The Chemical Gods of Rave
Posted: Tuesday, October 18, 2011
by MKDS
Storm Multi-Media Technologies Ltd
There was nothing strange about the twenty-eight hundred capacity club that sat on the edge of the City Centre, not to the three thousand “Good to go Raver’s” who were standing in haste outside the main doors, whether it was in the rain, hail, snow or high winds – their craving for the safety of the Inner Sanctum of the Nightclub was all that mattered. That was The Warehouse, Somers Street, in Leeds, West Yorkshire – The birth Club of New Culture Music in the 1980’s.
Let not those who were a part of “The 80’s – 90’s Underground Dance Scene” forget that the Clubber’s Way was an Adventure and as such the Adventure of ‘The Rave’ began as soon as you had been searched and given the nod to pass through that all important sound proofed door; the door which in all clubs remained tolerant to the deafening beats and melodic trumpeting sound that the DJ’s pumped out at more than two thousand watts. It was the passing through the door which began the journey down the Rabbit Hole and into a world that was not only different to the normal atmosphere of other clubs, but held something more, something special in the way of “Collaboration” – this club was a big player in “The Underground”.
From the moment the doors opened into the main part of the club, your ears, eyes, nose and mouth sampled the toxicity of energizing sounds that spun on White Label vinyl records, through the pre-amps and finally through the large ‘Jungle Warrior’ speakers that shook the floor like an Earthquake and rattled every tooth and bone in your body. This was the experience that had millions of Clubbers from all over the country converging, gathering and thirsting for. This was the reason that Friday and Saturday nights were blocking the inner accesses of the cities throughout the Nation, and this was the reason that so many of those loyal Clubbers bowed and paid homage to their favoured Club. This was the Mid 80’s, the early 1990’s, where no names were used in the dance that flowed through the night and in most cases continued into the following morning until Noon.
With the Clubs came the DJ’s: Hand in Hand like a glove. In many of the UK Clubs; The Warehouse (Leeds), Angels (Burley), The Hacienda (Manchester), Gatecrasher (aka Crasher in Sheffield), it was the Experience and Popularity of the DJ’s (Disc Jockey’s) that made the numbers of clientele queue up at the doors, down the street and around the corner. Such DJ’s as DJ Mickey, DJ Markey Mark (Mark Wahlberg), DJ Nipper, DJ Sebastian, DJ Kid (aka Kid Unknown) and DJ Carl Cox to name but a few. The choice of music, too, from such bands as PKA, Joy Division, Zode Royale, Pink, Messiah, The Prodigy, M.A,N.I.C and Fierce Ruling Divas, were among the top tracks of the 80’ – 90’s crossover culture between “Acid House” and “Rave” music.
Combining the DJ’s and their music set’s together it was the Nightclub Owners that brought in thousands of pounds per night in a good week, and to say that the Clubs in Leeds back in the 1980’s and early 1990’s were open four nights a week, that was a lot of money to be had or to invest in. The music scene was huge, colossal, even, and the atmosphere was just as fantastic as the next. It was like some upgraded version of “Saturday Night Fever”, something that even John Travolta would have been so very proud of.
The essence of the Club scene back then compared to now, was that nobody had to Fear the Reaper, the nutcase that jumped out at the weak and vulnerable, because way back then – and to coin a phrase of no meaning into meaning – “We were all in it together”, no matter if you were an office worker, police or prison officer, judge, prosecutor, long distance lorry driver, Hell’s Angel, Blue Angel or unemployed…it didn’t matter. Attitudes were straight down the middle, fair and square in all walks, as slowly each and every Clubber made their way through life with worries during the working weekly hours while at the weekend they shrugged everything off of their shoulders to be enriched with the music, the crowd of contented Ravers, the atmosphere, that perfect moment.
Upon the dance floors the Chemical induced Gods would writhe and stomp their way through six hours of none-stop, head-to-head 128 beats, building their tolerance into the more faster paced 440’s, until finally the DJ’s would slowly bring those minds, bodies and souls softly down from a cloud nine crescendo of great feelings and euphoric undertones. It was the Rave Generation, the ultimate seduction of Peace and Tranquillity which was slow filtered through the mega blasting Pioneer, Jungle Warrior speakers that became the essential connection between one city and the next. The term “One World – One Nation” stayed in the background of every Club that was a part of The Underground Music Scene in the United Kingdom, until finally expanding outward throughout the world. No violence, no trouble, just Party Essentials to the Clubs that Socialised with strangers with no real names.
The time was the Dance Era, the name of the place was The Underground, and in the Underground, there was no fear, no darkness waiting around the corner waiting to grab you, hurt you, or kill you. In the Underground everyone looked out for you, no matter what colour you were – everyone was equal and proud of it. But today…today, the term has been tainted, contaminated, infiltrated and made into something that all those Party-Goer’s of yesteryear would condemn in a heartbeat; ruthless, greedy drug dealers, dealers that double cross the buyer, rip the buyer off, youths who Rage Hard on polluted drugs that aren’t worth the products that they’re created with, bullies who mix both the polluted drugs and alcohol to Rage Harder than the next delinquent who feels so sorry for themselves and that they have to destroy someone’s life before realising they made a mistake. The list goes on and on, until eventually, we who wish to relive the age of the musical splendour called “House”, “Progressive”, “Techno”, “Trance” and “Dance”, stay away from the violently labelled cities and their majestic looking Clubs that offer only the protection within the Inner Sanctum and not from the outer walls where once they take your entry fee you are on your own.
They say “To blame one, is to blame them all.” If the blame of The Jilted Generation of teen’s attitudes was the result of “The 90’s Chemical Gods”, then what about those children whose parents didn’t go “Raving” on a weekend? Is it that these children are illegitimate? Is it that these children – Teenagers – who have picked up a knife at school, on the playground, on the street, and stabbed their friend, enemy, foe, who was also a teenager did it out of sheer boredom?
As I, too, have been the Dub-Star Raver, the Energiser Injector of Music (DJ) and I, too, have been at the end of a knife attack from a Nightclub, and it is the relevance of such a world that is before my own eyes that tells me that things are not only changing – but have changed. The Chemical Generation has been and gone as far as I can see, and all that remains is the Judas’s of The Rave; the Nightclub Owner who is out for himself to make money on peddling drugs (Bad Drugs at that) within his own building, hiding away in their prison office way back in the club where they are surrounded by a dozen guards and pay less for the talents of the surprisingly talented DJ’s of today, tomorrow and the future. My sorrow is that to me “Rave” died a long time ago, and yet, all that lives on is the music that carries the spirit along within the Organised Events throughout the world; Sensation, Earthquaker, Fantasia and the Whole Dance Movement’s establishment of the DMC World Championships.
“Judge not he who has lived and learned from sole experience, but celebrate that of the teachings from that experience which has led to a better life in the catacombs of life and nurturing of others” Marcus De Storm.
© Marcus De Storm 2011
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