Square Pegs In A Round Hole Kind Of World

I had a recent discussion with one of my editors about the amount of personal insertion one should have in their pieces. Depending on the format and subject, the acceptable etiquette may vary, and often more than not do event reviews contain personal anecdotes and visceral reactions. We're both writers and lovers of electronic music, but agree that there is a lack of discipline in writing about it. Club music culture is not like rock n' roll, who quickly adapted the developing necessity for music criticism and journalism from the classical era. A particular comment I made was that, in my opinion, the real bible of electronic music journalism was Mark Prendergast's The Ambient Century: From Mahler to Trance. It's not world-renown, not every techno disciple owns it, and I don't recall a major fuss being made when it was actually published in 2001. It is, however, the most complete and encyclopedic collection of electronic music in one substantially thick book. It's a thorough introduction to anyone that is new and curious towards EDM in general, but also fills in many of the historical gaps for long-time fans that haven't reflected on its many minor details.

Now that the book is nearly 10 years old, there are certain missing elements that have developed over the last decade. The first thing that comes to mind is dubstep, a genre that claims to be anything but that. It's a conglomerate of so many previous club subcultures, such as grime and dancehall in the UK and rave, jungle and even hip-hop in the US. Every dubstep DJ I've ever met has undeniably vast tastes in music, and while everything they spin might be sub-bass heavy and 140bpm, they are drawing from a wide spectrum; from the revolutionary music culture of Jamaica's ragga movement to top40 pop. A respected music writer, Philip Sherburne, recently interviewed Steve Goodman a.k.a. Kode 9, and their conversation touched upon all of this and more.

This sounds unavoidably condescending, but I feel sorry for people who are unable to appreciate electronic music. Growing up in the hardcore/punk culture of Long Island, I honestly don't see a great amount of distance between A and B. The modern techno scenes that I know and love in both Boston and New York are comprised of hard-working, passionate DJs, promoters and music lovers that have really found that niche for themselves. They are often smart, eclectic and have a very strong sense of individuality. Hardcore punk was a home for the lost, changing dramatically over the course over the last 30 years, but at the core it has always been centered around getting to some state of nirvana - be it a mosh pit or a crowded dance floor - and being a square peg in a round hole kind of world.

With all that said, I've been literally between Boston and New York, transitioning slowly as I try to rebuild my life in Brooklyn without enough income to afford an apartment there. It's been easy to long for the family I left behind when Ben Klock comes to town and there aren't thirty close friends coming along. This weekend, I took a chance and went in blind; alone and curious to see how an all-night party would turn out with my own company. I found the same sort of solace that one would find in any alternative culture, and ended up having one of my most memorable New York nights to date. Much of good music is about taking chances, as are investing in promotional/booking collectives for a variety of non-mainstream crews. It's a faithful reminder that life, very similarly, is much about taking chances.