Techno on the Brain

First times are always the best. The experiences are so foreign and fresh that they are invigorating. Experience is always great: you have more knowledge of the situation and can take a more intimate view on the situation, constantly learning more than you knew. But at the same time, when something is so strange, you almost feel as if there was a belonging. When you find that right thing it feels oh so right. And no, I am not indeed speaking of losing my virginity, at least not in the literal sense. I'm talking about life changing at the flick of a switch. We as humans have these moments quite consistently in our lives. I was 15 when I first went to Warped Tour. There, I learned that I wasn't so strange after all and that, even if you were not exactly like everyone else, it was still OK. My first day of high school, at the tender age of 13, I finally began to understand that some discomfort was necessary in life. At 17, I received my license and was taught the true meaning of the beginning of freedom. When I was 18, I started to enjoy life and be Jim Carey's "Yes Man". Last night was yet another change in movement. I am aging only in experience, not in years. I am one of the lucky few.

A rave is a strange thing. You never know what to expect. It could either be the bump and grind of a hip-hop flooded dance floor or the ball-sweat stench in a hazy underground room. The latter was the only that happened to be slightly true. By time 2 AM drove on through the room was indeed thick with stage smoke and a sharp hamster cage scent. While that was true of most of the music gigs I had been to, this wasn't exactly the same situation. Walking into The Warehouse deep in the spires of Hartford, I debated leaving almost instantly. The room was pressed in awkward eye shifting and shuffling. Only a few diehards were already at when the 9 PM role call hit. Disembodied glowsticks jived and thrashed in the dark. Only when the strobe lights and lasers sparkled did it become apparant that there were people attached to the shining green and blue viles, faces lit in the already building fog. Characters straight out of Dance Dance Revolution and the Neon East district from The Urbz: Sims in the City flocked from the three rooms (each dedicated to different Techno styles). Beaded bracelets were in style and so were fur rimmed high heals. It was almost as if this were no longer a small American City, but a futuristic Techno hub in Japan. Or maybe Mars. There were flashing pacifiers, fingertip lights, knitted cat ears, neon war paints, and an amazing abundance of Jolly Rancher lollipops (whoever knew there was such a candy that is, by the way, fantastically tasteful). Being one of the few not rolling on Ecstacy, I found no need for many of those things, but instead found it all entertaining and grand, taking in every moment like it was the last time I would ever get to see a glowing object.

As the main room began to fill more and more with enthusiastic dancers (but not to the point of suffocation) I allowed myself to unwind. For once, I wasn't the pretentious nay-sayer I always seemed to find myself being. For once, I danced and didn't feel like a fool. I had no clue who any of the DJ's were. The rest of the crowd, on the other hand, seemed to know the acts very well. This was obviously a culture of its own. Ravers knew when to stop and start dancing, what moves to use, how to make a "rave circle-pit", the words (though sparse) to the remixes, how to dress, everything. I almost felt out of the loop or more so, like I had been missing out on something important, life changing even. And after I confirmed these feelings in the pit of my stomache, I finally let loose. And before I knew it, it was time to think about heading back to my Connecticut hills, the night not being even close to ending. This was when I discovered that it was another one of those moments. I let go of all my convictions and defunct personality and found that this was really what life was about. It was about not always being serious, it was about taking those moments and making them intro a string of events that in turn, creates your existence. As Cormac McCarthy said, "...Your life is made out of the days it’s made out of. Nothin else." I thank Cormac McCarthy and I thank Pendulum because without that I would have never realized that this should be what my life is made out of.