We wanna go somewhere else. We’re not threatened by people anymore. All our insecurities have evaporated. We’re in the clouds now. We’re wide open. We’re spacemen orbiting the earth. The world looks beautiful from here, man. We’re nympholeptics, desiring for the unobtainable. We risk sanity for moments of temporary enlightenment. So many ideas. So little memory. The last thought killed by anticipation of the next. We embrace an overwhelming feeling of love. We flow in unison. We’re together. I wish this was real. We want a universal level of togetherness, where we’re comfortable with everyone. We’re in rhythm. Part of a movement. A movement to escape. We wave goodbye. Ultimately, we just want to be happy. Heh, yeah, hang on, what the fuck was I just talking about?

Jip, Human Traffic (1999)

Showing posts tagged rave

What our raves won’t be.

What our raves won’t be.

Evacuate or rave? 

Evacuate or rave? 

Human Traffic. Jeremy Factsman. Reach for the lasers. Track is Mantra by Quake.

Every club is different, but in the Asylum it’s the manager. He has a string of homeboys dealing the pucker Es to the party people in the club. He makes the most coin out of this enterprise. His homies will make just a couple of quid on each pucker. His homies are also scoping for other dealers on the block. When the homies have an illegitimate pucker E dealer in their eyesight they tell the bouncers. The bouncers grip him, nab his stash and kick him out with a physical warning. They give the pucker Es to their homies and they sell it on to the kids in the club.

What’s your name?

What have you had?

Reach for the lasers.

Safe as fuck.

The legendary extended version of I Remember. A brilliant colaboration between deadmau5 and Kaskade that features a stunning video with a cameo by Stephen Graham. 

I remember.

I remember when my dad said to me, Oh, you don’t know you’re born.

I promised myself I would never say that. But I like you two, ya’ know. You’re good lads. You’re one of your own.

But you don’t know you’re born.

I mean look around you. There are no jobs, no apprenticeships, no future, nothing. We’re in a recession. The pound note means fuck all unless you get out there and earn it your self.

Most of you just sit back in apathy. And I mean, yeah alright you know, you’ve got your PlayStations and your internet and your mobile phones.

But that’s nothing. That’s just smack for your generation in my eyes.

I mean, you’ve got two choices. You either sit back and let it happen, or you stand up and make your voice be heard.

I mean, look at your history. Your hippies, your punks, your skinheads, northern soul, rockers, acid heads, ravers.

We had a voice.

Where is the voice for your generation?

Now, I. I was a proper raver. Clubs where our churches. It was a religion. We didn’t just sit back and let it happen, know what I mean? 

Carpe diem

Seize the day.

Don’t sit back and let it happen. You get one chance. Take it, grab it. It’s cat and mouse, this game.

You don’t know you’re born.

Let me tell you the ten commandments of being a raver.

  1. You know that old saying? Location, location, location? Well that’s dead right boys.
  2. Gain entry by any means necessary.
  3. Fear nothing. Possession is 910 of the law.
  4. Send the word out to those who believe in it.
  5. It’s not where you are from, it is where you are going.
  6. Reject the mainstream.
  7. Find the best sound system.
  8. The rule is…never fail.
  9. You have to make sure the music is bang on. You can’t have a revolution if the music isn’t right.
  10. It’s your choice. Find your own voice.

So what you up to now boys?

"Find our voice. Things to do ain’t we."

Raveageddon. We’re going. Are you?