02/24/2005 | Сергій Кабуд

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SOURCE:
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Full-text source: WilsonSelect Power play and
party politics: the significance of raving. Author:
Martin, Daniel. Source: Journal of
Popular Culture v. 32 no4 (Spring 1999) p. 77-99

Copyright:The magazine publisher is the copyright
holder of this article and it is reproduced with
permission. Further reproduction of this article
in violation of the copyright is prohibited.
_________________________________
======================================================================




The limited academic discourse surrounding rave
culture has so far
struggled to come to any concrete conclusions
concerning the political
significance of the largest, most dynamic, and
longest lasting youth
subor counterculture of the postwar era. In
attempting to reconcile rave
culture with the theories of the Birmingham
Centre for Contemporary
Cultural Studies (henceforth CCCS) or the work of
Jean Baudrillard,
academics have become lost in the ambiguity of
the experience of raving
and rave culture's differences from previous
youth movements. In this
article, I will examine the existing literature
about rave and come to
some conclusions about its cultural and political
significance. I argue
that the practice of raving and the values ravers
espouse, when combined
with its size (raving is now a worldwide
phenomena(FN1)), pose a
significant challenge to many aspects of dominant
western values.
The literature on rave, which has its roots in
the CCCS theories(FN2)
works within neo-Marxist frameworks, drawing on
the theories of Adorno,
Gramsci, and Williams, as well as on semiotic
analysis. The CCCS
concluded that subcultures such as the Teds,
Mods, and Punks were
manifestations of working-class youths' position
in society, and an
expression of alienation that would ultimately
fail and result in
incorporation into the mainstream. These youths
would grow up and, like
their parents, move into trades, without really
changing anything. Their
resistance was stylized and ritualized, without
any real political clout.
For these theorists, subcultures were "concrete,
identifiable social
formations constructed as collective response to
the material and
situated experience of their class...they were
also attempts at a
solution to that problematic experience: a
resolution that because
pitched largely at a symbolic level was fated to
fail" (Hall and
Jefferson 47). This insistence on a separation
between "symbolic"--
stylistic, non-effective--and "real," or
effective, resistance remains in
cultural studies, and I will argue that it
hinders rather than helps any
attempts to understand the significance of
raving.

The second body of work that analyzes rave could
be
termed "postmodernist,"(FN3) relating most
specifically to the work of
Baudrillard. For Baudrillard, the culture of
postmodernity has become
nothing but style--everything is as it appears,
there is no depth
or "true" meaning. Baudrillard's theories are
drawn on by the writers in
Redhead's Rave Off and also by Thornton in Club
Cultures. The majority of
this work still feels the need, as do I, to
respond to, or at least
mention, the CCCS. Other postmodernist theorists
have been used
sparingly. Stanley draws on Foucault; however, he
does not incorporate
empirical research into his article, instead
choosing to apply Foucault
to an idealized rave. While this approach is
valuable, it does not
address the kind of immediate political issues
discussed in the second
part of this article.

Much of the writing on rave culture, particularly
in Rave Off, seems to
have a confused notion of what power is, and of
what constitutes
meaningful political action. By applying
Foucault's analysis of modern
power, subjectivity, control, and politics, I
will demonstrate that
raving is in fact a highly significant cultural
movement that makes a
powerful political critique of the bases of
Western society.
RAVE, GOVERNMENT AND THE MEDIAA rave is an
event/space in which people--
usually but not always--young (Merchant and
MacDonald 15-35), gather to
dance to mainly electronic music. Newcombe
defined a rave as. a long
period of constant energetic and stylistic
dancing exhibited by a large
group of people in a hot, crowded facility
providing continuous loud
House music and an accompanying strobe-lit
psychedelic light show. (qtd.
in Merchant and Macdonald 18).

This definition makes a number of normative
assumptions about the nature
of a rave--the music is not always House,(FN4)
the lights not always
psychedelic, and the facility not always hot and
crowded. A more fitting
description might be that given by Stanley: "A
rave in its most simple
sense is a party" (103). For many, drug taking is
a large part of the
experience, with the drugs of choice among ravers
being Ecstasy (MDMA),
LSD, and Speed. However, the use of drugs is by
no means mandatory, and
consumption depends very much on availability and
personal preference.
Whatever suggestions the British tabloid
newspapers may make, not all
ravers are drug users.(FN5) Raves attract a wide
variety of people,
transcending class, ethnic, gender, and sexual
orientation differences.
Raves vary in size from small house parties with
30 or 40 people to huge
music festivals attracting upwards of 30,000
people.

Any attempt to define rave culture beyond these
loose guidelines would be
too normative and exclusionary. For instance, an
attempt to define rave
as a style, in the sense that Hebdige defined
Punk as a style, would
fail. Although there are certain prevalent
tendencies within rave culture
(in particular the appropriation of fashions from
the 1960s and 1970s),
there exists no definitive description of what a
raver looks like.
Instead, " f ashion has become a spectacular
free-for-all, within which
you are as likely to see jeans and a t-shirt as
an elaborate PVC space-
suit" (qtd. in Jordan 129).

Since 1988, rave culture in Britain has elicited
a number of extremely
strong responses from other sectors of society,
particularly the British
government and the tabloid press. The so-called
"Second Summer of Love"
in 1988, which saw the first emergence of rave
culture, was followed by a
media-led moral panic focused mainly on the drug
aspect of the culture,
and related issues of law and order. This was
followed by a series of
government actions aimed at limiting raves,
culminating in the 1994
Criminal Justice Act. Strangely enough (or maybe
not so strangely if one
considers the political implications), both moral
panic and legal
sanctions continue in the face of strong advice
against them from the
police and the medical profession.

The moral panic led by the media was nothing new.
The CCCS literature
identifies and examines in detail moral panics
surrounding each of the
main sub- or countercultural movements of the
postwar era.(FN6) Media
attention on rave centered around a number of
drug related deaths, and
the assumed moral deprivation of Britain's youth,
with headlines such
as "Love Pills Kill a Perfect Son" (qtd. in
Redhead 20), and "Acid Fiends
Spike Page Three Girls Drink" (qtd. in Melechi
35).(FN7).

In a corresponding movement, the British
government brought legal
sanctions to bear on rave culture. The first of
these was "an obscure
1967 statute, the Private Places of
Entertainments Act" (Redhead 20),
which required any private entertainment
organized for financial gain to
have a license. The Licensing Act (1988) gave
police greater powers to
examine licensed premises and increased
licensing sessions
(reapplication for a club's license) from once to
seven times a year, a
measure aimed directly at nightclubs. This was
followed by the
Entertainments (Increased Penalties) Acts (1990),
which increased the
penalties for holding an unlicensed public
entertainment, imposing fines
of up to 20,000 pounds or prison sentences of up
to six months. Lastly,
the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act (1994)
had the effect of
potentially criminalizing an enormous segment of
British society by
making the organization of and attendance at
raves acts punishable by
law. This Act attacks the ability of citizens of
the U.K. to protest
against issues (roadworks, government actions,
hunts) with which they
disagree, abolishes the right to silence, forces
people to cooperate with
the police without legal advice, and, most
importantly for ravers, allows
police to stop and arrest people whom they
believe have the intention of
holding or attending a rave, whether the use of
the premises be
trespassory or not (Goodman 11-12).

These actions by the media and government in the
U.K. are plays for
power. In its denial/transgression of certain
societal norms (which many
linked solely to drug use), raving could be seen
as a threat to the
established social order:. ordering and
positioning the morally
transgressive is a modern social strategy of
containment, regulation, and
colonisation.... The very practice of naming the
unconfined, the
undisciplined nomad of the city subjects them to
classificatory
knowledge, to some appearance of order, some rule
of identification and
regulation. The ability to control the presence
of marginals as named
subjects is central to the production and
preservation of modern city
moral order. (Little 17-18).

Power implies knowledge, and knowledge implies
power. In attempting
to "know" rave culture, the media and the
government both attempt to
exercise power over it. This is not to say that
the "other," in this case
raving, must be done away with. On the contrary,
the "other" is always
necessary for the definition of the self. In this
case, the morally
corrupt, potentially insane raver is set up
against normal, sane society.
Once raving is "known," it can be inspected and
regulated, and it
then "constitutes an object for a branch of
knowledge and a hold for a
branch of power" (Foucault, Discipline 191). One
of the problems
presented by the practice of raving is that it
defies any attempt to
comprehensively "know" or study it.(FN8). This is
not to suggest that
there is some monolithic, totalizing discourse
laid down in which the
government, media, police and professional
classes/bourgeoisie attempt to
control raves. There is a large amount of
conflict within these groups.
While Parliament and the tabloid media vilify
ravers, there are
substantial, if ignored, voices from within the
police, the more serious
media and the medical profession, which stake
counterclaims to those
outlined above. Within the medical profession,
these discussions have
centered largely around the health risks involved
in drug use,
particularly as little, if anything, is known
about the long term effects
of Ecstasy use (Merchant and Macdonald 25).

There has been some vocal criticism of government
actions concerning both
raving and drug use from the police in Britain.
Chief Constable Ron
Hadfield, appointed in 1992 to investigate issues
surrounding Britain's
free festivals, expressed his reservations
somewhat strongly: "Do you
really want to introduce draconian powers and
possibly end up with a
Tiananmen Square-type scenario, all because a
crowd of New Age travellers
and kids want to play some noisy music?" (Smith
32). The media
characterized a protest against the impending
Criminal Justice Bill with
statements such as the Daily Star's: "They made a
nauseating sight. For
three hours the dregs of Britain--scroungers,
anarchists and shaven-
headed trouble makers--rampaged through London"
(qtd. in Platt
15). In contrast, the police statement painted
quite a different
picture: "we have in excess of 20,000
demonstrators, the vast majority of
which were peaceful and well intentioned. There
were a few who decided to
cause trouble and we had mounted police to deal
with that situation"
(Platt 14).

There has also been advice from the government's
Advisory Council on the
Misuse of Drugs, in a report leaked to the
Guardian:. We believe there
are dangers in over-regulation and in resorting
to the criminal law,
which may well lead to conflict between young
people and the authorities.
We recommend that the organisation of more legal
raves be encouraged by
local authorities exercising maximum discretion
in the granting of
licenses, and by involving responsible organisers
of raves in the
process. (Maylon, Raving 13).

There are a number of problems surrounding
"official" discourses and
their relationship with raving. Although advice
from experts, such as the
police and the government's own officials, have
recommended a line of
cooperation and mediation with ravers, the law
continues along a path
more in line with the moral panic tone of the
tabloid press. This would
suggest that the government's actions are based
on a rationality built on
a perceived political necessity to be seen as
upholding law and the moral
order of society. This moral duty, and the threat
which raving poses to
it, is closely linked to the use of drugs in rave
culture, which has
fueled--and been used to justify--the moral panic
of the media and
government actions against rave.

Although not all ravers are drug users, to
discuss raving without
discussing Ecstasy (MDMA, E), would be to ignore
a large and influential
part of the culture, as for many, Ecstasy and
raving do go hand-in-hand.
Little is currently known about the long term
effects of Ecstasy use, but
its short term effects are well documented (see
Merchant and Macdonald).
However, the pharmacological/health effects of
Ecstasy are of secondary
interest for the purposes of this article. It is
the effet on the user's
mental state that is important. This effect has
been described
as "positive, inducing feelings of empathy,
alertness, energy and love"
(Merchant and Macdonald 22). It is both a "dance
drug," allowing the user
to dance for hours without stopping, and a "hug
drug," making the user
feel closer to those around them, and heightening
physical sensations.
Although the medical discourse around MDMA sees
it as mostly harmless, it
has been placed on the Schedule A list of drugs,
considered by law the
equivalent of heroin or crack cocaine, despite
the fact that
psychiatrists have argued for its value as a
therapeutic aid, and the
lack of proven long-term physical side effects
(Glanzrock 17). Indeed,
its placement on the Schedule A list precludes
human-subject testing to
determine what the long term side effects might
be. This means in rave
culture, "we are witnessing...a massive,
uncontrolled field trial of a
largely untested and potentially highly dangerous
drug" (Merchant and
Macdonald 29).

The government's response to Ecstasy, and to
other "soft"
or "recreational" drugs such as cannabis and
LSD-- and its response to
raving in general--is not rational in the sense
of the term which the
government might claim. Rather, it has a
political rationality that
embraces a particular form of governmentality and
discipline based on
morality and social control. The control of
Ecstasy is tied into a moral
culture that says it is all right to take drugs
for medical reasons but
not for fun. The nature of this reasoning is
demonstrated aptly by
comparing attitudes toward Prozac to those toward
Ecstasy. Both drugs
work in a very similar way. Each inhibits the
uptake of the
neurotransmitter serotonin, which stimulates
feeling of happiness and
well-being in the brain. There is also little
known about either drug's
long-term side effects. Despite this, Prozac is
now prescribed to
millions around the world, many of whom just want
to "feel happy even if
they are not actually clinically depressed,"
whereas Ecstasy is illegal,
because it is used "to make you feel happy when
you just want to have
fun" ("Better than Well" 91).

The British Government has faced internal
criticism for the way in which
it has reacted to both rave itself and the
related drug use, although its
reaction has been based on advice from police,
the Advisory Council on
the Misuse of Drugs and the Standing Conference
on Drug Abuse. These
bodies have argued that the government should
sponsor the licensing and
testing of drugs in a manner similar to that used
in Amsterdam. The use
of drugs among British youth has reached a
point--estimates on Ecstasy
use consistently come up with a figure around
500,000 doses per week
("Better than Well" 91)—where prohibition is no
longer feasible, and may
in fact increase damage (Maylon, "Dancing" 41).

What are the reasons for continuing prohibition?
One argument concerning
the moral prohibition of drug culture is that it
is antithetical to
capitalism (D'Angelo 4). The use of drugs, and
indulgence in hedonistic
pleasures, threatens the moral basis of
capitalism, which, if we accept
Weber's thesis,(FN9) stresses hard work and
deferred gratification. The
drug user here poses a similar threat to capital
as the lunatic. However,
Foucault's anlayses of lunacy, sickness, and
sexuality suggest that the
reaction to Ecstasy, and to rave, is more complex
than this. Rave poses a
threat not just to capital (it may in fact pose
no threat to capital at
all, as I will discuss in a later section of the
article), but rather a
threat to the social order, and to the ways in
which power is exercised
in western society. Rave culture undermines the
disciplinary control and
knowing gaze of modern western governmentality,
and the legal reaction to
rave is an attempt to reestablish this kind of
power over an unwilling
object.

Although the law may define or negotiate some
characteristics of rave
culture and influence the discourses surrounding
it, the law
cannot "know" raving in any conclusive sense. The
relationship between
raving and the law is illustrated by Stanley, and
its essential ambiguity
is captured in the negotiation of space-places.
Raving operates in spaces
that have been "given over" by the law,
signifying a failure of the law
to know or control in any universal manner.
"These spaces exist as
deregulated spaces and become nominated as 'wild
zones by the state.
They are not spaces without law but they are
spaces of the without-laws"
(Stanley 91). These "wild zones" (disused
warehouses, empty fields,
carparks, or any other large, open space in which
a sound system can be
set up and people can dance) are the
reappropriation and subversion of
rational space and also alternative spaces where
other discourses can be
articulated. It is in these spaces that
"narratives of dissensus" can be
expressed (Stanley 92). Within these spaces where
the law is subverted or
avoided, resistance or escape can take place.

The space in which we live cannot be separated
from what we do in it.
Neither can space be completely separated from
mechanisms of control.
Foucault has outlined how the colonization and
rationalization of space
was central to the project of governmentality and
the evolution of modern
forms of governance (Reader 241-42). In his
discussion of the Panopticon,
architecture, space, discipline, and power come
together in a form of
almost pure control (see Discipline). Yet at the
same time that spaces of
control exist, there are also sites of
deregulation--counter-spaces--and
between these two kinds of sites there will be a
certain tension.
The problem for government emerges in the
regulation of space within the
modern urban environment, especially in an era of
deregulation:. The
difficulties of controlling the sprawl of the
urban from a disappearing
centre, as a result of both policy (deregulation)
and inevitability (the
logic of the post-industrial society), is one of
demographic control of
the organisation of the movement of peoples
between regulated (ordered)
and deregulated (disordered) spaces-places.
(Stanley 93).

The law attempts to control movement and space in
a milieu where this is
increasingly difficult to do. The law then finds
itself in conflict in
that a knowing gaze can only be maintained over a
static object. If
meaning is constantly changed or subverted, how
can it be comprehensively
known? The constant movement and flux it is faced
with make it impossible
to encompass all the spaces of the urban. Total
surveillance is doomed to
failure. A disciplinary map cannot be constructed
over an object which
refuses to remain static, "regulation within the
urban becomes a process
of suture over rupture, a body politic in a state
of accelerated
sclerosis" (Stanley 94).

The response of the state is to nominate "wild
zones," fenced off areas
in which the transgressive is able to be
regulated, not directly, but
through being identified as dangerous, as
"other," as a problem area.
These are ambiguous spaces, strategic admissions
of failure by the law,
but at the same time necessary, as the "other" is
always necessary in the
construction of a "self." These are the spaces in
which raves are able to
take place, in which resistance or dissent
becomes possible. At the same
time, they allow the construction of the rave as
disordered "other" to
society's(FN10) ordered and sane self. I will
return later to the
importance of space and movement to rave as a
political practice.
RAVE AND THE SOCIAL ORDERRave culture offers a
powerful critique of
contemporary British society(FN11) which cannot
be viewed as simply
symbolic, as the tradition of the CCCS would lead
us to believe. Ravers
follow on from hippies and punks in their pursuit
of alternative values
and lifestyles, but there are certain glaring
differences between rave
and its predecessors. Rave culture is probably
the largest
youth/sub/counterculture of the postwar era. Only
a small minority of
youth were ever hippies or punks. Estimates in
the U.K. for 1992 suggest
that rave culture, in both legal clubs and
illegal raves, generated door
sales of some 4 billion pounds, outstripping
sports, live arts and movies
combined (Thornton 15).

Revenue prospects such as this might suggest that
rave would be welcomed
into post-Thatcherite Britain as a productive and
booming industry,
embraced by capital and by government for its
income generating
potential. Why then, is rave culture still
marginalized, still demonized?
I believe it is because the critique it offers is
potentially more
dangerous than the money it generates. While
generating profit, its
hedonism denies the side of capitalism that
stresses the deferral of
gratification and, at its best (when raves are
thrown in order to throw a
good party, as opposed to opening a club to make
money), it denies the
basis of exploitation upon which capitalism is
built. It fosters values
and morals counter to the dominant norms in
society and threatening to
those who attempt to define it as "other" (which
I will discuss later).
Yet, in its ambiguity, it defies the easy naming,
knowing, and
colonization that would see it incorporated into
the mainstream of
society in the same way that aspects of hippie
culture have been. As the
culture has grown, so has the potential threat it
poses to "norms" of
society:. As the "moral panic" developed, a
conflict between the idea of
free enterprise and a conservative hierarchical
social structure became
apparent. Law-abiding citizens were positioned in
contrast to fantasies
of an evil cult that congregates at mass
sex-and-drug orgies. At first,
the police were not very interested in a
relatively small number of
people engaging in the intake of illicit
substances such as ecstasy, even
though it was listed as a Class A drug.... It was
only when thousands of
people became involved, attending large social
gatherings...and seen to
be enjoying themselves like the "rich," that the
social order
was "destabilised." (Rietveld 68).

One of the defining characteristics of rave
culture is that it is based
on a sense of community, even of tribalism. This
is reflected in the
names of music collectives and party organizers
such as Spiral Tribe, Dub
Tribe and Groove Collective. This communitarian
underpinning helps to
perpetuate positive feelings toward others. Rave
culture tends toward an
inclusive egalitarianism. Unlike previous youth
cultures, rave is truly a
mass phenomena, not the domain of an elite few.
Conservative estimates
are that "hundreds of thousands" of youths went
raving every week in
Britain in 1994 (Merchant and Macdonald 18).
Rave culture has drawn
heavily on gay culture, and taken from it a
certain camp sensibility, joy
in spectacle, openness, and self expression not
seen in traditional clubs
(Murphie and Scheer 179). This acceptance means
that groups traditionally
marginal in youth cultures, or possibly even
victims of the violence of
some previous cultures (women, homosexuals,
ethnic minorities),
participate in rave culture without the same
threat of violence found in
traditional pubs and clubs. The Rave is not an
essentially masculine
affair and Rave Culture, unlike many other youth
subcultures, is not
dominated by machismo and masculine styles of
behaviour. The more
egalitarian gender relations and the lack of
sexual threat at Raves make
them virtually unique. (Merchant and Macdonald
33). Although the ethnic
mix at raves is more dependent on locality (i.e.,
likely to be more mixed
in the south of England, where the population is
more mixed), there seems
reason to believe that rave culture is more
tolerant in this sense as
well. Displays, or even threats, of violence seem
to be rare, and a
tenuous link has even been made between the
growth of rave culture and
the decline of football hooliganism (34).

The egalitarian image of rave culture is not
universally accepted.
Thornton, in analyzing rave culture, has
emphasized internal hierarchies
based on subculture/mainstream and
in/authenticity dualities. She bases
this analysis on the concept of "subcultural
capital," a notion drawn
from Bordieau to make sense of the distinctions
within youth culture. She
argues that rave is a "taste culture" (3), and
that these similarities in
tastes and discriminatory gate-keeping practices
(which maintain gender
balance and keep minority group numbers down) are
"arguably the
precondition for that oft-celebrated experience
of social harmony, the
thrill of belonging" (24).

Thornton's ethnographic research was carried out
not among
regular "punters," but rather by talking with
DJs, promoters, and club
owners--the inner circle of ravers. Likewise, her
descriptions of gate-
keeping practices seem to apply only to specific
situations--nightclubs
where tickets are paid for at the door, as
opposed to pre-sale tickets
for nightclubs and actual raves. This approach
might tend to skew her
conclusions in the direction of an
elitist/hierarchical picture of
raving. These are the groups of people who have
the most to gain or lose
by such a notion of "subcultural capital," and
are most involved in an
internal hierarchy within rave culture. Her
conversations with regular
clubbers tended to put more stress on the
relationship between rave and
the mainstream. While not disputing the existence
of internal
hierarchies, it is possible that a different
weighting of the research
may have resulted in differing conclusions. Other
studies, such as
Merchant and Macdonald's, have come to different
conclusions stressing
the egalitarian nature of rave culture.

Thornton's idea of a "taste culture" is also
somewhat problematic.
Although ravers are brought together by similar
tastes and desires such
as music or dancing, a wider view of people who
attend raves shows
anything but a homogenous crowd interested only
in electronic music and
drugs. Raves draw people from a wide spectrum of
society, ranging from
New Age travelers to university students, with
"older groups of young
people (in their late twenties and thirties)
participating as vigorously
as teenagers" (Merchant and Macdonald 34). Most
raves play a varity of
music, and today's techno traces its roots to
sources as diverse as acid
jazz, salsa, punk, Manchester guitar pop, disco,
classical music, and the
experimental electronic work of musicians such as
Kraftwerk and Brian
Eno. At any rave the music may vary from mellow
ambient and dub, played
at 30-40 beats per minute, to Rotterdam and
Hardstomp, which can go up to
250 bpm. Thornton's claim that ravers are somehow
homogenous, brought
together by some mass taste, contradicts her own
assertion of difference
within rave culture.

The extent to which rave can be considered an
egalitarian culture is far
from resolved and the amount of actual
ethnographic work done on rave
culture is far too limited in scope to come to
any premature conclusions.
Thornton's research contradicts much of the other
work on rave culture
(Redhead et al., Merchant and Macdonald), but
this does not rule out the
validity of her claims. Rave culture does have
internal hierarchies, but
these hierarchies are themselves qualitatively
different from those of
the dominant culture, as they are based largely
on the extent to which
one participates in the culture, rather than on
gender or skin color. It
may be possible to argue that the hierarchies in
rave culture are also
more benevolent than those they replace, as there
is no evidence within
rave for the kind of violence associated with
other youth cultures, such
as mods, skins, or punks. More research is
required on these
contradictions before any firm conclusions can be
drawn. However, despite
its internal hierarchies, I argue that in rave
culture we are witnessing
a radical alteration or critique of the dominant
social order, and that
in its size there exists a great possibility for
change, as youth
worldwide experience firsthand a more egalitarian
culture. Even Thornton
admits that "youth are rebellious in their
opposition to the mainstream
as a complacent, dominant culture" (166).

If we accept Foucault's analysis of power as
omnipresent,(FN12) then
Thornton is looking in the wrong direction. Rave
cultures functioning
inside of capitalism, and the existence of
internal cultural hierarchies
are not faults that undermine the positive
aspects of the culture. If
power is everywhere, there will always be
hierarchies. The nature of
those hierarchies must be examined, and I propose
the hierarchies in rave
culture are less damaging to those at the bottom
than the hierarchies
found in other subcultures and in the dominant
social order. Power cannot
be done away with, but working within capitalism,
rave uses the
power/knowledge nexus of modernity to subvert
modern forms of control and
regulation (see the final section of this
article). That rave has
hierarchies and incorporates aspects of
capitalism does not necessarily
undermine the value of the critique it offers or
the positive values that
ravers espouse.

Rave's legacy cannot yet be known, as it is a
culture that appears to
still be growing, and about which academic
knowledge is severely limited.
But if the voices of those involved in the
culture are anything to go by,
rave culture poses a serious threat to the social
order and to dominant
morality. One example is: "Rave Culture has
served to democratise youth
culture and to involve large numbers of people
from diverse social
backgrounds" (Merchant and Macdonald 35), but it
has also changed the way
many of these people think, as. many thousands
of "ordinary" and working
class young people have, probably for the first
time, experimented with
powerful, illicit drugs. Given the popularity of
Ecstasy (and other drugs
like cannabis), it is unlikely that young people
will forget the positive
experiences they have had and return solely to
the consumption of
alcohol. (Merchant and MacDonald 35).

This is not, however, a consensual view of rave
culture. Those who,
despite rejecting the CCCS's class-based view of
youth cultures, still
share the CCCS's view of what real political
resistance entails, see rave
falling short of making a meaningful difference.
For these theorists "a
(politica) critique was never posed. Rather, a
threat to the symbolic
order was made by the attempt to avoid it
altogether. No meaning could be
found other than pure escape" (Rietveld 43). For
Rietveld, attempting to
analyze rave through the work of Baudrillard,
rave culture offers a
symbolic threat, but in the end this is not
enough because, finally, it
has no meaning. A political critique is never
made, because rave simply
avoids the symbolic order altogether, and as such
the practice has no
meaning except escape. Rietveld's point here
depends very much on a
particular definition of politics, and seems
somewhat confused, as she
also states that this escape is necessary to
avoid a knowing or
colonizing gaze--the only way to ensure some kind
of freedom--and that
this could "possess a greater threat than simply
to pose a subcultural
style within the context of a so-called dominant
culture" (65). Rietveld
fails to fully acknowledge the political
potential that lies in this
refusal, the real subversion that can come as a
result of a symbolic
threat.

Rietveld was writing in 1992, before the Criminal
Justice Act was passed.
However, post-CJA writing that continues to draw
on the work of the CCCS
has continued this criticism of rave culture.
Thornton argues that ravers
define and "know" the mainstream in the same way
that it attempts
to "know" them, and that ravers purposefully
create themselves as
an "underground," fighting the power of the
mainstream. For her, the
negative aspects of the hierarchical nature of
rave culture are clouded
by the fondness that youth subcultures have for
appropriating political
rhetorics and frequently referring to "rights,"
"freedoms," "equality,"
and "unity." This can be seen as a strategy by
which political issues are
enlisted in order to give youthful leisure
activities that extra punch,
that je ne sais quoi, a sense of independence,
even danger. (Thornton
167).

For these theorists, rave culture has not
subverted dominant cultural
patterns, but rather offers alternative patterns.
As such, rave culture
has established its own kind of morality, most
notably around drug
culture and a refusal to see the law as the
arbiter of what is wrong. For
ravers, the law is an arbitrary rule that has
criminalized, with somewhat
fuzzy logic, what they do for fun (Stanley 105).

Thornton's claims about the intentions of ravers
and their use of
political rhetoric smakcs of one of Marx's more
dangerous theories of
culture, that of false consciousness. This was
the same kind of thinking
that surfaced in the works of Adorno to dismiss
pop music as the cultural
equivalent of the factory in enslaving the minds
of the people, and to
instate classical music as the cultural product
of an intellectual
avantgarde (Adorno 1-70). The problem with this
kind of theory is that it
assumes the stupidity of the majority of the
population and seeks to
claim a privileged role for the academic as the
bearer of truth and
knowledge. Thornton's claim that rave is
apolitical (in her sense of the
word) lies in direct opposition to the fact that
20,000 "scroungers,
anarchists and shaven-headed trouble makers"
(Platt 15) turned up outside
Downing Street to protest the CJB; that action
groups such as Liberty and
Charter 88 have attracted large numbers of ravers
(Foley 48); and that
many ravers attempt to follow a lifestyle which
values the freedom of
others. Theories of false consciousness come to.
a sad conclusion, which
does little justice to the feeling of elation
that a rave event can give
to its participants. Neither does it explain the
"moral panic" of
the "righteous citizen," whose view on the world
is shaped by
representations that reconfirm the solidity, the
inalterability, of the
dominant, or established, symbolic order.
(Rietveld 58).

The effects of Thornton's argument here is to
disempower rave culture,
its knowledge, and claims, and to return the
academic to a privileged
position of knowledge and power, as arbiters of
truth. It is also to deny
the power of hundreds of thousands of people in
the U.K. (Merchant and
Macdonald 18) going out every weekend to pursue
an activity which the
government has tried, for eight years, to
destroy.

Thornton's work falls into a body of Marxist
cultural theory which has
attempted to reinscribe the power of Marxism
within cultural studies. A
central argument of these theorists is that
postmodern theory has been
too quick to see difference as a good thing in
itself. However, diversity
is the new control mechanism of modern
capitalism. In the late twentieth
century, capital has realized that an attempt to
control through unity or
conformity will fail because "attempts to
establish a common ground of
control inevitably open a common ground for
opposition" (Tetzlaff 19).
Resistance will occur no matter what, and it can
be best controlled
through a fragmentation of the grounds for
resistance and the direction
of opposition into areas where they cannot do
much harm (19).

There are problems with this line of logic. It
criticizes popular
cultures for their lack of unity, and their lack
of real political
action, but does not provide any new basis for
politics. Tetzlaff and
Thornton both hark back to a Marxist ideal that
everyone is going to
unite on some common ground to fight capitalism,
but they provide no real
basis on which this kind of ground can be built.
Tetzlaff defines "a
cultural practice as oppositional if it resists a
primary form of power
in effect at a site where it occurs. Since these
sites differ, opposition
would always be context dependent" (22). This
definition subverts his own
notion of unity, by making a statement to the
effect that the form and
purpose of opposition are always dependent on
context.

Thornton makes a similar argument about rave
culture. Her complaint about
earlier theory, including some of the CCCS work,
was that. difference
was cast positively as deviance and dissidence.
If one believes that it
is the nature of power to homogenise...then
difference can be seen as a
good thing in itself. But if one considers the
function of difference
within an ever more finely graded social
structure, its political
tendencies become more ambiguous.... Each
cultural difference is a
potential distinction, a suggestion of
superiority, an assertion of
hierarchy, a possible alibi for subordination. In
many circumstances,
then, the politics of difference is more
appropriately cast as
discrimination and distinction. (Thornton 166).

Although there is a valuable point made here
concerning the possible
dangers of difference, there is every bit as much
danger in condemning
difference out of hand as there is in accepting
every difference with
open arms. Thornton also ignores the side of rave
culture which "celebrat
es the pleasure of difference, rather than its
violence" (Murphie and
Sheer 179).

What should be examined is the nature of the
difference we are talking
about. One of the most vaunted aspects of rave
culture is the feeling of
unity or oneness found at raves. For youth in
Britain, rave culture
is "the start of a reaction against post-punk
fragmentation, with common
experiences (1980s Tory unemployment) and
objectives (raving) uniting
youth once again" (Russell 117). Rave is a
celebration of the differences
between people--that it is neat that I am
straight, you are gay, I am
black, you are white--and that there is a common
practice, raving, which
can bring these people together, and in which
they can articulate their
dissent from a dominant culture which does not
cater to their beliefs
about life. Again, Thornton never quite makes it
clear what it is about
the differences in rave culture that are good or
bad, or what kind or
sameness she thinks could be better.

In the end, there is nothing that can guarantee
control, by either the
state or capital, through fragmentation unless
one buys into a notion of
false consciousness and a belief that humans are
easily fooled. The
creation of numerous small groups, the
splintering of identity, and the
growth of difference may seem plausible
mechanisms of control until one
realizes the possibilities that such splintering
has to backfire, and the
potential such groups have to take on a life of
their own—one which may
potentially threaten large-scale institutions of
social control.
THE POLITICS OF PARTYINGPart of what is at stake
here is the definition
of political. The arguments about the nature of
rave culture come down to
different notions about what can and cannot be
considered political,
oppositional or resistant. If we are to accept
raving and similar
practices as politics, then we need to address
exactly what we consider
politics to be.

In Britain, raving has been aptly described as
"Hedonism in Hard Times"--
the insistence on enjoyment no matter what the
circumstances: no matter
how bad the social situation, these people will
have fun (Redhead 2).
Many ravers would themselves reject the word
politics in favor of the
term spirituality to describe what they do. This
term is an expression of
the link between themselves, everyone else, and
the planet. Nevertheless,
this can still be construed as political. My
profoundest political
revelation (is revelation the same as the
revolution of the mind?) came
not during a strike, or at a committee meeting to
discuss the future of
socialism: it came at a rave...afterwards I knew,
with an understanding
that went deeper than the rational, that the land
was truly mine, all of
the land, all mine and all everyone else's at the
same time; that the
land contained ecstasy, beauty, sensuality, love,
and that the pulsing
heartbeat of the music was rippling through her
body like a shiver and
she was being awakened by it. Take it or leave
it: it is my belief.
(Stone 12).

Foucault's second definition of subjugated
knowledges is "a whole set of
knowledges that have been disqualified as
inadequate to their task or
insufficiently elaborated: naive knowledges,
located low down on the
hierarchy, beneath the required level of
cognition or scientificity"
(Power/Knowledge 82), a definition which well
fits the ravers' knowledge
of the world stated by Stone. For people in
Britain, and around the
world, raving is that exercise of freedom which
is its own guarantee
(Foucault, Reader 245). If we accept that fun can
be political, then
raving can be a political practice which
challenges our very notions
about ourselves. It subverts dominant images of
subjectivity and
discipline, it states that politics does not have
to be negative, nor
does it have to be cooped up in committee rooms,
and that protests don't
have to be angry. Raving shows that a positive
assertion of values and
practices, which change the way a large
proportion of the population live
their lives, can be more constructive and
affirmative than any political
party (in the traditional sense).

Raving also undermines some of the most basic
underpinnings of our
society. In Discipline and Punish, The History of
Sexuality, and other
works, Foucault outlined how the subject is
created in modern western
societies through practices of discipline, and
the power relations
involved in this. The modern subject is produced
as an individual by
various practices through which "the subject is
led to observe, to
analyse, to decipher, and to recognise himself as
a domain of possible
knowledge" (Foucault, "Power, Moral Values" 14).
The practice of raving
undermines, the kinds of notions of subjectivity
which have led to the
creation of the modern subject in the form which
Foucault describes.
This can be illustrated through two of the
central aspects of rave
culture: music and dancing. Rave music, or
techno,(FN13) undermines
traditional notions of the creation, performance
and dissemination of
music. To state this polemically, "techno-rave
puts an end to nearly four
hundred years of the great European bourgeois
individual in music" (Tagg
219). In Thornton's terms, rave is not a live,
but a record culture. Yet
the deconstruction of music goes even beyond the
simple change in live
performance becoming secondary to DJ's spinning
records. Techno is
created on machines, using samplers, computers,
and drum machines. If
live instruments are used, they are generally
processed through a
sampler, with the sounds cut up and transformed
in the process. Techno
artists also make heavy use of samples, often
using sounds not generally
heard in music--trains, planes, animals, running
water and the wind being
but a few examples. In its live format, DJs will
often play two or more
records simultaneously, altering their speed and
pitch and mixing them
together to create something quite different from
the original product.
No longer is pop music produced
and--crucially--owned by musicians
recording "original" tracks based on melodic and
harmonic principles.
Ambient and techno can be made on computers in
bedrooms, and are more
concerned with texture than melody. House music
can be created purely by
mixing together other peoples records, using
sampling technology. Many
records central to E-culture aren't even
available commercially--they're
DJ-only "white labels." Much of what is played at
clubs is created on the
spot by DJs. There is no "original." Dance music
can be imitated, even co-
opted, but it remains, by nature, subversive.
(Manning 41-42).


Techno disorganizes our basic notion of art, and
the meaning of
signs, "by continually reproducing its own means
of production--
sequencing and sampling--it becomes like a
reflexive utterance that is
capable only of mediating upon itself: there is
no ultimate founding
narrative presence" (Stanley 111). Techno
decenters the subject,
refusing the pop star or the cultural icon as the
glorified subject. Tagg
has illustrated how western popular music of the
twentieth century serves
to glorify the individual subject, from the jazz
band leader through to
the guitar hero and pop singer, as the basis for
production. In this way,
pop music works alongside Foucault's disciplinary
practices to create the
modern subject as individual. Techno decenters
this: monocentric types
of socialisation strategy are clearly less
popular with today's ravers
because...they do not go much for cohesive
melodic statements and seem to
eschew, both musically and socially, big figures.
On the other hand, rave
music contains plenty of small figures
constituting plenty of ground,
plenty of "environment." (Tagg 218).

It is not only the music which refuses the
performer/audience/star
structure. On the dance floor "the mastering gaze
has disappeared. For
this reason, dancing to show off ha s gone, even
though a communal
adoration occur s because people pile onto the
stage or anything else
that is raised above the crowd" (Rietveld 63).
The raver does not dance
for any external display. Instead, the aim of the
dance could be
identified in a new interpretation of Foucault's
"Omnes et Singulatum,"
in that one becomes all, or rather the
distinction between one and all
disappears. It is a dance for the self, in that
it is a dance to lose the
self. But it is also a communal loss--a loss of
self that occurs in the
setting of the rave. This is part of a change in
concepts of identity: a
decentering of the subject in which identity, at
least during the rave
(one would be hard pressed to argue that ravers
can successfully carry
this into all aspects of life), is changed from
the Cartesian "I think,
therefore I am," to a communal subjectivity.

Rephrasing the Cartesian formula, the ravers self
could perhaps find
expression in the statement "we dance, therefore,
we are." In dancing to
lose the self, ravers achieve a kind of
liberation in an escape from
identity, and in reaching " a place where nobody
is, but everybody
belongs" (Melechi 37). This is not a clear cut
issue. In the analytic
terms available to us, the loss of individual
self in the communal dance
becomes a somewhat ambiguous event. Is this
simply escape from the every
day, an avoidance of the "real world?" What does
it mean to lose oneself?
The combination of music, the communal dance, and
(for some) the use of
Ecstasy, results in something which is, for most,
undefinable. Ravers
talk about a "vibe," but when asked about exactly
what happens on the
dance floor, they are faced with a failure of
language, an attempt to
describe the indescribable. Rather, they give
descriptions such as "it
was wild," "absolutely unbelievable, there wasn't
anything like it,"
or "this is not dancing, this is a religion"
(Rietveld 63). Perhaps the
effect would best be compared to the religious
ecstasy some groups claim
to reach when communing with god. The loss of
self, and the inability to
describe the experience (how can I properly
describe an event at which I
was not strictly present?) suggest a complete
refusal of discourse and of
knowledge that is constituted in and by language
(Rietveld 65).

One effect of Ecstasy is to decenter sexuality
and libidinal pleasure,
disrupting Freudian concepts of the self and the
centering of sexuality
in the genitals. "E cstacy made the user return
to a pre-Oedipal
stage ...where sexuality is polymorphous and
where sensuality engages the
entire body" (Rietveld 54). There also occurs in
the dance a unification
of the self, a coming together of mind and body,
a state of delirium
which is "non-subjective and smooth, as
all...connections and
functions...give way to simple intensities of
feeling" (Jordan 130).. In
Freudian terms, what occurs is a unity between
the Id and the Ego, and a
unification of these with the sensuality of the
body and the intensity of
the moment of dance (Maxwell).

Through rejection of the individual/subjective
self, the practice of
raving puts itself outside of the official
discourses. It becomes a
practice which is impossible to know, and
impossible to even properly
designate as "other." It refuses categorization
because it is an
experience which cannot be described by anything
other than the act
itself. The raver "surrenders to the void in a
Dionysian hedonism of an
entirely internal satisfaction of desire through
the sacrifice of the
self to the dance" (Stanley 107). It refuses a
label of simple deviancy
because "it is not a desire to demonstrate
deviancy but merely to attain
a knowledge at the limit of experience" (Stanley
108). Excitement, not
deviance, is sought, and excitement comes through
the dance, the loss of
self, and the refusal of the knowing gaze.


So how can this be considered a political
statement, or even a statement
of resistance? It is at this point that we can
return to the earlier
discussion of space, boundaries, and power. The
rejection of a certain
notion of subjectivity, the negotiation of
alternative spaces (I would
not really say they are "won," as the warehouse
or field is never a
permanent hold--rather the space is used and then
the parties move on)
are powerful forms of resistance in that they
reject the very possibility
of being incorporated into the realm of
governmentality as we know it. In
this sense, raving meets Foucault's criteria for
a meaningful political
action: it refuses the basis upon which the
system is built, rather than
working within it. "Those who resist or rebel
against a form of power
cannot merely be content to denounce violence or
criticise an
institution. Nor is it enough to cast the blame
on reason in general.
What has to be questioned is the form of
rationality at stake"
(Foucault, "Omnes" 254).

The event/space of raving facilitates the
emergence of alternative
values, such as those escribed above. The
narratives of dissensus as a
narrative of opposition and the spatial form
which contains and enables
these narratives to become significant texts of
the everyday attaching to
alternative configurations of meaning and reality
become a significant
realization in the formulation of nonrepressive,
antirhetorical,
antihegemonic formulations of power and identity
in the form of an ethics
of viral communication. (Stanley 99).

These narratives are powerful because they reject
determinacy and/or
stability. The spaces in which raving takes place
cannot be entirely
known or controlled in any way except the
general--as warehouses, or
fields. The nomadic nature of the event, caused
in part by the law itself
in its attempt to control raving through making
it illegal, means that
the kind of power which needs to know and control
in detail may never be
exerted over the rave. This evasion is made
possible by constant speed
and movement, which are made evident in three
ways. Firstly, they are
manifested in the organization and communication
networks of the culture.
Events drawing together thousands of people can
be organized, and
advertised solely by word of mouth in a matter of
days (Maylon, "Raving"
12). Secondly, people often travel to raves in
convoys, sometimes with
several hundred cars, causing confusion and
making it impossible for the
police to stop them. Lastly, the dance itself is
caught up in movement
and desire. Control is rejected, as " s peed and
movement ensure that the
self is no longer (nor can be) subject to an
external gaze and that there
is only the giddy neutralisation of self-space in
a dissolution of
boundaries" (Stanley 114).

It is within the space opened up by this movement
that dissent and
resistance can be expressed. However, it is the
difficulty of
characterizing raving as an event of solely
dissent or resistance—the
ambiguities involved in the practice--that lead
to the real undermining
of control. If it was a practice that were more
easily known, more
obviously and straightforwardly resistant, its
challenge could be met
and known. The denial of such knowledge, or of
the ability to place
raving solidly into an us/them dichotomy, poses a
far greater challenge
to modern systems of power. This is not to deny
the necessity of
political activism, but rather to call for the
category of the political
to be broadened, to assert that politics and fun
can go hand in hand, and
that the scope of meaningful action can be far
more inclusive than simply
challenging capital, because, in the end, capital
is not the only problem
in our society.

The politics and actions of youth culture may not
be perfect, but this
should not lead to its their dismissal as
inadequate forms of protest. If
anything, rave culture may prove to be one of the
most dynamic political
movements of recent years.

Added material.
FOOTNOTES1 Despite going global since its
beginnings in Ibiza and
Manchester, the majority of the somewhat limited
literature on rave
refers specifically to the British rave scene.
This article, then,
concentrates on the rave scene in its British
context. However, while the
discussion of the political/social climate is
entirely British in
context, I would tentatively propose that the
wider implications of rave
culture discussed in this essay may very well be
relevant for the rave
culture as a global phenomena.
2 The central texts from this body of work are
Cohen's Folk Devils and
Moral Panics (1972), Hebdige's Subculture: the
Meaning of Style (1979),
and the collection Resistance Through Rituals
(1976), edited by Stuart
Hall and Tony Jefferson.
3 The terms "postmodern" and "postmodernist" are
blankets which attempt
to cover a vast number of widely varied and often
unrelated or directly
opposed theories. Nevertheless, the word will
continue to be used, as
will this acknowledgment of the complexities
involved in its use which,
paradoxically, allows me to use it.
4 House music is a particular style of techno,
employing 4-4 beats, and
often utilizing vocal samples and keyboard
effects for a more organic
feel than techno, which relies more on computer
generated sounds.
5 I have been involved in rave culture for nearly
two years, during which
time I have met many people who partake fully in
the culture while
avoiding the drugs. However, see also Merchant
and Macdonald 20-21.
6 Found in, respectively, the Manchester Evening
News, on May 13, 1991,
on the front page, and The Sun, on November 24,
1988.
7 See in particular Cohen's Folk Devils and Moral
Panics.
8 The academic is, of course, also implicated in
the interplay of power
and knowledge, perhaps in an even more "pure"
form than any of the other
discourses involved. This is not necessarily a
bad thing, however. For
Foucault, all claims to knowledge involve power,
and vice-versa
(Foucault, Power/Knowledge 85). This does not
mean that we should not
strive for knowledge, but rather that we should
incorporate awareness of
what it is we are doing into the project.
9 See Max Weber's The Protestant Ethic and the
Spirit of Capitalism.
10 Again, as with postmodernism, the term
"society" in this context
oversimplifies a complex notion, and a complex
relationship between rave
and other discourses, and results in the kind of
self/other dichotomy I
would rather avoid. However, within this context,
"society" or "the
social" seems to be the most appropriate term
when rave is constructed
as "anti-social" and thus "anti-society.".
11 Rave values could also be seen as critical of
wider social values.
However, my evidence is almost exclusively
British, and I will thus
restrict my argument to Britain.
12 " P ower relations are rooted deep in the
social nexus, not
reconstituted 'above society as a supplementary
structure whose radical
effacement one could perhaps dream of. In any
case, to live in a society
is to live in such a way that action upon other
actions is possible--and
in fact ongoing. A society without power
relations can only be an
abstraction.... T o say that there cannot be a
society without power
relations is not to say either that those which
are established are
necessary, or, in any case, that power
constitutes a fatality at the
heart of societies, such that is cannot be
undermined. Instead I would
say that the analysis, elaboration, and bringing
into question of power
relations and the 'agonism between power
relations and the intransitivity
of freedom is a permanent political task inherent
in all social
existence" (Foucault "Subject and Power" 222-23).
13 Referring to all music played at raves as
techno is highly simplistic,
the equivalent of calling all pre-20th century
music "classical."
However, techno is the term which has made its
way into the mainstream as
a blanket for the kind of music played at raves,
and as such is the most
apt single term under which to refer to this kind
of dance music.
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"Better than Well." Economist 6 Apr. 1996: 91-92.
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Creation of the Mods
and Rockers. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1980.
D'Angelo, Ed. "The Moral Culture of Drug
Prohibition." Humanist Sept.-
Oct. 1994: 3-7.
Foley, Conor. "Virtual Protest." New Statesman 18
Nov. 1994: 47-48.
Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The
Birth of the Prison. New
York: Pantheon, 1977.
Foucault, Michel. The Foucault Reader. Ed. Paul
Rabinow. New York:
Pantheon, 1984.
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