Techno has always been rooted in the underground, a counter cultural force defying the norms and, like the revolutionary Jazz movement of the 60’s and 70’s, a force for unity, a call for hedonism, but also egalitariansim, equality and compassion, in the face of the forces of conservatism. From the legendary Detroit label Underground Resistance to 90’s UK rave culture, from Castlemorton to the Cornish Free Party scene. Techno always had a ‘we don’t give a fuck’ ethos, that far from nihilistic, was an expression of love. A movement bound by the collectivism of the dancefloor. Defiantly outsider. Anecdotally a buddhist monk attended the legendary rave at Castlemorton, looked out at the writhing mass of sweaty bodies and proclaimed, ‘these people are praying.’ In an increasingly secular culture the church was replaced by the self chosen communities of the night club. But this was not a paternalistic sermon, this was pagan. Hence its perceived threat to the establishment, and in the UK for example, the tidal wave of histrionic press reporting and the draconian Criminal Justice Act, outlawing ‘music with a repetitive beat.’
So what happened?
It feels as though when the battle to outlaw the scene became unwinnable a new strategy- to subvert- arose. In this climate the animalistic release of pent up frustration was channelled into contained, licensed spaces. Buy your ticket, queue for the cloakroom, queue for the dancefloor, queue for a fag. Form an orderly line before you unleash that pagan energy, not too much mind, or theres a tap on the shoulder and an escort to the exit. I remember going to Glastonbury in the early 2000’s, shortly after the ‘ring of steel’ fencing was erected around the site, watching the police escort the amassed sound systems of the adjoining travellers site to the nearest county line. In their departure something was lost, the wild abandon, the carnage that brought a welsh sheep farmer with pockets full of mushrooms alongside a crew of shell suited scallies from Liverpool. It was dissipated, subverted, the DJ became the paternal god figure and the heathenry of rebellion was replaced by a new corporate reality sponsored by Coors Lite (WHP Manchester). East London’s Drumshed’s became the ultimate symbol of this subversion. Literally an old Ikea building, repurposed to contain this new corporate version of techno. Techno packaged for the social media age, to be consumed by a few primary users and disseminated via mobile phones. Consumed by a compliant audience from the comfort of their couches.
On the inner gatefold of the Prodigy’s ‘Music for the Jilted Generation’ a crusty looking traveller wields a machete, bringing down a rope bridge to prevent the amassed riot police on the other side from disrupting the party. This was one of the most popular acts of the 90’s openly flying its Anarchic agenda. In the modern era of package poppy, disposable techno, with its uniform of pseudo anarchic black clothing and phones to the fore, where has this spirit of rebellion gone? Has the subversion of the scene worked, or is this just a social media entry point for a new generation to pick up the baton?
Anti EP
In 1994, after the onset of the UK’s repressive Criminal Justice Act, Autechre released the ‘Anti EP’. Specifically designed without the prohibited ‘repetitive beats’ but thoroughly channelling the rebellious ethos of the techno world. A perfect ‘Fuck You’ that said attempt to constrain us at your peril, we will innovate, as we always have. We understand technology in a way that the geriatric legislature of the Westminster and the editorial offices of the Sun and Daily Mail never will. In doing so they also moved their production skills forward and shifted the bar for the scene overall. Wherever the modern equivalent might come from today, the scene needs it. The forces of neo-conservatism/neo-liberalism and capitalism are rampant, there is an increasing disquiet and outright anger at the extreme wealth polarity and rampant resource extraction we are witnessing. Bring back the true techno rebellion. We are waiting.