Glowsticks Category
I attended my first rave in April of 1996, and some of the most intense learning experiences of my early- and mid-20s took place in front of speaker stacks. Raving is directly responsible for my writing career, my relationship with my loving partner, and the deterioration of my short term memory. Thank you, American Rave Culture!
Speakernaut
29
May
2006
In: Glowsticks
I always refer to myself as a “retired raver” because I rarely go out, can’t dance for eight hours at a time, and am not the e-tard I used to be. But a few times a year the “retired” comes off that title and I just fully freak out in front of a speaker. Saturday night was one of those nights, and I found the absolutely perfect spot to spend exactly 2 hours dancing my sober ass off: the front right speaker at Neumos was far away from the bar and on the way to nothing, which meant nobody elbowing me or passing by. To my right was an emergency exit, which the security guard would prop open when he wanted to smoke, allowing the cool air to flow into the poorly ventilated club.
Best of all? The enormous speakers were well-tuned and perfectly blocked my view of the DJ, who’s music I love but who’s attitude bothers me. It was ideal: I had bass booming so hard that it made my skirt flutter (I’m totally not exaggerating, and yes, I wore earplugs) but the arrogant DJ didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing me shake it. I’m the bitterest groupie ever. I even have the damn DJ-branded tank-top, but I refuse to let the DJ himself see me wear it. Take that! I’ll support, but I won’t let you know. Hurrumph.
All scenester bitchery aside, it was awesome. I danced non-stop and didn’t let a single fool come between me and that enormous bass bin. Heavenly. Last month marked my 10 year raveversary and while I certainly don’t go out much (or imbibe at all), there’s no denying the simple truth that my version of heaven involves dancing my ass into a sweaty pulp and making out with Andreas in front of an enormous bass bin. Some things just don’t ever get old.
I am definition of summer-anticipatory ADD today. Can’t! Focus! It’s sunny outside and the party this weekend was just the most spectacular dip-of-the-toe into all the fun, flirty, belly-laughter and festival wonderment that make up my favorite summer moments. Now I have all these things to do (day job! editing book! remembering to change my pants!) and all I want to do is run around squealing and dancing and hooping and gossiping and hugging and! And! And! WHO WANTS TO GO RIDE BIKES!
See? Total ADD. Check back with me in October. My mental accuity will have returned by then.
Hello, outdoor party season!, originally uploaded by .Ariel.
For me, heaven looks like a weekend roadtrip in a van full of awesome women to an outdoor party filled with mostly good beats (and a few hours of awful psytrance), tons of hula hooping, waterfalls, walks, sweet kisses and endless amounts of nibbly food. Can it be a coincidence I got my ticket to Shambhala in the mail on Saturday? Let festival season begin!Oops, shit
2
Apr
2006
In: Glowsticks
I came home from a fundraiser for the survivors of last week’s shootings and was inspired to start the Lotus Magazine Archive project I’ve been thinking about for ages. It was late, but that’s ok! Then, as I was working, I watched it go from sort of late (1:59am) to really late (3:01 am). Crap! Stupid springing forward!I guess it’s appropriate that I’d be working on a rave magazine archive at 3am on a Saturday. Ooh, and I’m wearing my candyraver jacket right now too. Excellent.
I haven’t been an active member in Seattle’s rave community for many years, but I still feel profoundly effected by yesterday’s tragedy. The people killed were friends of friends, and a few years back it would have been me at that party. The victims were ravers, burners, freaks. Not the types often targeted by psychotics with sawed-off shot guns. These are folks who wear plastic jewelry, hug stuffed animals in public, and espouse “PLUR” (peace love unity respect). Not exactly the demographic prone to violent crime.
The only way in which raving is relevant to this nightmare is that ravers are known for their hyper-inclusivity. Hell, when I was a raver, I’d meet someone nice at a party and think nothing of spending the the rest of the weekend with them. It’s a community known for being accepting and loving and extremely friendly. Many of us these days are taught not to talk to strangers — ravers spit on that concept. Talking to strangers is the whole point! It may be the the only mistake these ravers made was inviting the wrong party-goer to their home.
I think many aging ravers remember the moment when they realized it wasn’t actually smart to be nice to everyone … you learn to avoid certain sketchies, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow. So much of the rave community is built around being accepting and tolerant. It’s a hard step to take when you have to say “I’m accepting and tolerant — but not of the tweakers who’ve been up for three days.” It breaks my heart to think that these slain kids learned that lesson the hardest possible way. The only crime these ravers committed, as far as I can tell, was being too open and kind to someone who ultimately didn’t deserve it. It’s tragic on so many levels.
I’m also fascinated by the rave community’s response to the media. Over on NWTekno.org, several journalists have posted messages asking to talk to people. Ravers are notoriously media-terrified, lashing out for perceived slights against the community by journalists everywhere. (Some of you may remember when I got slammed for an article I wrote for the Seattle Weekly a few years ago.) It’s sad to watch people turn down opportunities to represent the community they love. If you don’t like the media’s impression of ravers, go talk and represent the community yourself. It’s hard work, but it pays off.
As for the broadcast journalists and newspaper writers? They seem to be doing what they can to balance fair coverage with the fact that, well, it’s hard to ignore that many of the victims had come from a rave where they were dressed up like zombies. The salacious irony is rough to pass up. This is some of the better coverage I’ve seen. (Watch the video by clicking “Gunman Kills Six Before Taking Own Life” on that page.) This article is also interesting.
But meta-media aside, the scope of killings and the impact it’s having on Seattle is huge. Seven people dead on Capitol Hill (my old hood) on a Saturday morning. It’s a nice reminder that our hold on life is always tenuous.
PS: I’m finding The Stranger’s SLOG best for quick updates.
Warning: this will be funny only to aging ravers. (But if you are one, it’s very, very funny)
Speakernaut
29 May 2006 In: GlowsticksI always refer to myself as a “retired raver” because I rarely go out, can’t dance for eight hours at a time, and am not the e-tard I used to be. But a few times a year the “retired” comes off that title and I just fully freak out in front of a speaker. Saturday night was one of those nights, and I found the absolutely perfect spot to spend exactly 2 hours dancing my sober ass off: the front right speaker at Neumos was far away from the bar and on the way to nothing, which meant nobody elbowing me or passing by. To my right was an emergency exit, which the security guard would prop open when he wanted to smoke, allowing the cool air to flow into the poorly ventilated club.
Best of all? The enormous speakers were well-tuned and perfectly blocked my view of the DJ, who’s music I love but who’s attitude bothers me. It was ideal: I had bass booming so hard that it made my skirt flutter (I’m totally not exaggerating, and yes, I wore earplugs) but the arrogant DJ didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing me shake it. I’m the bitterest groupie ever. I even have the damn DJ-branded tank-top, but I refuse to let the DJ himself see me wear it. Take that! I’ll support, but I won’t let you know. Hurrumph.
All scenester bitchery aside, it was awesome. I danced non-stop and didn’t let a single fool come between me and that enormous bass bin. Heavenly. Last month marked my 10 year raveversary and while I certainly don’t go out much (or imbibe at all), there’s no denying the simple truth that my version of heaven involves dancing my ass into a sweaty pulp and making out with Andreas in front of an enormous bass bin. Some things just don’t ever get old.
I am definition of summer-anticipatory ADD today. Can’t! Focus! It’s sunny outside and the party this weekend was just the most spectacular dip-of-the-toe into all the fun, flirty, belly-laughter and festival wonderment that make up my favorite summer moments. Now I have all these things to do (day job! editing book! remembering to change my pants!) and all I want to do is run around squealing and dancing and hooping and gossiping and hugging and! And! And! WHO WANTS TO GO RIDE BIKES!
See? Total ADD. Check back with me in October. My mental accuity will have returned by then.
Hello, outdoor party season!, originally uploaded by .Ariel.
For me, heaven looks like a weekend roadtrip in a van full of awesome women to an outdoor party filled with mostly good beats (and a few hours of awful psytrance), tons of hula hooping, waterfalls, walks, sweet kisses and endless amounts of nibbly food. Can it be a coincidence I got my ticket to Shambhala in the mail on Saturday? Let festival season begin!
Oops, shit
2 Apr 2006 In: GlowsticksI came home from a fundraiser for the survivors of last week’s shootings and was inspired to start the Lotus Magazine Archive project I’ve been thinking about for ages. It was late, but that’s ok! Then, as I was working, I watched it go from sort of late (1:59am) to really late (3:01 am). Crap! Stupid springing forward!I guess it’s appropriate that I’d be working on a rave magazine archive at 3am on a Saturday. Ooh, and I’m wearing my candyraver jacket right now too. Excellent.
I haven’t been an active member in Seattle’s rave community for many years, but I still feel profoundly effected by yesterday’s tragedy. The people killed were friends of friends, and a few years back it would have been me at that party. The victims were ravers, burners, freaks. Not the types often targeted by psychotics with sawed-off shot guns. These are folks who wear plastic jewelry, hug stuffed animals in public, and espouse “PLUR” (peace love unity respect). Not exactly the demographic prone to violent crime.
The only way in which raving is relevant to this nightmare is that ravers are known for their hyper-inclusivity. Hell, when I was a raver, I’d meet someone nice at a party and think nothing of spending the the rest of the weekend with them. It’s a community known for being accepting and loving and extremely friendly. Many of us these days are taught not to talk to strangers — ravers spit on that concept. Talking to strangers is the whole point! It may be the the only mistake these ravers made was inviting the wrong party-goer to their home.
I think many aging ravers remember the moment when they realized it wasn’t actually smart to be nice to everyone … you learn to avoid certain sketchies, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow. So much of the rave community is built around being accepting and tolerant. It’s a hard step to take when you have to say “I’m accepting and tolerant — but not of the tweakers who’ve been up for three days.” It breaks my heart to think that these slain kids learned that lesson the hardest possible way. The only crime these ravers committed, as far as I can tell, was being too open and kind to someone who ultimately didn’t deserve it. It’s tragic on so many levels.
I’m also fascinated by the rave community’s response to the media. Over on NWTekno.org, several journalists have posted messages asking to talk to people. Ravers are notoriously media-terrified, lashing out for perceived slights against the community by journalists everywhere. (Some of you may remember when I got slammed for an article I wrote for the Seattle Weekly a few years ago.) It’s sad to watch people turn down opportunities to represent the community they love. If you don’t like the media’s impression of ravers, go talk and represent the community yourself. It’s hard work, but it pays off.
As for the broadcast journalists and newspaper writers? They seem to be doing what they can to balance fair coverage with the fact that, well, it’s hard to ignore that many of the victims had come from a rave where they were dressed up like zombies. The salacious irony is rough to pass up. This is some of the better coverage I’ve seen. (Watch the video by clicking “Gunman Kills Six Before Taking Own Life” on that page.) This article is also interesting.
But meta-media aside, the scope of killings and the impact it’s having on Seattle is huge. Seven people dead on Capitol Hill (my old hood) on a Saturday morning. It’s a nice reminder that our hold on life is always tenuous.
PS: I’m finding The Stranger’s SLOG best for quick updates.
Warning: this will be funny only to aging ravers. (But if you are one, it’s very, very funny)
Hey there. I'm Ariel Meadow Stallings, a native Seattleite who's written my way up and down the Left Coast. Electrolicious is where I post daily randomata, but I also write for a living. My first book, Offbeat Bride, was published last year.
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