Rave: an exploration of etymology

"An underground party and party network characterized by music, costume,
acceptance of all, and a resounding positive feeling. Mostly held in large urban
venues that were unknown." - Urban Dictionary, 2004 (user: dindin&bacchus)

Nowadays, the word rave can mean anything. But it’s not supposed to.

Most dance music enthusiasts, young and old, would consider themselves to have
attended a rave. But the question I pose is, have they really? The term has been
thrown around so much that its true meaning has been lost, along with parts of the
culture that once embodied its spirit.

Attending a rave used to mean calling a phone number on the bottom of a flyer,
traipsing through dark fields and into unmarked warehouses, to find a location from
which bass and lights would emanate. But in the modern vernacular, it means mass
promoted events with familiar lineups, at an established venue, with extensive
security and hefty door and bar charges.

We've been sold this sanitised version of a rave; up and coming dance music
enthusiasts don’t know any different, and we can't blame them.

It has become extremely prohibitive from both financial and regulatory points of view
to throw events. Raves have lost their viability outside of truly dedicated circles.
And so a vacuum was created, and it’s been filled by corporate entities. For these
corporations or “groups” finances are no issue, and regulatory barriers can be
bought around. The void remaining was filled but the soul that once dwelled there
has escaped. Jean Baudrillard’s Simulacra and Simulation (1981) labels this
phenomena as ‘the Beaubourg effect’, in which a space functions as a monument of
a mass simulation absorbing and devouring all the surrounding cultural energy: "a
machine for making emptiness".

The rave was once about accessibility. The only boundary to entry was being privy to
the event location and finding mates to share a cab with. Raves made nightlife
accessible to those that felt out of place or unsafe in traditional clubs, which did (and
still do) cater to a specific look and lifestyle preference. They facilitated a space for a
diverse range of enthusiasts to connect with one another, and by proxy, the
underground scene.

This acceptance led to the creation of communities through regular raves, such as
those thrown by the Melbourne Underground Development (M.U.D Crew) circa
1993-1997 who ran various nights such as “Every Picture Tells A Story” out of Global
Village in Footscray. The Global Village space was described as an "artistic hub of
like-minded people that came to dance, laugh, and express themselves in a safe,
inspirational environment that was unique to the 90's”, which makes it all the more
sad (yet ironic) that the former Global Village site is now a corporate co-working
space.

experimentality put forward ≠ profit focused

Because of their intrinsic rejection of profitability and marketability, raves allowed up-
and-coming DJs and live acts to find their sound in a space that rewarded
experimentation. This acceptance — if not encouragement — of divergence and
originality created a space where attendees engaged solely with each other and the
music, dancing without fear of being filmed or ridiculed.

no dress codes, no rules.

The rave wasn’t instagrammable because marketability wasn’t a priority. Its ethos
was in complete opposition to the easily digestible, bite-sized morsels of polished
and marketable content that we’ve become accustomed to. You didn’t need to let
people know where you were or what you were doing, in fact, you didn’t want to,
because location secrecy was a sacrament. The aim was to connect with the people
in your immediate vicinity. The conscious and intentional nature of attendance
connected revellers, as they shared an experience together in real-time, rather than
through a screen. It embodied a complete rejection of the restrictions that so often
leech the life out of creativity.

Throw your support towards DIY parties, raves. Give your attention to a few friends
in a field with a dodgy generator and a soundsystem lugged by trolleys. Don't share
locations outside their intended reach. Volunteer your time if you're passionate.
Support local collectives. And most importantly, consider which corporations and
entities you're allowing to moderate the rave, a place which was once a sanctuary.

Feed the underground and it will nourish you.