It's Not A Rave, Officer [2.0] - tobias c. van Veen

Despite a contemporary understanding of"rave culture" as a hedonist, if not con-sumerist, capitalist, and escapist activity,"rave culture" remixed practices fromanarchism to squatting, performance artto immediatism. The liminal edges of raveculture raise a series of questions as towhat constitutes the nature of the "politi-cal," of the "social" and of the "subject"when such primary models are remixedthrough sound, movement, and bodilysensation. Rave cuts and filters thesepractices, strips them down to minimalcomponents, and transforms what cultur-al studies usually denotes as reactiveresistance to an affirmative experience ofthe sonic body.

Malgré un entendement contemporain dela ‘culture rave’ comme étant hédoniste,sinon une activité de consommation, cap-italiste et d’évasion, la ‘culture rave’ aremixé des pratiques allant de l’ anar-chisme au squatting, de la performanceartistique à l’immédiatisme. Les rebordsliminaux de la culture rave suscitent desquestions par rapport à ce qui constitue lanature de ce qui est ‘politique’ , ‘social’ et‘sujet’ lorsque des modèles d’odre pri-maire sont remixés à travers le son, lemouvement et la sensation corporelle. Lerave sectionne et filtre ces pratiques, lessimplifie à des composantes minimales ettransforme ce que les études culturellesdénotent d’habitude comme résistance deréaction à une expérience affirmative ducorps sonique.

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Journal for the Arts, Sciences, and TechnologyVolume 01 - Number 02, 2003

It's Not A Rave1

Tobias C. Van VeenMcGill University

Ce n’est pas un ‘rave’

dj Construct at <ST> Musikal Resistance, 2000,

Vancouver. Photo by Tanya Goehring

First record – scratch the title and offersome explanation: what are the politics of aresearch that investigates an affirmative ontol-ogy of becoming through rave culture? At stakeis the differentiation of such a project from nar-ratives of celebration and the schematizing of“resistant” social and bodily practices. Themajority of research performed upon rave cul-ture enlists these dominant semiologicalmodels, primarily employing Bakhtin’s modelof the Carnival and Kristeva’s notion of thesemiotic through the application of a gener-alised semiological ethnology comprised oflocating reversals of power and instances ofresistant bodies. As an object of study, raveculture has been nominalized as “neo-tribal,” a“subculture” and “post-subculture” in a posi-tion of stasis to “established” cultures. As a“neo-tribal” formation it is identified with his-torico-archetypal “tribal” themeatics that areanalysed as performing a misappropriationand re-production of nostalgic tribal origin.While these schemas will no doubt bear uponwhat what follows, and while these schemascan be said to operate at a certain significato-ry level of rave culture, they need to bedifferentiated if one is to consider the follow-ing aspects:

1. The dancing-body as the event in motion.

2. The affect of sound.

3. The temporarity of both event and body.

These three aspects of rave culture –focused as they are on the body in movementand of the event in movement in a temporary,sonic milieu – gesture toward a set of practicesthat continuously undermine structural under-standings of the social, the spatial, thetemporal, and the political. How does one

become sociable with sound, perform and actin sonic society, enter into the spun out worldof the speaker? How do we understand a “pol-itics of rave culture” when the very terrain ofthe political is remixed through the mobiledancing body and the transient event whosecurrencies are the ever changing refrains ofrepetitive beats? What are we to make of a pol-itics that can only be called “political” insofaras it questions the static peripheries of thepolis, indeed, of the material city and its laws,curfews, accepted places and sites of play andpleasure as well as its metaphysical and theo-sophical constructions? How do we turn an earto practices that transform scratch the condi-tions of possibility and impossibility of thepolitical, the community, and the buildingblocks of these discourses, the polis and thesubject?

Floor Bomb

No doubt that in presenting such a series ofbombastic questions, it becomes difficult toreconcile the philosophical and political stakeswith what is mediatized today as “rave culture.”Is rave culture a privileged site of such aninvestigation and discourse? Or is it “justanother subculture?” Yet what is a “subcul-ture?” And why would such an objection serveto trivialize a practice of insurgency? Whenever“rave culture” is approached as a special objectof academic research, it serves as a prop in thegame of theoretical script-writing: a model ofresistance, of carnival, of a resistant body. Like“subculture,” “rave” is reactionary and neveraffirmative. It may question but it does notproduce – insofar as we understand “produc-tion” as the production of history, of permanentnarratives, even if they are micronarrativesand not the elaborated grand narratives of old.This theory play is not what we are attemptingto do here. We are attempting to write anaccount of the alien production of the social,the political, and the body through sound,through movement, through tactility, througha temporary transiency – and in doing so, weare setting out to encounter philosophicalproblematics of the permanent, the static, themobile, the subject and of the social, of thepolis and of the “self,” through lived experi-ence. And what better lived experience to thinkthrough and experience than an experiencethat seeks to live that which is other to the tra-ditional, philosophical paradigms?

Delimiting the Deck

What I wish to outline here as “rave cul-

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ture” can be delimited to particular occur-rences in rave’s historical tapestry that madetheir mark when strains of underground dancemusic cultures – feeding from the sounds ofDetroit techno, Chicago house, and UK AcidHouse – conjoined the AfroFuturist narrativesof sonic resistance with the organization ofJamaican dub sound-system culture. From thisnexus “crews” and “collectives” were born,secret sonic societies, highly mobile and aural-ly fed through the revolutions of wax. Thewritings of Hakim Bey became widely read asa handbook for the practices of the TemporaryAutonomous Zone and the Tong. A network ofcollectives emerged that set into motion ananterior existence during sleeping hours. Asopposed to club cultures, temporary points ofgathering marked these “raves.” Autonomouszones of aural affect. In the city, warehouseswere broken into, squatted, or rented for thenight while transient occupations hauntedfarmer’s fields and backcountry forests. As themovement grew throughout the UK, raverssaw themselves as reclaiming long lostCommon land. Events attracting tens of thou-sands went on for days in the early ‘90s UKcountryside. As successful, anarchic and beau-tiful as these larger events were, they resultedin massive reprisals. The UK Criminal JusticeAct of 19942 disallowed any gathering playingrepetitive beats. An example was made ofBritain’s Spiral Tribe collective, who werebanned from the country, and rave culturemoved into the clubs, following what is alreadya recognizable trajectory of commercializationand the marketing of rave as a profitable ven-ture capital scheme.

This reductive account of rave historymoves from the late ‘80s into the ‘90s.Worldwide, rave culture has emerged with sig-nificant differences and timelines. Most scenesdo not hold the same relation to ‘80s AcidHouse music and culture that set the base forthe UK’s larger outdoor festival scene. In mostof North America, the Middle East, and parts ofEurope, rave culture took hold with only a hintof Acid House. Although North America stagedsome of its own large events – mainly in con-junction with the rise of Burning Man andvarious hippie festivals including RainbowGatherings – rave culture was, before its sub-sequent commercialization, operating in asmaller form primarily divided between “pro-moters” and “collectives.” Whereas promotersquickly grasped the commercial and industrypotential of rave culture, collectives strove to

organize streams of singular, one-off eventsthat broached various aspects of music andsexual subcultures. The “coming together” ofqueers, goths, electro and new wave freaks,cyberpunks, anarchists, activists, S&M scen-esters, tattoo and body modification lovers anddancers marked the milieu of these earlyraves. There was, at this point, no such thingas a “raver.” Nor was there a uniform “ravefashion.” Events changed locations andrequired elaborate sets of instructions, phonelines, BBS bulletin boards and checkpoints togain entry while the events themselves variedfrom bare-bones warehouse break-ins andsound-systems carted up logging roads inremote locations to elaborate and completefantasies built for the occasion. Warehousesbecame spaceships, dark cyberpunk haunts ofcircuitry and fantastical and mythical places ofritual through detailed and complexly themeddecorations and lighting that often drew uponthe talents of local artistic communities to cre-ate murals, paintings, fi lm loops andinstallations to transform the space into a timecapsule. One stepped through the door intoanother world that was no illusion: it was asreal as one’s body for the night.

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Agent T-X at <ST> Musikal Resistance, 2000,Vancouver. Photo by Tanya Goehring

The Invisible

Practices of collective rave culture con-tinue as globally dispersed and disengagedfrom the dominant commercialization of thelifestyle. The distribution of historical markersin rave culture are not equal. Viral strains sig-nal their existence and wholly alienevent-histories. As recent laws passed in NorthAmerica and throughout Europe have madenon-commercial music gatherings a criminaloffense, the edge of secrecy required for theorganization of events remains elusive. Luckilya persistent misunderstanding of rave cultureby police, politicians and the public has led touneven attempts at enforcement. A 1994Vancouver Sun article states that “City author-ities have banded together in a bid to stopyoung people from raving” by putting intoplace the requirement of “temporary liquorlicenses” that “will have to be purchased fromthe city a week in advance” (Parsons). Well!The effect of this license simply complicatedBC’s arcane liquor laws, while the tradition ofalcohol-free raves continued unhindered. Infact, for two years following not a single arti-cle on rave culture graces the press – theHalcyon Days of Vancouver’s rave scene.Although the police spent their nights chasingdown echoed beats in lonely industrial dis-tricts, in the public eye raves had disappearedoff the map of conservative concern until 1996,when the double-prong of a newly manufac-tured drug fear over Ecstasy and pressure fromcommercial promoters to legalize raves setforth a battle between law enforcement, com-mercial interests, ravers, the public,municipalities and civil liberties organizations.As of 2003, and whether legal or not under var-ious constitutions, raves are criminalgatherings. Various laws either link raves todrug-operations and “crack houses” – such aswith the US RAVE Act3 – or simply criminalizethe act of freely gathering to dance to music,creating a corrupt, commercial, and permis-sive structure requiring many thousands ofdollars in permits, extra police security, stripsearches, certified and well-lit venues, andpolitician pay-offs in order to conduct a “safedance event.” Yet from its beginnings rave per-forms a continuous remix. We could say: fromwarehouses to Reclaim The Streets, or fromfarmer’s fields to anti-globalization protest,from BBS culture to Indymedia.org, fromunderground DJs to sound-art-terrorism in thegallery and academic institutions.

dj tobias at Plush, 1998, Vancouver. Photo byJane Weitzel.

Transform Scratching the Political

What can we learn from the events ofrave history, in all their detail and nonlineari-ty? How does rave culture remix thepresuppositions of permanency that constructboth “history” and the “polis”? Rave culture hasnot only been tagged as immoral and danger-ous by a conservative public, but also as unableto sustain a politics, most notably in the workof Angela McRobbie and Michel Gaillot. WhileGaillot asks whether “politics” is the appropri-ate expression for the sonorous vocalizationsof rave culture, and in the process erases a nor-mative “political” aspect from the record,McRobbie argues that rave culture projects itsown demise through an implicit neoliberalistwork ethic. This failure of the “political” resultsfrom a lack of a fixed workplace as well as thedissemination of the singular occupation inwork and life. While she sees as positive themultitasking facets of those involved in raveculture – the multi-tasker as DJ, curator,net.artist, web designer, writer, journalist,police negotiator, sound-system tuner, musicproducer, event organizer, graphic designer,cultural studies academic – she sees the lackof a fixed workplace – and thus a lack of a stat-ic sphere of discussion – as a primary

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detriment to the formation of a quasi-socialistpolitics. Multitasking, variable work environ-ments contribute to a neoliberalist ethic ofself-imposed and limitless work. Althoughthese claims should be given rigorous treat-ment considering the significant connectionsbetween the organization of raves and anti-globalization protest, and the rise ofnon-localized, horizontal and international net-works of Internet contact, we can understandMcRobbie’s argument as echoing a certainaspect of Foucault’s discourse of the self-reg-ulated body. On the other channel, McRobbiesimply assumes that all politics stem from afixed locale – a politics of permanency that robsFoucault’s analysis of its transformativeimpact. “Rave culture” has been primarily sit-uated within this schema of permanency, of the“modern concept of freedom as subjectivefreedom” (Derrida 271).4 It is just this staticassumption that rave culture remixes throughits temporary politics. In returning to ask howrave culture samples and splices a politics ofpermanency – we could say of the polis – weexplore the transient temporalities of the bodyand event in motion.

A number of questions arise: Can a “pol-itics of difference” encompass an activistsonography of the dance floor? Is a theoriza-tion of fragmentation reconcilable to thetemporal experience found in the repetition ofthe rave-event that acts as intensity nexus fora politics of excess? Is “rave” a scene at all,even in its apparent ambiguity, or does it bleedthe mix of a dialectics of permanency? Is the“rave scene” incorporated into the scene ofmetaphysics, or does the rave incorporate themetaphysical scene as a track that remains onthe third deck, strangely unremovable due toits incorporated necessity? How does rave cul-ture scratch history in its sonic records? Howdo we open a fleeting moment? Again we sayfleeting, as in passing by the permanent. Yetrave exteriorizes the politics of permanency. Itexists for the moment: that moment is infinitein its experiential plane. And how do we soundout temporaneity without repeating an obvioustranscendental gesture of the infinite momentof ecstatic abandon or the salvationary ges-tures of what Kodwo Eshun calls“CultStud...where theory always comes toMusic’s rescue”? (More 00 [-004])

As rave practices set into motion commonconcepts of the “political” as a static terrain ofcommunication as well as remix the nature ofwhat is the political, these practices cannot bereduced to Bakhtin’s Carnival anymore than wecan delimit sonic movements to a burst of theKristevan semiotic. At the rave, the subject no

longer speaks, is no longer even “in process:”the subject has fled the scene of this rhythm.In the engagement with the repetition of therave’s permanent difference, the constructionof the “subject” becomes transformed as itsteps across the threshold of the warehouseand into a sonic temporality where relations ofthe body to sound and to echoed memory, tothe temporaneousness of the event itself, andto the unheard but tactile and touched otherremap onto a score of movement the “self.”

Movement Masochism

At the same time that we explore aninsurgent inventiveness in the practices oftemporary temporaneousness—a kind of“community” built through the repetition ofsimilar yet different events, organised in secre-cy and operating under cover of darkness,taking the concept of Hakim Bey’s TemporaryAutonomous Zone as its mantra—we need tochart the dangers and trajectories of rave cul-ture, to sketch the mechanisms which led tosubcultural commercialization and the turn toconsumerism, and to understand the dangersencountered by rave culture in attempting toreduce the dancing body, through sound, to abecoming-ear of the body, of attempting toencounter experience through a proliferationof volume, a proliferation of movement, a totalimmersion in a specific relation to sound andmovement. We need to trace the possiblemicrofascisms that arise in such an atmos-phere. We need to listen and touch thesedancing-bodies and bring them into close con-tact with the projects of power wired withamplified sound: the erotic and subliminal cut-ups of William S. Burroughs, La Monte Young’sresonant frequencies, Psychik TV’s cult per-formances of extreme volume – Hitler’sloudspeakers.

There are several points we can mentionhere.

1. Rave culture does not escape a meta-physics of violence. Nor is it exterior to thepolis. In fact, the polis provides a historicalcondition for the scene of rave culture – whichis not to say that the rave might not offer amap fissured in its temporaneous temporalityand sonic modalities that operate as other tothe sacrificial structures of the polis. The pureescape would either be absolute – madness,death, the real – or the metaphysical dream oftranscendence. There is a hint of suchescapism in the utopian dream of rave cultureand its acronyms such as PLUR – Peace Love

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Unity Respect – that drove the exuberant andnaïve beliefs of a party generation blind to theugly side of rave culture. For rave culture inthis respect does not escape a metaphysics oftranscendence. Models of the Carnival oraspects of semiotic creativity are often repeat-ed as symptoms of resistance to power. Toclaim say that rave culture is reducible to ametaphysics of carnival and resistance as areactionary force, an inversion of the dominantstructure, is to mistake the model for theevent. Although these structures may projecttheir power across rave culture, the claim thatthese structures are the structures of rave cul-ture fails to take into account the sonictemporality the dancing body and the event inmotion.

2. With rave there becomes – not always,but at moments temporary – an affirmativespatialization of sonography. A sonography isa sonic map that takes into account a tempo-ral and spatial milieu of the sonic. Thepragmatics of a rave sonography involvesdancing bodies engaged in practices incorpo-rated within the structure of the polis that defycity-limits. These dancing bodies engage inmasochistic and sadistic practices, aurituals,sonicities and sonictivities. The whole of raveculture operates, in its historical arrival, as astealth operation. Hakim Bey emphasizes theimperceptible as a secret society – a Tong orTAZ.

3. In the mix of these sonic topographiesand concerns of the dancing body and a poli-tics of the temporary are dangers and powerstruggles, the reinscription of sacrifice and sal-vation, of transcendence throughtranscendance.... Tendencies of control andfascism amidst the admixture of the fissuredTemporary Autonomous Zone. It is not sur-prising that the possibilities of the TAZ and ofthe “rave” have been reduced to the other.Geert Lovink notes that the “TAZ was boileddown to a late 1980s concept, associating theInternet with rave parties” (239). Spin theinverse – that “rave” was, in kind, reduced tothe TAZ. It is this reduction of the one to theother that mirrors the dangerous descent ofthe becoming-ear of the body to the emaciat-ed body, the drugged body, the burnt-out anddestroyed body. On the one channel the sonicbody engages with what Deleuze reads asmasochism, a reduction to a “Body withoutOrgans” through movement and sound. On theother channel the abuse of drugs and theimmersive immediacy into rave’s lifestyle ofspeed threatens to dissolve not only the bondsof the social in a positive movement, but to dis-solve the vestiges of the self itself – the burn

out. Rave’s history is littered with the fallenbodies of spastic dancers engrossed withspeed.

4. In other words from this record ofsounds, the rave is not analogous to a city – itis not a microcity to the metropolis in a micro-macro relation. Rave is the black key to thecity’s virtual analogue, a virtual synthesis ofsounds that reprograms harmony and dischordto warp under the twisted bassline of acidsquelches and echoed warehouse rumbles, agranularization of “culture” into clouds of frag-mentation and isolation in their hallucination ofbeing-together, agglomerate in crowds, mass-es, and populations, fissures that producessonic meaning, ensembles of a sonic chartog-raphy of the dance floor that moves at theperiphery of the city’s prescribed methodolo-gies of gathering and community. The rave isan-other site of the conditions of possibility andimpossibility for the community, offering a pos-sible conjunctive map to the city walls of thepolis. Whereas the Situationists sought to mapthe “intense urban atmospheres,” or “psycho-geographies” of the city (Sadler 69) raves seekto squat a dead zone and insonorate its envi-rons in a temporal acquisition of space ripe forthe actualization of a temporaneous sonograph– what Hakim Bey calls “psychotopography”(TAZ 103). While there is resistance to thepower of authority, the driving force is the affir-mative production of fissured time, and in thattime, a sonic personage that exceeds the “sub-ject” and a sonic space that exceeds the “polis.”Can we open our ears to this sonic temporali-ty that aurally spaces the conditions ofpossibility and impossibility for that whichexceeds the subject? Which is not to say thatthe negative determinants of the subject havebeen negated, that a politics of difference hasbeen erased, or that the problematics of thegroup, of fragmentation, borders and exclu-sions – ultimately, of authoritarianism andeven of fascism – have been magically tran-scended. To an extent of the “same,” they’vebeen remixed to a different beat, skipped reg-isters to the (h)ear and its fleeting temporality.Through movement these qualifiers havechanged in nature. To spin a sample fromSylvère Lotringer, there is an “integrity” to therave in that “only engagement really matters”(Doing 150).

5. Deleuze suggests that books be treat-ed like records (Dialogues 3). A DJ will tell youthat even an experimental set is bound to thedance floor. Whether one clears the floor orpounds it packed, the floor is the necessaryconjunctive, and not negative determinant, ofthe DJ. The floor is not imaginary, not a fanta-

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sy, despite its practical immateriality in thewarehouse as compared to the shiny dancefloor of the territorialized club. A dance floorcan be anywhere desire is attuned in the tech-nological configuration of the “rave,” of theevent of the rave, of the time-event in its tem-poraneity, of the masochistic relations betweenthe body, sound, the floor and the performanceof an echoed memory – wherever these andothers come to form the assemblage we nom-inalize as the event of the “rave.” Rave has nogrounds: it only deconstructs the floor. A reg-ister for dancing bodies to move upon. Rave’sdistance from the ground – and to the Grundeof Heidegger and others – is not only other, butalien and otherworldly. Rave cannot be disas-sociated from AfroFuturism in this regard, froma black musical history that samples its refrainsfrom Sun Ra, George Clinton, Afrika Bambaataand Kraftwerk to form what is known as Detroittechno – a primary sound of the collective rave.Kodwo Eshun says that AfroFuturism has littleto do with cultures of representation, with whathe calls, in the case of hip-hop, “Trad HipHop’scompulsory logic of representation and will torealness.” The rave-event, like the Detroittechno collective Underground Resistance(UR), “abandons street knowledge altogether”(Eshun 117). Which isn’t to say that alien oth-erness operates without the signals of itsearthly deterioration, without UR’s catastroph-ic inscription in the run-out grooves of theviolent plight of modernist Detroit, the city inits physical and empty actuality, the cementand metal of an empty warehouse, the mate-rial conditions of the city. It is, on the otherchannel, to affirm the nonrepresentationalsound of rave, its engagement, as Gaillotnotes, with voice as sonority (17) as a registerand not as authentic carrier of meaning: withsound as alien, bound to no earth. Scratch-sample Sun Ra: Space is the place. We can thusaffirm a potentiality of a voicing in rave culturethrough sonorous sound. Rave has no need ofa permanent and centralized position for dia-logue. It organizes in ways clandestine anddisseminated through temporal pockets of theInternet and geographical zones of indetermi-nacy. Rave sounds out its echoes andresonances in the creation of sonic milieus formoving bodies.

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Endnotes

1. A full version of the original cut of this paper can be foundin FUSE Magazine Volume 26, Issue 1, March 2003. Oncethe FUSE issue is no longer available, the article will be madeavailable in .pdf format here: <http://www.quadrantcross-

ing.org/papers.htm>.2. “Powers in Relation to Raves: This applies to a gather-ing...at which amplified music is played during the night.[...] Music includes sounds wholly or predominantly charac-terized by the emission of a succession of repetitive beats.[...] If a Constable in uniform reasonably believes that a per-son is on his way to a gathering to which this law applies,he may stop that person, and direct him not to proceed inthe direction of the gathering. If a person knowing that adirection has been given which applies to him—(a) fails toleave the land as soon as reasonably practicable, or (b) hav-ing left again enters the land within the period of 7 daysbeginning with the day on which the direction was given, hecommits an offence and is liable on summary conviction toimprisonment for a term not exceeding three months or afine not exceeding level 4 on the standard scale, or both.”‘Chapter c. 33’ in U.K. Criminal Justice and Public Order Act1994. (London), The Stationary Office Limited. <http://www.hmso.gov.uk/acts/acts1994/Ukpga_19940033_en_1.htm>3. For more information on this bil l, go to<http://thomas.loc.gov/> and under “bill number” searchfor S2633. 4. Scratch-sample: “...an experience of freedom, an open-ing that also resists subjectivation, that is to say, it resiststhe modern concept of freedom as subjective freedom. Ithink we will have to come back to this” (Derrida 271).

Works Cited

Bey, Hakim. T.A.Z.: The Temporary Autonomous Zone,Ontological Anarchy, Poetic Terrorism. Brooklyn:Autonomedia, 1985. Anti-copyright. <http://www.hermet-ic.com/bey/>.

Deleuze, Gilles and Claire Parnet. Dialogues II. Trans. HughTomlinson and Barbara Habberjam. New York: Columbia UP,2002.

---. and Félix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus. Trans. BrianMassumi. London: U of Minneapolis Press, 1987.

Derrida, Jacques. “Eating Well or the Calculation of theSubject.” Interview with Jean-Luc Nancy.Points...Interviews, 1974-1994. Trans. Peggy Kamuf.Stanford: Stanford UP, 1995.

Eshun, Kodwo. More Brilliant Than The Sun: Adventures inSonic Fiction London: Quartet B, 1999.

Gaillot, Michel. Multiple Meaning: Techno, An Artistic andPolitical Laboratory of the Present. Trans. WarrenNiesluchowski. Paris: Editions Dis Voir.

Lotringer, Sylvère. “Doing Theory.” French Theory inAmerica. Eds. Sylvère Lotringer and Sande Cohen. London:Routledge, 2001.

Lovink, Geert. Dark Fiber. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2002.

McRobbie, Angela. “Clubs to companies: notes on thedecline of political culture in speeded up creative worlds.”Cultural Studies. 16:4 July (2002): 516-531.

Parsons, Charlotte. “Warehouse Dances: City police, fireofficials aim to curb rave parties.” The Vancouver Sun. 23June 1994. B3.

Sadler, Simon. The Situationist City. Cambridge: MIT Press,1998.

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It's Not A Rave, Officer [2.0] - tobias c. van Veen