Sunday, April 28, 2013

Musings of a girl ex-raver

Back in 1998 I went to college.  I met a guy who introduced me to Bjork in the most inspirational way.  He also introduced me to electronic music he had procured from his home town in San Diego.  I was living in Humboldt at the time, eating shrooms and being a stupid hooligan in the woods and on the beach.  It was some of the best times of my life.  This experience also set forth a path in motion that would influence my life until this very moment. 

After I left that humble place, I returned to my home in the Bay Area and set out to find my own electronic scene.  I got a job at Tower Records to procure more music and to have a job that allowed me to express myself through my new found style of multi-colored dreads and rave gear.  I wore big pants, candy jewelry, listened to anything on Moonshine Records and smoked insane amounts of weed.  I was onto something.  

I met a few friends at the store that were inclined to take me to my first party.  It was at a warehouse in Oakland and incidentally, out of all the parties I went to thereafter, I never returned to that venue... or so I believe.  The night ended pretty early in the morning and I found myself, dancing with all of my might to what would be a new love: House Music.  The DJ was in a wheelchair and he sent us off with the final song of "You don't know me" by Armand Van Helden.  My heart was soaring into the sky; I had tears in my eyes and I was in heaven.  This would be the first of maybe 3 occasions that I would experience total euphoria. I was definitely onto something.  

I started to get more involved in the underground rave scene and I made lots of friends.  I built a good crew of folks that I would party with and some not so great characters sprinkled within too.  The party scene in those days was a lot of trance raves, tons of ecstacy and PLUR.  (Peace Unity Love Respect).  We felt like we were the modern day hippies.  We wore colorful costumes, tons of plastic beaded jewelry bracelets that we would trade when we met new friends.  I started to get pretty familiar with the scene.  Sometimes I even took a chance, went to a venue on a whim by myself, and found a party there without knowing about it ahead of time.  I danced for hours every weekend; sometimes hitting up 2 parties on Friday and Saturday.  I was becoming a pro.  

You have to understand, underground parties were UNDERGROUND.  You only found out about the next party by being at the first one.  Kids would stand outside and pass out fliers.  You looked for logos like "SKILLZ" or "Harmony".  These were the promoters putting on the best events with the best dj's.  Sometimes you heard about something smaller and you had to meet in exclusive locations to get directions the night of.  There was one occasion I went to an outdoor party in Santa Cruz in the middle of nowhere.  In times like those, when you thought you were close, you slowed the car, turned off the music, and rolled down your windows to try and find the "thump" in the distance.  We found the party but we were quickly discovered by authorities and meant to be searched.  It was the closest I ever came to getting arrested (at that point in my life) and luckily I was clean and allowed to go free.  I went to another larger campout party once with a few friends and it also turned bust Saturday morning.  I'll never forget how angry, grumpy and dead we all were.  I stuck to the city venues after that.  This was also my first lesson in trying to get outside friends involved in the scene.  They couldn't hang.  

To this day, I feel as though those years taught me how to survive the nightlife, and in general, life.  What to bring, what not to bring, what to wear, etc.  These might seem trivial, but if you are a seeker of dance music, you know not to bring a loaded purse and stupid fuck me heels.  I was an athlete with the right gear.  Most importantly, it taught me what attitude to bring.  Energy is contagious and if you bring a bad one, it's a bummer night.  I would learn that lesson over and over again and on one occasion, another person's energy would turn my night around.  He later turned out to be a good friend who I partied with on a new level.  After I progressed from the underground scene, I became pretty good at navigating legit events and getting to know the upper echelon of SF party kids and promoters.   

My friends always knew where to find me... at the front of the DJ booth.  I was that girl, in the front, egging the DJ on.  To me it was a relationship.  You the DJ, give me the goods and I will pump you, and everyone else up like no one's business. You can count on me, if I can count on you.  I started to follow certain DJ's that understood this relationship.  A lot of folks who played legit clubs were less inclined to speak this language, and as I got older and went to more legit parties, I found it hard to experience those same feelings I had in the beginning.  Once in a while though, I hit gold.  Partying was a full time job, and it took a lot of effort to find the legit events.  

As with every job, eventually the business goes bust.  As the years progressed, the scene became blown up.  The media focused a lot on the drug use and deaths and the danger of it all.  Permits were no longer issued and warehouses went empty.  I partied hard for nearly 7 years and it took it's toll.  Unfortunately also, my friends and I went in different directions musically and I no longer had a crew to party with at the events I wanted to go to.  

Today I still dig for music, events, venues, promoters that are in tune with my age and soul.  House music is still my first love, but it's getting increasingly hard to find original and interesting music.  I love all kinds of electronic music now and I've taught myself to have a pretty discerning ear.  The sad thing is, the full time job part still stands, and I already have one of those.  I rely a lot on friends to find new artists and with the development of technology, music no longer lives in huge warehouses, but in my headphones.  I miss those old days like nothing else.  I miss having a crew of dance friends and a community that is juiced with positivity on the dancefloor.  

I might be getting older, but I'm still that same euphoric girl inside just looking to the DJ to save my life.  The community I danced and partied with some 14 years ago have also gotten older, more grown up and a lot more jaded.  We aren't these carefree and selfless kids anymore willing to hug and share with any stranger.  We've become parents, stressed out professionals and responsible adults.  There are still a few parties out there dedicated to the veterans that offer a nice Sunday picnic style dance-a-thon but the attitude and vibe is so different.  No one wants to see a washed up mid-thirties lady high on molly on a Sunday afternoon.  I guess one doesn't have to be washed up.  But the truth lies in this moment where you have to decide where you're going and lament where you've been.  Sure, I can still go out and dance, plenty of people do.  But it's not that easy anymore.  I am a music snob now, and most of the shit DJ's are presenting is pretty lame.  It will never be the same all around, though if I get lucky, maybe once or twice a year I can get a night back.  

It has always been about the music, first and foremost, but the way a good beat can bring a room of hyped up dancing kids together is unreal.  I can still get the good music for myself, but what's the point if you can't share it with a roomful of sweaty amazing friends?  I miss those old friends more than anything lately.  Austin Hammons, I owe you a debt of gratitude for showing me the way.  Chris Carcia and Tiffanie Arvold; thank you so much for taking me in and always having the most amazing positive vibe.  

I am such a lucky soul for having had those experiences.  The journey continues.  Next Stop: Burning Man.  Finally. 

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