Raving Not Drowning

The above track was created by Mansfield DJ Pete Unique with visuals and editing by NTU student Daniel Finnerty. It features Nicola reading extracts from her debut novel.

The decline of production and industry in the late twentieth century led to desolate landscapes and abandoned buildings throughout the industrial midlands and north of England. Warehouses and factories were locked up for good and left to rot, unwanted. But well before capitalists had the bright, shiny idea to do them up and make posh flats, the young people who might have found work inside these buildings under different circumstances, reclaimed them to party.

The trend in the UK for all night clubbing began with Northern Soul. As early as the sixties, young people would congregate to dance to rare soul tracks and stay up all night. Some of the clubbers took speed, which gave them the energy to stay awake and execute acrobatic dance moves. This subculture remained active and healthy into the seventies and into the eighties, with a club culture as well as illegal parties in warehouses and factories.

Meanwhile, over the Atlantic Ocean, a very different drug was keeping clubbers awake and dancing. And tripping. The Acid House scene in Chicago and Detroit was also exploiting abandoned industrial buildings and appealing to the dispossessed. With an accompanying visual culture of hallucinogenic smiley faces and other LSD inspired imagery, the music was characterised by the repetitive beats that appeal to tripping clubbers. The music reached us in the UK and it was different from anything we’d heard before. It was a revolution.

The rise of Acid House in the UK coincided with the ready availability of another drug, which was both an amphetamine, like speed, but had hallucinogenic properties to boot. MDMA was originally developed as a marriage guidance drug but was being synthesised and distributed for recreational use. At this point, most of those dealing the drug were hippy types, keen to share the experience and open everyone else’s minds. MDMA was quickly nicknamed ecstasy, thanks to the euphoric high it elicited. It also gave those who took it an enhanced sense of empathy, enhanced visual perception, and a crazy, mad love for the high bpm of the house music. It was the perfect party drug and the scene flourished.

Rave soon moved out of the warehouses and into fields and farms. Tens of thousands of people would flock to the illegal parties, finding out their locations via word of mouth. In the time before mobile phones, clubbers had to follow maps, ask at garages, or pick up the details of a number to ring from a note in a specific phone box. There was a voodoo attached to finding out where the rave was at, which made it all the more exciting. Not that it needed to be much more exciting. The ecstasy made the clubbers feel a togetherness that was exaggerated by the huge numbers of people dancing in a field together. It was tribal. It felt like a spiritual experience. Well, apart from the gurning, an involuntary tightening of the jaw caused by the drug. Ravers would combat this with dummies, whistles, or chewing gum. Another downside was the ‘Tuesdays’, a come down many party-goers experienced a few days after a rave, when their serotonin levels waned, producing a low, irritable mood.

In 1994, John Major’s government passed the Criminal Justice Bill, bringing in new powers for the police to break up these parties and arrest those who gathered together to dance to ‘music wholly or predominantly characterised by repetitive beats.’ I’m still trying to work out which kind of music is not, but there we are. The aim of this bill was to destroy the rave scene. And, in a sense, it had some success. Illegal raves continued but became a minority activity. They were somewhat replaced by the commercialised version in large clubs with superstar DJs. Many people moved with the times, and a scene evolved which shared the same love of ecstasy and repetitive beats. But whilst the drug dealing at raves had often revolved around hippies, wanting to pass on the peace, love and understanding, now it became increasingly urban, organised and violent.

There’s still a healthy rave scene in the UK, with massive, illegal parties arranged at outdoor venues, or squatting abandoned buildings in the traditional way. It’s easier for organisers to spread the word now, what with text messaging and social media. There’s a double edge to that, of course, because this means it’s also easier to get caught. Still, young people congregate in fields and abandoned factories and hold their arms outstretched in religious reverie. And older people go too, sometimes, searching for the past. Although, of course, it’s not like it used to be, back in the day. Ask any Old Skooler and they’ll tell you that. Probably for far too long and in way too much detail, grinding their broken teeth but smiling at the memories.     

Nicola explores rave in the comic Psychos, where a disused library is used for an illegal rave. Read Psychos on the Dawn of the Unread website.

Nicola Monaghan's website