"How Rave Music Conquered America". Really?

An article written by Simon Reynolds is a serious thing. The most respected and influential dance music journalist has just published his fatwa "How rave music conquered America" in The Guardian (August 02, 2012). His analysis is not essentially different than the majority of press articles on the recent growth of EDM in America. Likewise, he employs analytical categories he forged in the late 1980s, elaborating on aspects of the cyclical trajectory that electronica traces from underground, to popularization and massification, as multiplication leads to fragmentation. What's special about his article is the descriptive (albeit sometimes verbose) depth and the authoritative weight he brings to the table.

The rise of mega festivals with super structures and inflated fees is, according to Reynolds, the main indication that EDM has become mainstream in America. I am surprised, because this is the type of evidence that outside journalists and some naive insiders have been using for over 10 years now. But maybe this time it is different. Really?

The voracious encroachment of entertainment big business in the U.S. rave scene is a relatively new trend, as noted by Wall Street Journal and The New York Times. Reynolds briefly mentions that the popularity of EDM has been facilitated by electronica being gradually incorporated into pop and hip-hop aired across the radio and TV mediascape. At a macroeconomic level, I wonder how the current global recession (along with the positive “Obama effect” afterglow) may have played a role. In his prior publications, Reynolds argues that the rise of house and techno back in the mid 1980s was a reaction to economic downturns of Thatcher and Reagan eras. Just like back then, current EDM events are about escapism, but a main difference lies in the lack of rebelliousness or questioning by participants today.

The EDM music being played in mainstream clubs and festivals in America is not "pure" electronica but rather strong fusions of pop and hip-hop in a big tune formula, often leading to undanceable (unbearable?) dubstep. Psy trance, deep house and tech house remain largely circumscribed to underground micro parties from San Francisco to Goa (and maybe that's a good thing). Teen sexiness - without any ironical undertone or twist - has emerged at full swing, suggesting that Millenials have succumbed to material consumerism. As Reynolds explains, the term "festival" has replaced "rave", a loaded taboo in America for it conjures hysterical images of drug overdoses and harassing sheriffs backed by draconian legislation. Party promoters thus avoid the word just like "that disease" was used in reference to cancer generations ago.

Underground critics have a point in noting that mega festivals are sterile, preformatted events regulated by vested economic interests. Not that drugs have disappeared. In fact, ecstasy has a new street name: "molly" (molecular) as new users claim that powder MDMA is more pure than pills. Beyond legality or health concerns, the point here is the lack of freedom or grassroots spontaneity in these EDM festivals. Techno counterculture was about creating a world that departs (and maybe transforms) the constraints and drudgery of modern life. Displays of fashion and flesh without the underlying playfulness or transgression intent of former times suggests that the scene has lost its critical edge, and is becoming more mainstream than ever. Within regulated structures of mega festivals, even Deadmau5 regrets that DJs may no longer be allowed to improvise tracks on the dancefloor, but are rather compelled to hit the 'play' button for a preset track list; a real sacrilege for any virtuoso DJs. The studio is thus becoming the site of creativity and experimentation; quite a departure from times when the dancefloor was an improvisational DJ lab.

The future is unknown. Currently the American EDM scene is an "unstable coalition" of dubstep (Skrillex) and feel-good trance (Kaskade), with the majority of DJ artists lying somewhere in between (Deadmau5). Twenty years from now, Simon Reynolds may use the same framework to understand the situation (from underground, to mainstream, to fragmentation). Though such festivals may provide some escapism, they do miss that grassroots questioning of "the system". Or worse, they just provide conformist, self-contained, pricey entertainment in commodity form. The genuine experience of self-transcendence and redemption is missed out: the Temporary Autonomous Zones (TAZ) that arises in quasi-sacred electronica rituals for a secular youth in search of spirituality and connectedness. Perhaps the title of Reynolds' article would better be "How America conquered rave music". Perhaps.

Fluid: The Rave Dance

Subcultures generates dance forms that show how vibrant those are. Fluid is probably unique to rave culture. Its body movements are smooth, gentle and circular, as if the dancer were walking on clouds or, better, flowing through water. Reflecting electronic dance's multi-level soundscapes, fluid is corporeally multi-layered but not disjointed. It expresses the pleasurable melting of the dancer into hyper-sensorial waves of digital dance music.

Fluid derives from hip-hop's "popping", but trimmed down edgy strokes while keeping its illusionist effects. It socially intersects Black inner-city hip-hop and White suburbia electronica, with the latter appropriating the former into the digitally softer edge of loved-up ecstasy.

Historically, it arguably starts in early 1990s New York City, but almost simultaneously emerged across other US metropolitan areas. It enjoyed its peak around 1998, among teens characteristically dressed as “candy ravers” (athletic jackets, baggy trousers, caps, and later on, pacifiers and Teletubbie bags). With the demise of rave after 9/11, fluid disappeared, and became largely unknown to newer generations of disenfranchised EDM kids.

An iconic example of fluid dancing is given by Eric of LPC (Liquid Pop Collective). Originally from Philadelphia, he moved to Florida where his team teaches the dance. Liquid Eric has produced a few videos, such as this:

 

Video: LPEric at Space, Philadelphia 1999

Joe Biden and the Decline of Rave Parties in America

A few days after Senator Joe Biden was chosen as a vice-presidential candidate, my net crawlers unexpectedly dug some old debates about his role in the anti-rave legislation in the U.S.

As I crosschecked U.S. Congressional records, Joseph Biden indeed authored the RAVE act, a piece of legislation approved in 2003 that has allegedly contributed to the demise of rave parties in the U.S. (or, at least, the first generation of "underground" events).

As a legal acronym, RAVE stands for "Reducing Americans' Vulnerability to Ecstasy". It cracks down on rave promoters if drugs are found in their events, even if they have provided effective security, and even if they have no relation with individuals who consumed or traded drugs in their events. Moreover, based on former "crack house statutes", the law also criminalizes the venue owner (club, bar, warehouse etc.) just for renting their space. Again, landlords don't have to be related to - or not even aware of - those dealing or consuming drugs in their venue, in order to be heavily prosecuted.

Civil liberty groups have found some problems in the content and manner of the bill when it was introduced to Congress. Strangely, it entered legislative discussion as an amendment to a child abduction bill, a quite unrelated issue. As troubling, the bill was evaluated without any public hearing or vote in Congress.

After ten months, 30,000 protest faxes and the withdrawal of two senators' support, the RAVE act was finally passed, but after some revision. The original bill proposed that the sales of water, glowsticks and even telletubbie bags were to serve as criminal evidence. This disposition was soundly removed, as well as the word "rave". Though formally focusing on ecstasy, the act targets promoters and landlords for any type of drug or musical event (hip-hop, rock, etc).

Despite its repressive effects, I don't think that the RAVE act was the main cause for the decline of rave in America, as claimed by some insiders. Although being a tool for controlling any emergent rave scene locally, the law has been very inconsistently applied, according to state, city, authority, and scene status.

The terrorist attacks of September 11 (2001) likely had a much worse impact on the rave scene across the country. Before 9/11, the growth of rave culture in America was fueled by a blatantly pop Romantic ideology. Permeated with sheer optimism and the overtly celebration of innocence, mainstream-to-be "candy ravers" were seen hugging strangers, sucking on pacifiers, and declaring P.L.U.R. at each email (Peace, Love, Understanding, and Respect). But, with 9/11, the nation was immediately regimented for war - a decisive blow on the spirit of rave. Party kids were frightened and demoralized, to say the least.

The RAVE act is a missed opportunity. It could and should have been much better formulated. I support civil rights liberties, but also find it disturbing when masses of teenagers are buzzing high on drugs. Not only drugs become part of their lives, but are often abused at every weekend, just worsening psychological and social problems typical of this age. Yes, this is also true of alcohol, which surprisingly is quite tolerated by U.S. Law. Just attend any bar district of any big city, and you'll see ethylic overdoses at a staggering level.

There is no easy solution for the problem. The typical move has been to criminalize subcultures, with contradictory results, and the RAVE act is a recent example. Yet, from a variety of international cases, a more intelligent approach on drugs - one that recognizes the differences among drugs, uses, user profiles, and official intervention -, tends to produce much superior results.

Who is then to be monitored and educated? Kids, parents, MTV, or government itself?...