Techno saved my life. Kind off.
Loveparade, Berlin - 2000
On the 16th of May 1999 I went to my first real rave. I had fun, but I didn’t understand anything about the music. It was fucking loud and fucking repetitive. People were dancing to what sounded like a flat, hard, repetitive four-by-four kick drum. Jesus, that untzuntzuntzuntz. How could anyone lose themselves like that in this flat music? I danced, but not with passion.
At nine in the morning we walked through the streets of Bergen which were filled with people celebrating our constitution day. Everybody in their best clothes. I am glad I had sunglasses on. When we came to the place where we had the afterparty somebody put on Plastikman and my life literally changed. I got it, my whole body understood. The repetition was still there, the same relentless untz, but now I heard textures, tiny movements, details hiding inside the loop. Subtle changes in tone, in space, in tension. The music wasn’t flat at all. I had just been listening in the wrong place. What earlier that night felt only repetitive now became hypnotic.
Dancing has always been part of my life. I often brag about starting break dancing in 1984. I was shit at it, but I didn’t do breakdancing because I wanted to breakdance. I did it because I loved to dance and dance classes were certainly not an option. Techno and rave culture changed what dancing meant for me. It made me close my eyes, stop performing and stop caring about anything around me. The only thing that existed was music, movement and the people who smiled back at me when I occasionally opened my eyes. Wow, I actually got goosebumps thinking about it - hahahahahahaha :)
There’s absolutely something physical about techno. Other music can be more braindance music, but techno is body music. With a good sound system the low frequencies move through you, the kick punch your chest and the rest tingle your balance. After some hours on the dancefloor, and in perfect times, it can be like your dancing becomes one with the music.This is the most esoteric experience I ever have on a dancefloor. I am not schooled well enough to be certain, but I believe that this state of mind that is reached through dance is called Khandro Nyintig, or “dancing in the sky of awareness” in Tibetan traditions. It is that peak experience that I hope to make myself available for while dancing.
Techno asks for a form of patience and by embracing that you are given a form of audible space you can enter. This is where you leave your life behind for some hours. This is where you forget who you are for a while and shout LET’S HAVE IT at the DJ.In this space techno opens up for you to experiment with identity, roles, and expectations. It is a place to leave your mask behind and forget about being good, bad, angry, sad, broke, rich, cool or visible. It’s about being present. It is about music, sound system and the dance floor.
As with anything, Techno can be perceived as many things and my way of looking at it is certainly just one view. But, there is something undeniably primitive with people gathering around a repetitive rhythm and dancing together for hours. Something fundamental is happening. That something that is unachievable to reach by yourself, but you still enter alone. A kind of collective focus. Something in your mind.
Techno, for me, felt like coming home to something I didn’t know I was missing.And still I suck at making it, even after all these years. But, as my bland Indian food got better when I cooked it on low to medium heat I know my techno now will be better by shifting my focus on what I think it is. Luckily I have found a small bald master who teaches me the tools. Unfortunately he has a singing disorder. But that is for another text.