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4 minute read
AFTER HOURS IN A POST-INDUSTRIAL CITY
by Eurovisie
Arianne Zajac
What is a threshold? A certain level of intensity or magnitude that must be exceeded to create a certain reaction, phenomenon, result, or condition. Also known as liminality, a state of transition from one stage to the next. Liminality can exist in many forms, be it the physical existence of a hallway, our coming of age, or a political transition. Within this existence, however, feelings of ambiguity and disorientation emerge. We are all so familiar with our old selves or our old home, yet to cross the threshold we must face up to our new states of being.
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The existence of underground dance music, and the culture that pervades it, is inherently liminal. Historically the development of dance music emerged from minority groups; black, queer, and latinx. In these spaces those that were rejected by society had a place of true expression and acceptance. The impact of these origins means that specific scenes and subcultures emerged. These are dependent on people coming together with shared cultures, values, lifestyles, and leisure time. These scenes are often anti-establishment and characterised by excess, exaggeration, and aversion to banality. Often portrayed or interpreted as a moment to escape and experience relief from the hard realities of everyday life. This creates a liminality because people are able to explore their multiplicitous selves. They can forge their own identities while forgetting about others.
It is therefore not surprising that values, such as equality, freedom, self-expression, and liberation, are synonymous with nightlife. While most people would recognise that dance music and night time activities retain these core aspects, there has been significant change in the nature of after-dark revelry over the last twenty years. This change has been nowhere more pronounced than in the post-industrial cities, that are looking to reinvent and develop themselves, as to boost jobs, the economy, and public mood. As night-life began to be viewed as culturally valuable, its lucrativeness also increased, and it became a concern of city councils and governments to develop.
While the origins of dance music were bottom-up processes and often involved grassroots movements, constructing their own communities. The building of the night-time economy has been an intentional top-down process, significantly considered in urban planning. A consequence of this development has been the institutionalisation of dance music and its party culture. Commercialised profit driven artists and genres have developed, such as EDM, that stand in stark contrast to the underground dance music scene, which positions itself within a certain niche.
An increasing role of the city centre has emerged in parallel with february | eurovisie | page 13
the incorporation of the nighttime economy. City centres have always been contested spaces, bringing people in from different social backgrounds all wanting to lay claim to the publicly shared area. However, the city centre, perhaps once considered an area of production, is now an area of consumption. Leisure venues, bars, pubs, clubs all compete for similar crowds, forcing various groups to come into more and more contact with each other. Increasingly cheap drink deals are offered to hold business in the area. While traditional working-class symbols, such as industry and working men’s clubs, are replaced by a hedonistic, commercial, and capitalistic ethos. In contrast to the commercialised nightlife, the underground scene prefers to be sought out. Many involved often struggle with the fear of crowding out events (becoming so profit-orientated that is pushes people out who are present simply for enjoyment) but, in turn, face the challenge of funding these events. Underground music, therefore, finds its space at the edge; the threshold of the city. In old industrial areas, the spaces are inherently liminal. A familiar staple of a city skyline but also a representation of what no longer exists, the old heartbeats of cities elicit feelings of discomfort, as their future remains uncertain. It is within these crevices and cracks of the city, that those engaging in the pursuit of a subculture exist. The underground music scene becomes a glue patching up disused areas into their new identities, all the while remaining anachronistic. venues that might not have institutional backing from councils and other organisations. However, a natural dissonance between those creating and those dictating night-time culture emerges. Underground events and spaces have an inherent exclusivity, as members seek to build a community in their own identity and own space, away from popular culture.
The beauty of liminality is that it is not static. It is a moment of change. Albeit, that not all change is favourable. The expansion of city centres has brought private development and new housing to areas once void of an aboding population. While party-goers bring their footfall to lesser-known spaces, it also brings a spotlight, much of which is gentrification. It feels like an almost inevitable cycle. Nevertheless, liminality learns to adapt, new avenues are open to us. The impact of social media has created a whole new space for us to interact with the world, of which we do not fully know the consequences. Is it simply amplifying our prevailing popular culture and boosting the mainstream night time economy? Or has it allowed those in the underground to connect all over the world, thus strengthening their communities? It is only once we cross the threshold that we will understand the full meaning of these spaces.
While the institutionalisation of the night-time economy has had many benefits, such as creating social cohesion and inclusion, developing the creative industries, and recognising the value of dance music. It also tends to benefit larger clubs, be more profit-driven and business-orientated, while overlooking page 14 | eurovisie | february