invested steadily in cultivating that relationship. When Takai plays in Atlanta, she performs not just for those in the arena, but for a global audience streaming games through League Pass (the NBA’s streaming service) and watching clips on social media. That’s a powerful platform, and she’s intentional about making her time in the spotlight count.
Beyond the booth
Takai’s ambitions extend past the court. She leads two nonprofits—Experiential Global and Global Experience University—focused on helping women expand professionally, including through study abroad programs. “I came to the States not knowing the language or anybody and it wasn’t easy,” she says. “Beyond what I do for the NBA, I want to make sure that the next generation can have an easier path to success. It motivates me to keep moving forward.”
The NBA will continue to globalize and hip-hop will keep evolving. The future of basketball’s soundtrack will likely be even more international. And yet, at its core, it will still rely on the same fundamentals, shaped by people like Takai, who understand both where the music began and where it’s going.
“I am a performer, not just a DJ, not just a music provider,” she says. “I actually dance, I emcee, and I interact with people. I’m trying to create the whole experience through music.”
Published on March 5, 2026
Words by Tyra Douyon
Tyra Douyon is an Atlanta-based arts & entertainment journalist and editor. She’s a graduate of Kennesaw State University, where she earned her Bachelor’s degree in English Education and Master’s in Professional Writing. Along with freelance writing, she is a published poet and staff editor for a literary arts magazine. Visit her website tyradouyon.com to read more of her published work.