Introduction/abstract
From Drexciya to David Guetta, from Paradise Garage to Tomorrowland — dance music has a tendency to be rooted in fiction and narrative, where the imaginary and the real play a symbiotic, equal role. A feedback loop of sound and meaning, reverberating through the communal body, conjures fictional worlds that accompany club nights, festivals, releases, and many other aspects of electronic music as a whole. It turns and tumbles.
This circular motion is what pulled me in, the year being 2017.(+) I was 17 when I had my first “real” clubbing experience, only visiting smaller local venues and parties before that time. It was a rather dull night in Tallinn, somewhere in early March. I had just come from a birthday of my friend whose name, funnily enough, also has a gist of fiction - an ancient Egyptian deity of the sun called Ra. The gathering was winding down in the small hours of the night, and a group of people decided to give the quite recently opened club called Hall a try. It was an astonishing occurrence, a never-before-seen thing in the city of Tallinn—a huge club with implemented face control, multiple floors, (very) lengthy opening times which would turn into extended afterhours and in general, It is a venue that could very easily take up a spot in the “Stay Away” category in my parent's book. Being too young to enter, I procured my older friend to borrow his volunteer armband, and somehow acted convincingly enough that the towering bouncers waved me in. Heart rate in the 140 BPM range, I made my way up the stairs. Tight and sweaty red corridor, dusty, low stature. This soon got exchanged with a room of incomprehensible proportions — the overreaching darkness, making it impossible to see the ceiling left me in awe, accompanied by the communal body of 300 or more people, conjuring a sea of movement. The light and haze, so urgently flashing and allowing to see just enough to move a few feet at a time, created a plateau where imagination can run free, while still being guided by a figure that is the club space itself. My brain was running rampant with various thoughts, but one stuck out to me the most. A statement, or rather even an inquiry, that kept repeating itself over and over again, chasing the perfect loop as it is prevalent in the music playing: “This is not real”. Yet my senses were sharp, and bodily functions were still confidently providing an affirmation that I have not lost myself in some non-existing world. While being caught in a limbo of a dueling dialogue, between the feelings of hyperreality and undeniable physical presence, I couldn’t help but ponder on this fleeting thought. What is the essence of this experience? Why does it feel this way? What is there to take away from this? Fast forward 7 years, I am here, writing this. In those years, I have been an active participant in the "scene” surrounding electronic music. Now, I am referring back to where it all started, this feeling of hyperreality, a sense of traveling without arriving. New questions have risen, more precisely concerning the cultural dimensions of the genre, particularly the role of fictional narratives in shaping the perceptions within the broader electronic music culture.
The central question guiding my research is: How are fictional narratives utilized in electronic music, and how has this utilization changed in time? To explore this question, I use a mixed-methods approach that combines analysis of electronic music history and narratives with personal findings and observations, implicating how clubbing and partaking in the culture itself can serve as a method for research. By looking at literature concerning the genre, analyzing and examining aspects such as album artwork, events and music within, and applying ideas of existing cultural theory to the topic I aim to uncover why fictional narratives manifest within electronic music, change in time, and in turn, shape the culture around it. Additionally, personal observations and experiences will provide valuable insights into the more active role and impact on community identity and participation.
Tracing the History of Fiction and Reality in Dance Music
Electronic music is a wide spectrum. For the sake of and clarity of my own research, it is imperative to create a framework for further reference, specifically on the terms of the music written about, and what I specifically consider fiction or the imaginary.
I will not be talking about electronic dance music as just an overreaching genre which employs electronic musical instruments, digital instruments, or circuitry-based technology in its creation — I am dealing with specifically electronic music that is created with an intent to be danced to, experienced in the space of a nightclub, rave, festival – and is generally produced for playback by DJ-s that are narrating the musical experience of the night itself. Of course, electronic dance music is in essence a category reaching back to the 60s and 70s with artists such as Kraftwerk and Silver Apples, but I am choosing to focus on the electronic dance music onwards from the creation of genres such as house and techno, which got its starting point in the late 80s, and propelled EDM(+) I honestly despise the term EDM. Even though it quite literally stands for Electronic Dance Music, it has been watered down and connotated with some dude-bro-candy-raver stature prevalent in contemporary American music festivals. Why do all good things have to turn bad? as we know it into a broader, worldwide notoriety.
Now as for fiction and fictional narratives — what I consider to precede fiction (and being interchangeable with it) is imagination, and therefore I would like to inform the reader on what kind of definition of imaginary I will be working with. In commonsense English, the term imaginary is a conception that is a conscious mental image — stemming from Jacques Lacan. ’The imaginary’ is Lacan's term for an internal, introspective representation of the visual world, in which the construction of the self as subject is initiated. 1 I would denounce that, and instead shift my focus on Édouard Glissant, whose definition of the imaginary I find more appealing and wider-reaching than the oftentimes limiting language of Lacan. For Glissant, the imaginary is aIl the ways a culture has of perceiving and conceiving of the world. 2 Hence, every human culture will have its own particular imaginary. This differentiation is useful, as the imaginaries and fictional aspects of different cultures are as worth noting, indeed, different — structured by upbringing, collective experiences and memory. This is to bring to light the fact that the imaginary lexicon and frame of culture surrounding dance music, is something that stands out from the broader cultural landscape.(+) This is something I have personally noticed quite early on since being involved in the culture so called. I honestly (and regrettably) was quite a right-leaning person politically in my younger years, up til the point when I got more involved with electronic music and its frame of mind. Through partying and talking to people I had many points of realization which led to conclusion of “wow, you can actually think about convictions and beliefs in a completely different way”. This concerns gender norms, goals, religious views, and any other topic that can stir up a storm at an otherwise friendly family dinner. In the context of the genre, the imaginary and fictional emerges as distinctive and multifaceted, reflecting the collective experiences, memories, and aspirations of its participants.
Beginnings
As electronic dance music in its essential form has more prevalence in Europe than in any other part of the world (Klancnik, 2019) I would like to pivot the attention away from the current epicentre and focus on the beginnings of contemporary “Techno” or “EDM” as we know it. Its origins lay in the community of Detroit, playing a very important role in African American history — created out of a response to the urban decay that was affecting Detroit and other various cities around the United States in the late 1980s, Techno as a genre is evidence of a post-civil rights movement youth of color, creating a space for themselves in the more industrialized northern states of the US. (Brown, 2020)
Detroit techno was born just as Motor City began to die. (Fig 1) This music was a creation of intellect, a contemporary methodology of Black expression that transformed the African American musical heritage into a modernized, technologically advanced and optimized form of soul music, that was innately rooted in resistance, futuristic fiction, and an uphill fight against oppression. (Brown, 2020)
As for the term itself, "Techno" with its beginnings rooted in the complexities of societal shifts, captures the essence of a genre born from the need to navigate an era marked by the deindustrialization of North American cities and technological evolution. British author Simon Reynolds’ account traces the word's emergence to 1980s Germany, gaining prominence in 1988 with the release of the compilation "Techno! The New Dance Sound of Detroit" (Fig 2) linking it specifically to the electronic dance music emerging from Detroit at the time. (Reynolds, 1998)
However, the origin story takes a different outlook when we look to Juan Atkins, a part of the world-renowned Underground Resistance collective.(+) Detroit techno collective founded in 1990, renowned for their heavy-use of fiction, and militant political, anti-corporate ethos. I remember first stumbling upon their work while browsing YouTube in the late hours of the night while procrastinating my math homework for the next day. Oh how nice were the easier days of high school. The track was Maurizio - Ploy (UR mix) (Fig 4), an astonishing 11 minute techno track that starts off with an orchestral, semi-ambient arrangement that gets interrupted by vocal samples of “eh” and shuffling hi-hats, and before you notice it a sureway ascension in energy drifts along. A hypnotic drive into the deepest parts of any dispersed constellation of your choice. Quite an achievement I must admit, taking Maurizio's track and transforming into an epic Detroit techno classic, which walks a very fine line between soulful and moving, dance floor friendly while retaining that totally outer worldly, intergalactic feel Underground Resistance could deliver back in the day. (Fig 3) Atkins encountered the term "Techno" in Alvin Toffler's book "The Third Wave" (1980), a sequel to Toffler's influential work "Future Shock" (1979). Toffler's exploration delved into the mental states of societies grappling with the repercussions of rapid change within a short timeframe. Atkins, influenced by Toffler's conceptualization of societal shifts, seized the term as a fitting description for the emerging electronic sound. (Brown, 2020)
This connection between the term "Techno" and futuristic thinking is not merely linguistic; it signifies a shift in how people perceived and interacted with music. The artistry of Techno characterized an idealized outcome for the future, while also offering a critique of the contemporary American urban life exemplified in manufacturing cities as the aforementioned Detroit. At the heart of the emergence of the subculture were advancements in computer technologies, allowing musicians to challenge the norms of traditional music genres. This contrasted sharply with the beliefs of contemporary theorists (Edelman, 1995), who predicted that technological progress would supplant art; instead, the technological evolution became a stand-alone, living and compelling art form in its own right.
The societal anxiety and uncertainty stemming from deindustrialization and the surge in technological progress created a demand for a musical form that mirrored the systematic, technological nature of the changes taking place. "Techno" not only became a genre label but also a symbol of the profound impact of societal and cultural shifts on artistic expression, providing a sonic landscape that both reflected and responded to the challenges and opportunities presented by the evolving material reality.
This conditioning is the sole base of origin to the EDM subculture. Most accounts situate it as a dissident group whose subcultural values were inherent to resistance, and against the more streamlined and capitalistic culture of the very American, achievement based mindset. From here, I would start to consider the meaning of subculture to change into a counter-culture, as the direct opposition to the higher powers of political status quo. While EDM was on its uprise, so was the war on drugs, unemployment rates, white flight and laws whose sole intent was to restrict. While success was being determined by economic gain, EDM embraced a culture of hedonism and excess. If the dominant society could be described as dull, meticulously structured, and excessively formal, then the EDM scene can be depicted as vibrant, playful, and disordered—a direct opposition to the prevailing environment, and for these reasons a form of resistance.
Taking into account the rapidly changing situation of daily life, a culture of resistance and the emergence of technologies which gave new ways to produce electronic music, many artists took a bold, experimental and boundary pushing approach to their work. I can not proceed writing this without mentioning Underground Resistance with their militant and strictly anti-corporate ethos, The Belleville Three who created Detroit Techno and paved the way to all and any kinds of dance music we know today, and the Chicago sound pioneers Ron Hardy, Larry Levan and Frankie Knuckles who dedicated their life to preaching house and disco music to the minority and queer people of the Northern states.
For the sake of being constrained, I will have to turn my focus point on the enigmatic and deeply influential electronic worldbuilding duo of Drexciya, consisting of James Stinson and Gerald Donald. But before that, just to provide some intricacy on how fiction manifested itself in the dance music scene in Detroit, I will introduce a label description from Mike Himes' “90s' Guide to the Detroit Underground” Pamphlet, concerning the aforementioned collective of Underground Resistance, which Gerald Donald and James Stintson also happened to be a part of.
“RESISTANCE IS A LABEL FOR A MOVEMENT. A MOVEMENT THAT WANTS CHANGE BY SONIC REVOLUTION. WE URGE YOU TO JOIN THE RESISTANCE AND HELP US TO COMBAT THE MEDIOCRE AUDO AND VISUAL PROGRAMMING THAT IS BEING FED TO THE INHABITANTS OF EARTH, THIS PROGRAMMING IS STAGNATING THE MINDS OF THE PEOPLE: BUILDING A WALL BETWEEN RACES AND PREVENTING WORLD PEACE. IT IS THIS WALL WE ARE GOING TO SMASH. BY USING THE UNTAPPED ENERGY POTENTIAL OF SOUND WE ARE GOING TO DESTROY THIS WALL MUCH THE SAME AS CERTAIN FREQUENCIES SHATTER GLASS. UNDERGROUND IS A MUSIC BASED IN EXPERIMENTATION: IT IS SACRED TO NO ONE RACE; IT HAS NO DEFINITIVE SOUND. IT IS A MUSIC FOR THE FUTURE OF THE HUMAN RACE. WITHOUT THIS MUSIC THERE WILL BE NO PEACE, NO LOVE, NO VISION. BY SIMPLY COMMUNICATING THROUGH SOUND. UNDERGROUND HAS BROUGHT PEOPLE OF ALL DIFFERENT NATIONALITIES TOGETHER UNDER ONE ROOF TO ENJOY THEMSELVES. ISN'T IT OBVIOUS THAT MUSIC AND DANCE ARE THE KEYS TO THE UNIVERSE? SO CALLED PRIMITIVE ANIMALS AND TRIBAL HUMANS HAVE KNOWN THIS FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS! WE URGE ALL BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF THE UNDERGROUND TO CREATE AND TRANSMIT THEIR TONES AND FREQUENCIES NO MATTER HOW SO CALLED "PRIMITIVE" THEIR EQUIPMENT MAY BE. TRANSMIT THESE TONES AND WREAK HAVOC ON THE PROGRAMERS! LONG LIVE THE UNDERGROUND….” (Sic)
Case Study: Drexciya
To provide context and background before we dive in to the Drexciyan depths, I wish to give quotes from Alvin Toffler and James Stinson to illustrate the frame in which they operated. These two writings convey very precisely the overarching ideology to the Drexciyan myth.
“The push into the depths of the sea provides us with a miror image of the drive into outer space, and lays the basis for the third cluster of the new techno-sphere. The first historic wave of social change on earth came when our ancestor ceased to rely on foraging and hunting, and began instead to domesticate animals and cultivate the soil. We are now precisely at this stage in our relationship to the seas” - Alvin Toffler, The Third Wave. 1980
“The inspiration for the underwater world came from deep inside my mind. God gave me this vision and I’m building up on it bringing it to life of the whole world to see…. Water is life. Life started on this planet and other planets due to water. It is the cutting edge of creativity and innovation. You have billions of different species in the seas, oceans, lakes, ponds and streams across the world. Millions of species still have not been discovered by man so is that the cutting edge of creativity or what? We approach our music the same way…” – James Stinson
And now, to give an overview of the Drexciyan myth itself, here is the first mention of the Drexciyan Mythology, explained in the liner notes of their release titled “The Quest” (1997) (Fig 5)
“Could it be possible for humans to breath underwater? A foetus in
its mothers womb is certainly alive in an aquatic environment.
During the greatest holocaust the world has ever known, pregnant
America-bound African slaves were thrown overboard by the thousands
during labour for being sick and disruptive cargo. Is it possible
that they could have given birth at sea to babies that never needed
air?
Recent experiments have shown mice able to breathe
liquid oxygen. Even more shocking and conclusive was a recent
instance of a premature infant saved from certain death by breathing
liquid oxygen through its undeveloped lungs. These facts combined
with reported sightings of Gillmen and swamp monsters in the coastal
swamps of the South-Eastern United States make the slave trade
theory startlingly feasible.
Are Drexciyans water
breathing, aquatically mutated descendants of those unfortunate
victims of human greed? have they been spared by God to teach us or
terrorise us? Did they migrate from the Gulf of Mexico to the
Mississippi river basin and on to the great lakes of Michigan?
Do they walk among us? Are they more advanced than us
and why do they make their strange music?
What is their
Quest?
These are many of the questions that you don’t
know and never will.
The end of one thing...and the
beginning of another.
Out - The Unknown Writer”
This is Drexciya (Fig 6). A Detroit techno-electro duo, first conceived in 1989. Drexciya's James Stinson and Gerald Donald stayed hidden behind their alias for much of their active existence, developing a complex personal mythology of a "Drexciyan" race of underwater humans. This was one of Drexciyas most powerful ways of creating fiction — by being so hidden away from anything that could be considered publicity. (Stinson rarely if ever granted interviews, and his partner Donald went even further, maintaining an exceptionally low public profile that fellow Detroit artist Daniel Bell described as "very surreal.”)
They left their actions in the shadows: The listener does not solve the mystery, nor does he crack the codes. They only pass it on - leaving space to project a plethora of desires and fiction onto them, imbuing the myth deeply into the mind of the listener. Being a fan of Drexciya, the listener is actively partaking in the creation of the narrative by creating their own meanings and connections in the gaps left unfilled. Within this fictional world, their music - was imagined as an dimensional portal between their black roots and the contemporary life in the United States.
Their unapologetically political and urgent approach of “Total Concept” as James Stinson called it, is a meticulously engineered and designed schematic of a world of operation, where every detail and image is a part of a larger system of fiction. A toolbox of the imaginary, fuelled by their culture, and their own perception of their surroundings. Writer Greg Tate (2007) describes their imaginary as a reinterpretation of the Middle Passage, viewing it as a space of possibility, rather than destruction.
This world has ignited the creativity of numerous artists, writers, and filmmakers such as Kodwo Eshun, Dominique White, Andrea Chung, Gosub, Aphex Twin and many more - giving rise to a diverse range of speculative narrations and explorations that extend wide beyond the electronic music community. Yet, the influence of Drexciya on specifically electronic music is in my opinion, unparalleled — creating an everlasting impact of how musical artistry and myth can be in such eloquent dialogue. When Underground Resistance was taking inspiration from Space, Drexciya went underwater. When Underground Resistance introduced a political subconscious to the dancefloor, Drexciya added a reminder of slavery, the original sin of America. (Fig 7)
Their last album was Grava 4. (Fig 8) Released in 2002, which was also the last year Drexciya produced music, as James Stinson sadly passed away. With the release of their last album, Drexciya left not only a theoretical and fictional mark on the world, but a very real, tangible trace in the solar system. In fact, they purchased a star, and named it Grava 4, creating the last link in their mythology, rooting their imaginary in a real, existing place. As noted by Afrofuturist Kodwo Ashun: “Drexciya granted themselves the imperial right to nominate and colonize interstellar space” — their fiction thus was a weapon, and in time became real.
From the deep seas, to the wider cosmos, the Drexciyan myth came to a bittersweet end. This end left behind a legacy. What Hegel described as “Zeitgeist”, “spirit of the age”, “daemon” or in general, and invisible agent that defines the characteristics of a given time in history, is exactly what Drexciya achieved. Paving a way for their peers and future generations to approach their craft in electronic music as something way bigger than just hedonistic excess and consumption.
This goes to show that fiction and electronic dance music go hand in hand—already from the early days on. Countless releases and events, no matter the specific style, have always had a tinge on something imaginary, something not quite real in their repertoire. Fiction is a tool, and this very tool has been in the hands of the creators of electronica since day zero.
The Spectacular Culture
But what does this tool imply nowadays? Now as we have an outlook on the history of electronic music and an example of one of the most prominent acts and their creative output, we can continue to the more modern implication of fictional narratives in electronic music, or rather, what has been left of them
For this specific task, I will take into account the basis of fictional narratives in electronic dance music as performative acts(+) Having had the experience of being in roles both of the performer and the audience, both roles are in my opinion partaking in a performance, in a form of dialogue and also separately, in a more monological sense. This was noticed by me when while playing music, I realized that my movements are something that I would not ever do in a setting of dancing or listening to a DJ set, and vice versa. A social aspect comes into play too, as both dancers and the performer have an audience of the people surrounding — the club is a spectacle, not only as a singular part, but every partaker becomes a spectacle watched by others in the space. (as electronic dance music is in its essence revolving around consumption of the means, with an audience and a performer) which do inherently differ in context depending on the time and intent. This contextualization and timeline is important, as electronic dance music has gone through a massive transformation from its beginnings to now contemporary times.
I would argue that the most appropriate definition of progress in the electronic dance music culture would be its shift from an underground, obscure subculture into a fully fledged culture industry. By the term culture industry, I mean the idea developed by Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer in their 1947 work "Dialectic of Enlightenment.”, where they proposed that contemporary popular culture is akin to a factory producing standardized cultural goods.
This is important as to argue, how using fictional narratives as resistance techniques by electronic dance music subculturalists would also help shape it into a corporately organized culture industry. Adorno and Rabinbach (1975) had later on pointed out that culture industries rarely create their own products and colonize earlier forms of art for mass audiences instead (this being taking influence from the early days of Detroit techno and fiction). As EDM subculture moved toward becoming a culture industry the minor semblances of fictional narrative used as resistance that made it once attractive became what Horkheimer and Adorno (1944/1969) referred to as pseudo-individualization—which are the superficial features that provide consumers with an ‘authentic’ experience.
As to what Is an ‘authentic’ experience in the electronic music adjacent territories is hard to argue without falling into pitfalls of nostalgia and somber “old-headery”, for the lack of the better term. But as my practice and my personal taste in graphic design and electronic music is very deeply influenced by this nostalgia, I will deliberately take this fall headfirst, and to stay on the line with my research, I will consider the authentic experience of fiction as something rooted in resistance and intent, rather than something purely of excess and profit.
Now, to make it short — to directly contrast the approach of Drexciya while seeing how their methodology and inspiration of using fiction as resistance has changed in contemporary times, I believe we have to be global and urgent, almost too straightforward. To make it very obvious, there is no better fictional gathering or concept that showcases what I consider the rotten apple of EDM culture better than the Belgian festival called “Tomorrowland”
The Land of Tomorrow
Tomorrowland (Fig 9) is one of the most well-known electronic dance music festivals in the world, held at De Schorre public recreational park in Boom, Belgium. Attended by close to 500 thousand people, and includes a yearly, fictional thematic from the year 2011 onwards. The previous themes have been: “Masker”, “The Story of Planaxis”, “The Tree of Life” and my personal favorite, “The Book of Wisdom: The Return”. (Fig 10)
As to why I consider Tomorrowland important enough for a comparison with Drexciya, is the sole reason that Tomorrowland checks two very important boxes: One: It being based on fiction and myth, similar to the method of Drexciya, and two: It is a direct continuation, yet contrast to the initial wave of the rave revolution of the early 90s.
Approximately twenty years after the inception of Drexciya, a new commercialized form of dance music emerged globally, gaining significant traction among millennials. Joshua Erenstein, a co-founder of the LEDM (Your Link to Electronic Dance Music) group, told Forbes in 2014:
“Electronic Dance Music provides a new sound, a fresh energy, and a clean space that needed the attention of the youth generation in order to bring it to prominence”
Erenstein suggested that millennials, raised amidst the era of social media, live completely online, where electronic music could flourish as contagious content, disconnected from its origins in Detroit and the historical lineage of British hardcore continuum.
The observation is intriguing because the direct correlation between the fantastical realm of Tomorrowland and earlier forms of electronic music remains uncertain: while technological advancements and media saturation blur preceding contexts, there persists a connection through the overarching structure and consumption of the music, alongside the influence of fictional narratives.
To see how Tomorrowland uses fiction, one does not need to seek far and wide — it has even been considered as the “Disneyland of music festivals”. Their imaginary is mainly based off of medieval-tinged narratives, most often used to sell products and tickets related to the event, and to use fantastical aesthetics as decoration and spectacle for their festival. From books with titles such as “The Rise of Adscendo” (Fig 11) which give insight to the tale of Tomorrowland, to concept art of the logos and various fictional elements that are related to their imaginary. None of it really serves a purpose of intent, but rather is optimized to fit a relatively unoffensive and safe narrative of “The positive energy the festival stands for”
If Drexciya used fiction as a tool for social and political resistance, reacting against oppressive systems they witnessed, then it could be argued that Tomorrowland utilizes fiction as a general disavowal of reality for profit, stemming from the soaring financial growth in speculative digital economies and the euphoric, hedonistic escapism of the new content industrialization of electronic dance music. The global spread of electronic music sparked an imagined collective utopia, which was eventually commodified and diluted, assimilating into the global music industry and economy, reaching a tipping point and plummeting into the realm of the culture industry.
But this comes as no surprise in the modern age — electronic dance music is not a singular case of commodification and industrialization disconnected from all the other cultural spheres, be it film, theatre, literature or even the beloved graphic design that I myself partake in even more on the daily basis than electronic music. This shift is brought upon by the capitalist creation of new psychological needs and wants, which sadly, can only be met and satisfied by the products of capitalism itself. A vicious cycle. Yet again, it turns and tumbles.
Conclusion: Destination Unknown
Where does this circular motion pull us? What future can we envision nowadays? When the originators were writing tracks of Interviews with aliens, joining the future, and fuel for the fire to attend the riot, it can seem that nowadays there is space left only for purely commercial and fabricate-for-gain fictional narratives that serve no one but the profiteer.
But to be honest, this is a hugely defeatist stance.
It would be wrong of me to say that all is lost, there is nothing left and “It’s All Gone Pete Tong”. Fictional narratives in electronic dance music (or in any other creative field) change in time and intent, and to consider their commodification something unbelievable or not natural is a pitfall ridden with pessimism, that I oftentimes take a deep look at, and eventually turn my gaze to the many other projects and artists who are still pushing boundaries, creating work that resonates with the time we live in, and are passionate about the sphere in more ways than just creating spectacle for the sake of monetary sale. .
Where do we go from here? Being in the position that I am in, and having done the research for this thesis, new pathways of knowledge and understanding have opened, which help me to give sense to my beloved sphere of work and practice. With this newfound knowledge, I can only speculate that we have passed a tipping point where a future in the context of the imaginary of electronic music is up to debate, and the old ways of fiction have gone to rest.
While the old is in slumber, PC Music, Year0001, Perlon, Posh Isolation and many more labels and artists in recent years are still creating and paving a way for fiction and concept to flourish in ways not seen before, to contrast the commodified structures of the music industry’s darker side. The imaginary of electronic dance music culture is alive, just in many more ways than before. As it seems, there is simply no need to imagine a future the way it was done before, as the toolbox of imaginary eventually became attractive to outsiders to negate the initial intentions.
With all of this being up for debate, it leaves me excited for future research into this topic. As my practice very often concerns fiction and fantasy, and I consider myself a quite imaginative person, I am fantasizing about a future where within the ongoing commodification of fantasy, there is a possibility of a renaissance for fictional narratives. A new question rises: “How can we detour the fictional narratives and aesthetics of Tomorrowland as a practice of resistance?”
But for now, “Let’s Dream of a Brighter World”. (Fig 12)
I LEFT MY JOB, MY BOSS, MY CAR AND MY HOME,
I’M LEAVIN' FOR A DESTINATION I STILL DON'T KNOW
SOMEWHERE NOBODY MUST HAVE BEAUTIES AT ALL
AND IF YOU LIKE US YOU CAN FOLLOW ME
SO LET'S GO,
FOLLOW ME AND LET'S GO,
TO THE PLACE WHERE WE BELONG
AND LEAVE OUR TROUBLES AT HOME
COME WITH ME, WE CAN GO
TO A PARADISE OF LOVE AND JOY
A DESTINATION UNKNOWN,
Alex Gaudino & Crystal Waters. Destination Calabria
Bibliography and Acknowledgements
Thesis supervised by Dirk Vis
Coding Supervisors Thomas Buxo, Francois Girard-Meunier
Special thanks to:
Bartek, Balazs and Oliver for last minute code fixes,
Andree for letting me use Ladna Sans,
Tanel for good discussions,
and Sara for the mental support.