Rave Scout Cookies®



COOKIE MIX SERIES             Rave Safe             Scout Diaries             Industry training            RAVE MART

 ︎       ︎       ︎       ︎








Rave Scout Diaries








             featuring interviews, reviews, and experiences that celebrate the cultural and creative aspects of underground dance music           ︎  




Meet The Cookies #002: Juliana Huxtable and Walt Cassidy


Meet the Cookies #002:

Juliana Huxtable & Walt Cassidy



The nightlife industry has always been a thriving hub for creativity and self-expression. Artists have used the club to challenge societal norms and push boundaries. Yet, as the industry grows, so do the challenges. Parasitic promoters and the pressure to conform to mainstream expectations can often compromise an artist's vision and authenticity.

In the realm of New York City's underground club culture, a luminary emerged, Walt Cassidy, then known as Waltpaper, who would become an emblematic presence among the Club Kids, an artistic and fashion-conscious youth movement. This collective of spirited young souls, driven by artistry and a keen fashion sensibility, left an indelible mark on the fabric of nightlife culture. Their daring exploits and visionary expressions not only shaped mainstream art and fashion but also laid the very groundwork for what we now recognize as the Influencer movement.

Juliana Huxtable, on the other hand, took a different path towards artistic prominence. After college, she ventured to New York to work as a legal assistant for the ACLU's Racial Justice Program. While at the ACLU, Huxtable found solace and creative release in the digital realm of Tumblr. It was here that she amassed a significant following, captivating her audience with long stream-of-consciousness poems and self-portraits that pushed the boundaries of fashion and Nuwaubian imagery.

Juliana Huxtable's presence in the city's creative network grew exponentially. Immersed in underground nightlife and LGBTQI+ activism, the Texas-born artist became a central node, seamlessly connecting an emergent generation of writers, fashion designers, and musicians with the vibrant Downtown visual art world. Her influence extended beyond the realms of DJing, poetry, and performance, as she became a beacon of inspiration for those seeking to break free from the confines of societal norms.

Walt Cassidy and Juliana Huxtable, though following different paths, both embodied the spirit of artistic exploration and cultural revolution. Their unique journeys converged in the pulsating heart of New York City, where they left an indelible mark on the artistic landscape. 

Walt and Juliana met during a House of LaDosha show when Juliana was performing with the band. Walt was mesmerized by her and thought she had tremendous star quality and charisma. Walt announced to a nearby journalist that Juliana will be the next "It Girl" to a writer covering the concert. They met for dinner and realized they were soul mates and fellow creatives right away. They both came from scholarly and activist backgrounds, and as artists, they found a home in New York's nightlife.

Juliana supported Walt’s earliest exploration into jewelry by modeling for him and provided a bridge for Walt to connect with the younger emerging crowd, and Walt for Juliana to the older generation. Their conversations have always danced with the beauty of creativity, a delicate waltz that has formed the heart of their partnership - a harmonious exchange of ideas, filled with respect and grace.

In this in-depth interview, we have the privilege of speaking with renowned artist Juliana Huxtable, and interdisciplinary artist and original Club Kid, Walt Cassidy, who have both made significant contributions to club culture. Together, we will explore the impact of the nightlife industry on artistic expression, the importance of maintaining integrity in the face of external pressures, and the future of club culture in an ever-changing society. 



Walt Cassidy & Juliana Huxtable, Portraits by Leandro Justen.





THE SIGNIFICANCE OF RAVE CULTURE IN ART & SOCIETY 


How do you personally define the concept of a rave, and how do you believe it holds significance in your creative work and in today's society?

JULIANA:

A rave for me is a party centered around dance music with large groups of people that goes beyond the hours of business as usual, even if those business are bars or clubs; there is something about the endurance aspect of a rave that requires this for me. Raves are less about spectacle than dissolution into... oneself, the collective, sensory experience. Raves for me have offered material experiences of redemption, profound introspection, the sublime, collective plea, bodily transfiguration against the whomp of sub frequencies.

These experiences ground a sense of play and are opportunities to be together, which train my artistic sensibilities to be in and through others. I am a better artist, can attune to the flows of others through these experiences.


“The internal machinery of these mega clubs operated as a self supporting system of many parts. The more we did, the more we got photographed and the more we appeared in the media. Suburban kids would leave their rural homes to come to NYC to play with the Club Kids, and there was this lovely ripple effect.“
- Walt Cassidy





Importance of Safe Spaces


Could you share your personal experiences and insights into the importance of safe spaces within nightlife institutions, and how these spaces have influenced your artistic expression and creativity?

WALT:

I was very active in the Hardcore Punk scene in the 1980s before I fell in with the Club Kids in 1991.  I grew up openly queer, and my mom was a bartender along with my Aunt Ernestine in the local gay bars in Norfolk, Virginia, which was probably my first evidence of a safe queer space.  I discovered Hardcore shows and started hanging out with punk kids on the beach.  Having come from a broken family, I was greatly impacted by the chosen family that I found in the other punks, skinheads and skaters that were a part of that scene.

I was frequently attacked all during high school, punched in the face, and so on, but because I had a tribe of my own to retreat into outside of school, that gave me power and strength, which grew over time.  I was empowered on many levels, especially by the DIY energy around starting bands, making fanzines and community codes of hanging out.  That became my creative foundation, which I still pull from today.  I was a political punk too, so I consistently participated in actions with different groups such as Greenpeace, PETA, National Organization of Women and Anti-Nuclear groups — being so close to DC.

I was in the street a lot, so any group of like minded outsiders, hanging out, became a safe space. I’ve said before that Punk gave me my skeleton and the Club Kids gave me my flesh.  When I got to NYC, everything I had evolved into as a punk kid got amplified.  All of a sudden, instead of humble music venues and the street scene, there were these huge mega club spaces that had budgets to fund whatever idea we could come up with. 

As Club Kids, we worked tirelessly to build our own special world.  Having vast spaces, budgets, art crews and club staff to help support us, really changed the game in comparison with suburban Hardcore experience.  There were some fantastic photographers documenting everything too. Documentation is always key.  If it’s not documented, then it doesn’t exist in the long run.  And the PR teams that worked for the mega clubs, helped us take what we were doing to the American public through television appearances, newspaper headlines and magazine editorials. 

The internal machinery of these mega clubs operated as a self supporting system of many parts.  The more we did, the more we got photographed and the more we appeared in the media. Suburban kids would leave their rural homes to come to NYC to play with the Club Kids, and there was this lovely ripple effect.  It just kept building and growing, which was thrilling to be a part of.








Club Culture and Personal Identity


in what ways does club culture intersect with your personal journeys of self-identity, self-expression, and self-discovery, and how does it manifest in your creative works?

Juliana:


Club culture serves as a commons. Although not synonymous with raves, there is an aspect, at least in the clubs I have and currently frequent, that is community driven. Clubs have served against the myopic, isolated forms of sociality that are encouraged by technologically assisted social media. Clubs have opened me to others, and I learn to be in community, to care for others when they need something. The illegality of raves, different from clubs, requires that community serve as an alternative to state structures of care, protection, etc. So I have learned to exist in a  sort liminal space where we must develop our own resources.

Theres a DIY aspect, particularly to raves, that has informed my artwork in particular. The economy of clubs and raves, largely off the books and even .when on the books, driven by the purchases of people who come, is transparent and democratic in a way that art cannot be, because it is a speculative asset economy run by the interests of unchecked wealth. I am grateful to have space creatively and financially to be free from plutocrats.

Clubs have also taught me to fend for myself in the face of promoters who parasitically feed off of young and struggling talent… I have worked for purportedly reputable promoters who exploit aspects of club and rave cultures to essentially function like mob bosses, with no benefit to those who are loyal to them. I really had to learn my worth and get it together because there is a scary relationship between parasitic promoters and vulnerable and/or sycophantic talent in New York… this is especially true of club contexts.



Walt:


My first club job was at BUILDING, where I was hired to paint decor for the VIP lounge.  The club allowed me to use the attic as a studio and I was also invited to do my first exhibition inside of LIMELIGHT.  So you can imagine, to my 18 year old mind, I was living and thought I had really made it, having my own studio and my first exhibition in the two hottest clubs in town.  I had changed my name to Waltpaper, and that was a great experience too. 

I had realized that identity could be a liberating creative medium through punk, but with the Club Kids there was an additional realization that identity could also be a brand.  At that time, no one was using business language like “branding”.  This was the era when being too commercial meant that you had “sold out”.  There was often a lot of guilt around the idea of success within alternative communities.

It was quite forward thinking of the Club Kids to be so business savvy.  By changing my name, I set in motion a life and identity that was completely of my own making, and it was clearly marked with the name change.  I became my own context.  It was at this intersection that I became an interdisciplinary artist, not just a painter and illustrator.  Just being a painter, locked away in a studio alone, felt very one dimensional and boring with all these new spaces that needed to be filled with creativity. 

My relationship to Waltpaper has grown and changed over time.  I now use Waltpaper as my pen name for my writing, and view him and his story less as a personal experience and more as the journey of an archetypal Club Kid; a masthead for a certain type of cultural energy, which I am now steering towards a fiction project called HOTGLUE.









Navigating Authenticity in Fashion


As one of the original NY club kids, how do you navigate the delicate balance between expressing your authentic self and meeting the expectations of your audience in the fashion industry?

WALT:


While I have bounced around from the nightlife and music communities, to the art world, and then design and fashion, I never “played to the crowd”.  My punk roots would not allow me to do that.  I was born an outsider, and that’s all I really know how to be.  I was never the chosen one.  I’ve always had to build my experience from the ground up, alone or with my friends, outside of all the boxes.  There has been a tremendous amount of liberation in carrying this outsider posture.  I’ve chosen to create heat independently and then let the moths come to the flame.  I didn’t understand what I was doing, until recently — it was just my intuitive spirit guiding me.  I’ve never asked permission to be myself.



“I love that I can truly follow the whims of my spirit creatively. This does create a tension in expectations, especially in an era where we are all encouraged to package and market ourselves into easily digestible “content”, a term I have come to resent deeply.”

- Juliana Huxtable



Benefits and Challenges of Multidiscipline Artistry


What are the benefits and challenges you've encountered while working in multiple artistic disciplines, and how do you find synergy between them in your creative projects?

Juliana:


The benefit is that I can be an artist in the broadest truest sense of what that means, and not a careerist. Artists are often pushed into one career pathway even if that path isnt reflective of the free flow of their interests or creative desires. I love that I can truly follow the whims of my spirit creatively. This does create a tension in expectations, especially in an era where we are all encouraged to package and market ourselves into easily digestible “content”, a term I have come to resent deeply.

I look up to people who paved the way before I was here like Walt, who makes beautiful, brilliant, engaged work no matter the medium or setting. Its important to push against the current content streamlining of any all artistic field and make space for peoples curiosities to unfold without regard to careerism.



Walt:


I ran into challenges later in life being interdisciplinary, trying to find my place in the art and gallery world, where they tend to prefer you do one thing and keep doing it over and over because at that point you are saddled with making collectors feel “safe”.  Collectors feel safer with consistency.  There is a lot of fear in the art world.  I find a bit more freedom in the design world where the tempo is faster and they tend to reward a changing and constantly evolving voice.

I created Walt Cassidy Studio as a conceptual casing for the more design leaning stuff that I do.  Going back to creating one’s own context, I felt the need to create my own output apparatus, one in which I could create in endless forms, without guilt or anxiety.  I handle my own business, sales and promotion instead of relying on galleries, agents and so forth.  It’s not an easy road, but at the end of the day, I feel pure and true, and that’s what is most important to me.










Power of Combining Art Forms

Can you describe a project or collaboration that illustrates the power of combining various art forms to convey a specific message or evoke particular emotions?

Juliana:


Of all the artistic mediums, I feel that music has the opportunity to approach a sort of total-art practice, in the sense that music, unlike any other medium, is distributed through and contextualized by film, text, sound, image. The process of releasing an album involves incorporating every imaginable art form and medium. And I think it has held its ground as one of if not the indisputably preeminent art form as a result. Working in my band has been revelatory in this sense, It is a combination of all art forms working together to create sound.



Walt: 


For me, my first book, NEW YORK: CLUB KIDS is a pretty powerful testament of cross pollinating creative mediums and how such creative expression can affect the greater public, culture at large and history. 










Strategies for Artistic Integrity



Can you share the strategies or practices you employ to maintain your artistic integrity and resist external pressures or trends?

JULIANA:


I find value in the process of making art itself, and in seeing a work come to life. That is what drives me, that is what pushes me. Integrity is deeply important to me and a strive for independence accompanies that. Centering what brings me joy, not what provides social validation in the moment is important. People will catch up eventually. Knowing that I’m true to the drives within me is what fortifies my resistance to trends or careerist capitulations.



“I love that I can truly follow the whims of my spirit creatively. This does create a tension in expectations, especially in an era where we are all encouraged to package and market ourselves into easily digestible “content”, a term I have come to resent deeply.”

- Juliana Huxtable



Balancing Recognition and Authenticity



As an artist, how do you balance your desire for recognition and commercial success with the need to preserve your authentic voice in your creative work?

WALT:


I’m maniacally autonomous when it comes to creativity.  For me, democracy, too many voices, sabotages the creative process.  I allow myself to be isolated and self obsessed in my creativity, because that seems to be the only way to keep what I do authentic.  I like to walk alone and not answer to anyone.  I never aspired to have money or be famous, my goal has always been to have a unique voice of my own, however small or large it may be.  My audience is not vast, I don’t think.  I’d say it’s mostly comprised of insiders, more than the general public.  I don’t have a massive following.  So I don’t feel much need to micromanage the pedestrian response to what I do. 

It does, however, seem like my audience is comprised of people who have huge audiences themselves or work for people or brands that have huge audiences, and those influential personalities seem to pay close attention to what I do.  I’ve often seen my energy manifested via 2nd and 3rd generation output.  I’ve appeared on a lot of mood boards, I’m told.  It’s a bit like skipping a stone along the surface of a pond.  I toss the stone, and it just kinda keeps radiating and bouncing along. I hope that doesn’t read as too arrogant, but I do feel that it is true.








Art's Impact on Social Conversations

Your art often addresses issues of gender, identity, and societal norms. How do you envision your work contributing to broader conversations on these topics, and what impact do you hope to achieve?

Juliana:


If you look at how the events defining this historical moment are framed, we are already being addressed on these terms. There is a meltdown over reproductive rights and language pushed by trans people regarding state and medical classifications. Global conflicts are invariably framed along the lines of cultural, ethnic and religious redemption against erasure or absorptions into an imposed national or supra-national identity.

There is so much more at play here, and while identitarian discourse can be used in nefarious ways, I hope my art seduces via these frameworks into a different approach, to understand the material shifts happening in culture and society. My work deals with so many things that could never be reduced to identity, identity is the analogue through which the questions are provoked and I hope that this dynamic can spill over into how people engage each other outside of art. To dissolve myopia through the very structures that frame the limits of vision.



Walt: 


I was raised with the quote, “Resolve to be thyself; and know that he who finds himself, loses his misery.” 
- Matthew Arnold

I used that quote in the opening of my book.  It was my father’s wish for me, and I extend that wish to all other people, especially creatives.  My personal and professional aspirations are just to find peace and continue to participate in the world on my own terms.  I believe that my life, and how I live it as an individual, has been the most fruitful medium available to me. The things I make, objects and so on, are residue of that one master work; my life.  I see artists as map makers.  Resonant creative work has the ability to lead us in and out of our mental and emotional wilderness.



“I really had to learn my worth and get it together because there is a scary relationship between parasitic promoters and vulnerable and/or sycophantic talent in New York… this is especially true of club contexts.” 

- Juliana Huxtable




Artists and Social Responsibility


Do you believe artists have a responsibility to engage with and comment on the social and political issues of our time? If so, how do you navigate this responsibility within your work?

JULIANA:


There is no responsibility inherent to art to me. I also reject the idea that any and all artists should speak to the political issues of our time. Many if not most artists dont have that capability and I wouldn’t inflict the tragedy of many artists illiteracy on the already burdened public. Art (fine art, art supported by insitutions) is already so marginal in the larger political discourse, exacerbated by the opaque economics of the industry and the capitulation of Galerist, curators, etc to those interests. I tend to believe that politics already exists in everything that falls under its ambit. I think artists have a responsibility for honesty and in that honesty, the ways in which social and political forces shape that work will be apparent wether or not the artist chooses to ‘take a stand’ in the performative form that often takes.









Provoking Discussion through Art


Could you discuss a specific piece or project where you aimed to provoke thought and discussion around a particular social or cultural issue?

Juliana:


My last New York solo show, Interfertility Industrial Complex, deals with the interspecies dynamic as a springboard to process everything from industrial agriculture to beastiality.



Walt: 


Looking at the Club Kids as a form of societal performance art — us confronting the American public through our appearances on daytime talk shows.  The tv shows were always framed under this notion of “the youth gone wild” and “do you know where your kids are at night?” …but those public confrontations brought to the surface some healthy and fun debates about identity, gender and the value of hedonism and safe space, while sending intentional smoke signals out to all the queers hiding under rocks across the country, beckoning them to liberate and join us.









Future of Club Culture 


In your opinion, how do you envision the future of club culture and its role in the broader cultural and artistic landscape?

WALT:

That’s really up to the young people filling those spaces, they are the leaders now.  I know that club culture tends to germinate ideas before the greater public gets a hold of them, and that has been the case throughout history, be it the Roaring 20s, Weimar Berlin, the Abstract Expressionist at Cedar Tavern, the Factory in the 60s, Punk and Disco in the 70s or the Club Kids in the 90s.  Young people are always going to find a way to hang out and breed ideas.  If someone wants to be close to that kind of bubbling source energy, I would advise them to spend some time clubbing.




“My personal and professional aspirations are just to find peace and continue to participate in the world on my own terms. I believe that my life, and how I live it as an individual, has been the most fruitful medium available to me. The things I make, objects and so on, are residue of that one master work; my life.”

- Walt Cassidy




 

Challenges and Opportunities for Emerging Club-Inspired Artists 


What do you believe are the most significant challenges and opportunities facing emerging artists who draw inspiration from or are rooted in club culture today?

JULIANA:

The same rules should apply to everyone in the industry. People should be paid, people should be as safe as they can be, people should be able to work together to create economies of excess within clubbing which is very much possible.



“I love that I can truly follow the whims of my spirit creatively. This does create a tension in expectations, especially in an era where we are all encouraged to package and market ourselves into easily digestible “content”, a term I have come to resent deeply.”

- Juliana Huxtable




Artistic Journeys and Future Aspirations


How do you see your artistic journeys evolving in the coming years, and what are your goals and aspirations for your future creative projects?

Juliana:


I hope to keep my fire bright and am excited to expand what I’m doing in music!



Walt:


What I learned in doing my first book, NEW YORK: CLUB KIDS is that the power at the end of the day, goes to the story teller.  The process of making that book sparked an interest in self publishing — taking me back to my punk days — which I intend to pursue through the imprint that I’ve created for Walt Cassidy Studio, called HOTGLUE. 

I am releasing a 2nd edition paperback reader version of NEW YORK: CLUB KIDS, which I’ve retitled, THE CLUB KIDS, this November on the 4 year anniversary of the first book launch.  This will be the first HOTGLUE title. I’m hoping with this 2nd edition to bounce around and do some readings and sell some t-shirts, since the first edition sold out during lockdown before I got the chance to enjoy the journey of having a successful book.  After I get THE CLUB KIDS out this Fall, I intend to turn my attention back to working on my fiction project for HOTGLUE.  My updates can always be found at waltcassidy.com






︎



Article headline Meet The Cookies #001: Andrew Ryce

04 April, 2021



Meet the Cookies #001:


Andrew Ryce

Andrew Ryce is one of those names that will stick with you whether you know who he is or not. When I first met Andrew a few years ago, he struck me as aloof, serious, and a little bit cut-throat. After getting to know Andrew over time, I can attest that he is hardly anything of my first impression; he is a reserved person by nature, and while not shy, he has a shy-like demeanor, and like most of us, Andrew prefers the company of puppies to that of other humans.

A Vancouver native, he was already writing about the dance music scene before he could even get into public events. His journey to becoming a full-time music writer was one of serendipity and seeking opportunities. Starting out on a friend’s blog, he moved to writing for FACT Magazine where he further built his portfolio and finally decided to cold email RA who invited him to write for them part-time while he was a college student.

After graduation, “FACT Magazine offered me a job to work in...Canada as their North American guy while I was still in school. And so then RA made a counteroffer, and hired me and created a position for me as the first North American staff writer. And so I was going to school full time and working...full time and that's how I got started.”

Now a staple in the electronic music reviewing scene, Andrew sees that with his influence comes a responsibility to use his platform to elevate the voices of those who don’t have the finances and power behind them. Be they undiscovered artists on Bandcamp or musicians of color long overdue for celebration, he has tried to use every power he has in the scene to create positive change.





The pandemic “feels like a major loss of a network for the community”





When the pandemic hit, Andrew’s life abruptly changed. “A big part of my life was traveling around, going to the different offices for work, and in that, interacting with different scenes, going to venues, you know—I have a good network of friends around the world through music,” he says. It all came to a halt when travel was restricted and events were canceled.

He explained, “all that's taken away. So it feels like a major, like, loss of a network for the community. I'm still friends with these people, but I no longer see them all the time. So it makes it feel kind of abstract.” That abstract feeling has carried over through to him experiencing new music. Besides walks and sitting at his desk, he has no other context to consume music. “We're a year into there not being clubs...dance floors and most places in the world, [it] feels very strange,” he reflected.

But he also recognized that on a personal level, it hasn’t been all bad. “If there's a silver lining, I feel like a forced break from partying is probably a good thing...I feel much healthier.” He continued, “it was nice to have a few months of like, not doing any drugs or not like drinking alot. And lie having weekends where I could get up and do something in the morning.”





Despite the crisis, Andrew is “amazed that people are pumping out so much great music”





When asked about his friends in the community Andrew was pensive. He shared that his friends “are fucking depressed” and that it’s hit them hard financially and psychologically. Despite all the canceled gigs and disconnection from fans in person, the scene pushes on and from home studios, people continue to create their art. He’s “still amazed that people are pumping out so much great music. It's kind of mind-boggling to think about.”






Inequities are still a huge problem in electronic music, but in his eyes, it has “come a long way in terms of social justice and inclusivity”





When Andrew first started out he saw that there was essentially no queer visibility in the scene. To the extent they were included, “gay people were seen only as Top 40 queens, that kind of vibe,” not as integral to the whole community. He says, “I think there were a lot of decisions, conscious or unconscious, being made by people to exclude other people who were gay, or who were not white, when I first started navigating the dance music scene.”

As a white gay man he hasn’t experienced any extreme discrimination outside of what he calls “random homophobia,” but he recognizes he lives with privilege as a music writer everyone is trying to please and impress. With respect to race, the story is more complex. In his experience, clubs and parties are often segregated, and door policies and venue security are often notoriously racist, especially in the US and Canada.

But there’s a growing awareness of, and pushback against, this kind of discrimination. From a journalistic perspective RA, the publication Andrew belongs to, recently celebrated 120 Black artists in electronic music. Andrew says, “I understand the necessity of striving to have a balanced and diverse output—you have to look at things critically. At RA, what I'm in charge of,and what I deal with, we are trying to reform it. I help run a review section now where I’m focusing on developing young writers, and especially young writers of color and Black writers.” This may not put an end to racism in the industry, but it is a step in the right direction and part of a web of actions that must continue.

Since electronic music has a global following, overseas readers are witnessing the racial reckoning happening in the US. Andrew shared that “there's another portion of the scene, primarily Europeans, that don't think this is a problem at all, and they say they're sick of hearing about it. Which is bullshit obviously, but it's a perspective that exists. So it's an interesting balancing act, because... of course all these platforms are not doing enough. But for some readers, they don't want the platforms to try at all. Dance music isn't one crowd or community. It's not a monolith. There's parts of it that we'd probably like to pretend don't exist—but they do.”





On artists changing their names, Andrew sees it as “a hollow gesture if you're not going to follow it up with anything else”





There has been a wave of artists in many genres, including dance DJs, changing their names that have been called out as inappropriate or problematic. Andrew feels “with some people it should have been done a while ago, you know, but obviously, last year put the reality in everyone's face.”

But he recognizes that ultimately “it's also kind of a hollow gesture if you're not going to follow it up with anything else. And will it have a significant impact? I do think that in terms of the bigger DJs, like, let's say, Blessed Madonna, it will have an impact ...[on] people who are involved in the dance scene on a more surface level [and] are not familiar with social justice and racial issues, they might think about it a little bit more, or at least be aware of it. But I don't think it's some heroic act.”






We still have a long way to go in the dance music scene when it comes to inclusivity and representation





When asked why Black DJ’s and their careers were thriving and headlining more raves than regularly in the midst of the pandemic and national crises, Andrew had this to say; “I think there was a collective awakening that happened during the pandemic, both because of the importance of mutual aid and support in the wake of unprecedented economic ruin, and because of the conversations and ripple effects of the George Floyd protests and the ongoing Black Lives Matter movement. Discussions became more frank and many platforms immediately tried to rectify past mistakes by supporting Black artists in a much more concerted and deliberate way than before, some better than others. It shouldn't have taken a tragedy and international outrage to get there, but it's happening now.”

Furthermore, he thinks “this sudden shift and cruel irony—Black artists getting more attention than ever when the music industry is essentially at a standstill—shows that we still have a long way to go in the dance music scene when it comes to inclusivity and representation. It should have already been better. But I also think it shows how strong and adaptable the dance music scene is—the conversations among dance music artists, fans and industry workers seem to be miles ahead of other comparable music scenes or genres. I hope that we can keep the energy going to nurture and platform Black, trans and other marginalized artists with real material support—particularly gigs—once the industry starts resurfacing around the world.”





“The whole underground dance music scene... has been through a major reckoning in the past year”






On the topics of queer inclusion and race, Andrew is seeing the scene wake up to what marginalized people have known all along. He feels like “the whole underground dance music scene, whatever you classify that, as has been through a major reckoning in the past year, but we haven't had the chance to even put any ideas to actually be back together because the gatherings are not allowed to happen in most places.”

A consequence of the pandemic we’ve all heard about is the possibility of smaller venues closing their doors permanently. Andrew observes, “by the time things are back to normal, which leaves only the biggest of the big-money clubs, or promoters or conglomerates that that own property and can afford to still have it, they're in charge, and then everything becomes much worse because everything is driven by money even more than it used to be. But, you know, that has its own knock-on effect of pushing things further underground, which could be a good thing, because then it does create more of a sense of shared accountability and responsibility.”

No one knows for sure what the future holds for small independent venues and the cultures they foster, both good and bad. “Not all clubs are great, or run by nice people, or are worth saving by virtue of the fact that they are clubs. A lot of clubs have very sketchy business practices,” he noted.

“RA has given a lot of ad space away for free, including to charities or clubs doing fundraisers. So that's one example of what an organization can do in the context of all of this.” He continued, “I've noticed a new spirit of teamwork between festivals and promoters, publications, agencies, clubs. Everyone wants everyone else to survive... I don't think anyone is secretly hoping that everything falls apart.”





“I've just made it my mission in the past few years to push a lot of younger artists”






Andrew knows the power of his writing. As he explains it, “I've written about a few DJs that are quite big after.” RA had to change some of their publishing choices to counteract excessive DJ fees the more famous artists were demanding. They used to publish a poll each year that became the DJ list. He says, “we had to stop it because DJs and agencies were reassessing and planning their fees around where they would place in the list, it got very politicized. And the impact of this was so outsized. If you got to the top 5, you could probably raise your fee by like, 10 to 15 grand next year. No one wants to be responsible for that. Except maybe the DJs. So we made a decision to put a stop to it.”

To act as a counterbalance to that, Andrew says, “I've just made it my mission in the past few years to push a lot of younger artists, including artists with like, only 100 followers or something, or if it's their first release.” Understanding that great music can come from anywhere in this world, “I've [spread] it geographically like trying to cover music from everywhere, not just Europe, and the US.”

Offering one possible solution, “I think there needs to be quotas in place. They can be flexible, but they should exist. Publications must be aware of who and what they're covering and how they can improve it to make it more diverse. It's not that hard.”





DJs playing during the pandemic is “a tricky thing”






Put simply, Andrew says, “I don't know if there should be a "shitlist" of DJs playing gigs during the pandemic. But I think if, you know if you're traveling to Mexico playing gigs for rich people, that says it all—maybe they're not really part of the scene, not a part of the community that we wish to create. You're just a rich person who has more money and no scruples.”





Andrew believes venues need to develop a code of conduct for safety





On the issue of safety at raves and festivals, Andrew had a few concrete ideas for how to improve on the status quo. “So whether that's drug testing...[or a] medic on-site, that kind of thing, overdose training, all that stuff. That’s... the one of the biggest issues for underground events.”

There’s also a financial restructuring that needs to go along with structural changes. He is troubled by “the reliance on venues and festivals and gatherings on alcohol and the sale of alcohol. And I'm not sure what the solution is. But I think that if there was a way for more festivals and gatherings to become less dependent on the sale of alcohol, and sponsorship from alcohol, that would be a very positive thing.” He concluded, “if you're gonna have a really strong gathering that is about culture, and community, it needs to move away from just being a bar.”

In the other sense of safety, Andrew says he’s “been to so many things in LA where most of the scene is in warehouses where I felt very unsafe... not enough exits, way too packed, you know, there's no ventilation.” He believes that “people need to become more aware and accepting of safety guidelines and not seeing them as a vestige of corporate culture.” He believes the whole scene would be better off if “basic safety standards were made more obvious and accessible, and published somewhere and agreed upon, almost like some kind of code of conduct.”





“I definitely don't run out of people or things to write about”






There’s not enough time in the world to check out every electronic musician out there. Andrew doesn’t believe in keeping any great artists a secret. He shared that, “one of my favorites is this guy, Tano out of New York...he's putting out a second record in March.”

Another underrated musician Andrew supports is “[a] guy named Ike Release, he's from Chicago. I've been in contact with him for like, 10 years. And he's like a Chicago staple that not enough people pay attention to. He put on an amazing record last year, and I didn't get to write about it. And he sent me a new EP, and I want to make more of an effort to support him this year because I think his music is really special. He doesn't get covered anywhere.”

Andrew says, “I definitely don't run out of people or things to write about.” He goes on, “I'm always trying to break my established cycles of consuming and I guess researching and acquiring because if I'm only getting my music from the same five websites, or promo companies or whatever, it's, I'm not going to find anything new. So one of one of my priorities is always challenging myself. And, you know, sometimes just spending like, a few hours on Bandcamp looking through random stuff, to see if I find anything cool.”





“Dance music offers some kind of solace and community”






To define any community is challenging. In terms of finding his own sense of belonging, Andrew says, “Community is a tricky word, and I don't know if it has any easy definition. I've hardly ever felt like I belonged anywhere, though I've found certain pockets of dance music where I've been like, okay, these people get me, or think about things the same way as me, I like them.”

However, he knows his experiences are atypical because “I've also only been involved in the scene as a "journalist," someone who observes, reports, and critiques, so while I am definitely part of the ecosystem, I don't always feel as embedded in every community I encounter (nor do I think I should be).”

He takes a stab at defining the entire electronic community; “as for what community is in dance music terms—well, it's tempting to say there is a global community, but I'm not sure that's true. There are so many nodes and factions, many of which are opposed to each other or exist completely outside of each other. As a whole, dance music is made up of a patchwork of communities that exist side-by-side to make something beautiful—smaller scenes prioritized on nurturing each other, fostering mutual aid, and having a space (or place) to express themselves.”

“But I think for a lot of people, dance music offers some kind of solace and community, particularly at the DIY level, and I've always admired the smaller, tight-knit communities I've encountered in dance music.”



︎

On The Cookie Record #002: Don Esquivel

24 July, 2020



on the cookie record #002:


Don Esquivel





Click Here for Don Esquivel’s Soundcloud




Don Esquivel is a DJ and producer from Michoacán, Mexico who’s been fermenting in Mexico’s underground scene for over 10 years. Don’s passion for music began at a very young age when he heard some global underground CD mixes that his older sister often used to purchase.

He immediately knew that he wanted to be part of that world after he saw all the rave photographs and the feeling the pleasure the sonics brought to his ears.

He decided to pursue a solid career in DJing and learned how to produce music when he graduated from college, pre-his collision with the queer underground scene and community. When Don finally crossed paths with Por Detroit, his life changed; Don finally found his haven, a place where he could be himself, feel validated, and more pressingly, listen to music he adored throughout his entire life.

We asked Don if he could travel back in time, and if he had to pick a year to be trapped in forever, he responded, “1997 or 1998, when electronic music was really at the prime of its development in a wide variety of sub-genres, and (my favorite) the most iconic house bangers came to arise during that period.” Don also shared with us what he thought was the most under-rated sub-genre, that he’d like to see make a comeback, “I think lounge and chill-out music needs to make a comeback, I’d love to see more electronica and chill-out rooms in our modern-day raves.”

For On The Cookie Record #002, Don Esquivel recommends his top three records which have inspired him and made a significant impact on his musical productions.





Flux Like Me by ANNA COOK


Don:
Anna Cook was a DJ and producer from Chile, concentrated on raw hardware house music productions, with only a few releases, one for Art Room Records, a label from Aguascalientes, México, and the other for 100% Silk. This EP has three great raw house tunes, one of my favorites to be ‘Ice Mag Dich’, released in 2017 before her murder which occurred under strange circumstances, her death is still under investigation and most likely related to her sexual orientation. #justicaparaannacook






PERFECTO RADAR by DJs Pareja


DON:
This is the first album released by the Argentinian Duo in 2004, Versatil? is an LP with 11 tracks of different moods, some songs are great for sing-a-longs like “Dios en la disco” (my favorite track of the album) or “Perfecto Radar,” this album is a perfect example of great execution and curation between the genres of House and Techno-Pop.






NO ERES TU BY MAMACITA


DON:
This track was a hidden gem on Latin music blogs since 2010 or ’11, if I’m not mistaken, until it was released by the label Huntleys & Palmers in 2014 with a great remix by the Argentinian artist, Ana Helder. The original song is still one of my favorite Latin house tracks ever, a great song to sing with your friends on the dance floor and is a lovely, energetic track by the Chilean artist.





Don Esquivel’s musical genres are house-and techno-oriented, with three EPs released, his most recent release for MuyMuy Limited. You can purchase and listen to Don’s EPs via his Bandcamp embedded below.





︎

30 April, 2020



Maddening Solidarity:


The Economy of Dance and the Body as a Free Form Tool in the Structure of Time and Doom




Bossa Nova Civic Club in Brooklyn | Courtesy of Bossa Nova Civic Club




Clubs and sanctuaries where we find comfort and refuge throughout the globe are shut down due to COVID-19, also known as coronavirus or as we like to call it “Miss Rona.” Why have we adopted that name? It’s because we are trying to make light out of a dark situation.

As we know, NYC attracts people for all different reasons, nightlife chief among them. Whether you’re going out to dance and party or you’re working in nightlife, you’d see that artists within the underground techno queer nightlife like to take themselves very seriously and for good reason. We are putting our bodies on the line for people to see. We show up, dress up, and speak up to express reason, not just in nightlife, but in the creases of the everyday connection.

There is some kind of coven in the rave that raises light in differences as to say: I accept you no matter how you dress, how you speak or how you dance. There is no judgment other than to raise humility and awareness to take care of our bodies and our limitations on how we set them free in any place we can modulate, musicians expressing our passion to release that distance people want to close.

How do I explain that today is the International Transgender Day of Visibility and all I hear is silence in the streets, where we usually celebrate the beauty and facets of our differences in our appearance and demeanor? Mainstream culture rejects us, so we made a culture all our own, and with that, this is all owed to transqueer artists. They are paving the way for people all around the world to listen and create an alternative form of releasing distance and territory that many don’t get to express during the day and during this cold winter/spring Covid adaption. It’s in the spaces that we share in our clubs in NYC, Berlin and all the way to Taipei that make us ravers feel free to be ourselves and feel paid attention to.

Everyone that I know in nightlife is kind of going crazy right now because we can’t celebrate with each other. I may have seen you before, and I might not even remember you the next night, because that’s how many we are. It’s not your face I remember, but your vibe and what you are emitting with your body for you and us to sink our pleasure into an environment so all who come should feel safe.






Wilde Renate in Berlin | Courtesy of AP Photo, Markus Schreiber




With the clubs closed, we’ve turned to social media, podcasts and live streams. They have become the only way we can reach each other. I party in my bedroom and living room now, trying to make sense of what’s missing and it’s a night club and how we are constantly breaking conventions to set our ideals for the daytime world as well. We release we talk and create, aiming at defusing any uncomfortable feelings you may or may not have within.

Dance is any and everywhere. There is a privilege because I’ve trained myself in movement as a science and kinesthetic. For the dark-lit bass-breathing body-heating dance warehouse is where many like myself go to lose the inhibition of everyday scrutiny and judgment, to forget having to be a worker on top of an artist on top being looked at differently because of our personal particularités; none of which will ever stop us because there is space for many to express on and through their bodies what happens in nightlife. This is a perception in territory and where in our architecture we crave to be underground. Closer to the core maybe?





Nowadays in Brooklyn | Courtesy of Nowadays




Shaping space in dedication to art and performance and just internal releases, I want to understand how a virus we didn’t expect to become such a global tragedy is shaping us and making us realize how unprepared the world was to stay inside and to stay away from each other — exactly the opposite goal of what nightlife is supposed to achieve. Partying is all about the body, romance, sensuality, sexuality and now there is no space to reinvent our tragedy but to only watch it pass right by through our windows.

But I find myself in solidarity with my friends, family and fellow artists around me in NYC through live streaming performance; Now the body is at home and there is much to invent. We all have the chance to show the world how together we truly are by pushing through our doom and our imperfection to call out to our neighbors in a different way. Bodies are coming together through forced separation. We are showing each other that we know how to listen and how to work together by staying so far apart.

Within dance, there is the idea of vanity. One that pushes an angst to ideas of freedom. There is particularity the motion that sets freedom to limitations of mind. The air I breathe is the movement I set free. I am the obstacle. We are divulging into the rhythm. Once the movement is set free there is limitation to what one can do with the body. Ideas at large say to create form, a linear beginning and ending with the body’s motions as a story. The idea is the framework for form and identity. What does our story consist of? Happiness, burden, freedom, laugher, vanity, the solution is the comedy.

The story is henceforth a majestical enterprise of a technicality that lies on the spectrum of the illusion — the illusion we are truly alive during the dance. The body is laughing at itself in creating an idea of the story because we are barred and set by the limitations of our own lives that the only gift to give is atonement for even starting the motion for this particularity of the body’s story in motion is selfish. We cannot truly see outside of ourselves, although it seems as such in the verbalization of the context or content of the movement, the communication with the outside world is still in context to ourselves. That is the darker side we must laugh at. We applaud because we recognize the story we are able to identify within our lives. We are in awe because we see “Yes! That is me,” I understand that body. But in the humility of our lives, if we cannot laugh at our doom, we will be terrified into a throat wrenching fear of misunderstanding for our own demise.

The body launches the ideas of freedom of movement unparalleled to none. We applaud because we are laughing in hysteria for the brevity in the body and knowledge of the performer to be able to communicate an acquired gluttonous action for the summation of the ideas of life and its feats and perils. The action of movement requires a close study of the ideas of peculiarity and the justice that comes with the cessation of the end of the performance and the resolution for the climax of story communicated.

At large dance is a summation of the territory and that which blocks the heart from happiness. Even in the joyous spring-filled dance, there is an idea of location and territory within the idea that states — where is the joy emerging? In one’s head? Bedroom? Studio? Street? Club? Underwater? The idea of territory is set large as a phenomenon of pathos. And lack of space.






Berlin | Courtesy of AP Photo, Markus Schreiber




The body is hence set free inside the limitations that come with despair within the first movement. Freedom here is death and the immobilization of the breath and body temperature of heating it up or coming alive in the spirit, bringing us closer to the end. The end of the story and end of our lives. Dance is comedy. Because, as we bring alive these movements, we are strengthening and weakening our bodies to live longer for what? To dance again and get rid of the pain of the heart the music sets free in our bodies. We are at one with our ending laughing at it in each movement the rhythm of the heart and breath allow. In the midst of our understanding, we are then asked to analyze the ideas of gender and class, ableism, economy and social structure with each movement. There is our voice. Unable to be silenced because outside internal, external notions of freedom.
The body is launching itself to study a case. The case of humanity and why we are here. And it may be one of the compromises for the ideas of brevity in informal settings. Laughter is launched in the spectacle. We have a mission of transmitting the disdain of the mind in a total mass setting. We are free-forme instruments of ideas in this solidarity. How do we perform the lack thereof? We are movement in unison with time structure. Even standing still within the structure of time, there is movement. What ails the aching pains of the heart? Are we ever truly satisfied? Once the body is at rest, we dream. We constantly are in movement. This is why the language we use in the formality of our totality is important in the justification of means. We laugh one after the other to free all our ailments. We reflect madding universal solidarity. For the ideas of life are in the cessation of a free form tool. Us.


︎


Rave Scout Cookies compiled a list of their favorite local NYC venues and platforms with their direct funding channels;

17 July, 2020



on the cookie record #001:


Josh Cheon


To count down the release of our first edition handbook in a month’s time, we’re going On The Cookie Record once a week with our favorite Chief Scouts and we couldn’t think of anyone else other than the faithful vinyl guardian and enthusiast, Josh Cheon, to pop our cookie record cherry.







Josh’s love for records began when he was a young teen in suburban New Jersey, 15 minutes away from New York City, where he spent his weekends dancing and digging for records at the goth club, The Bank. He held internships with Metropolis Records, Beggars Banquet/4AD, Matador, and DFA before moving to San Francisco in 2006. Somewhere along the way during the spring of 2009, he stumbled into a love affair with the underground 80s and that’s when his record label, Dark Entries, was born.

Vinyl-focused DJ and collector established Dark Entries to preserve sound qualities and commemorate the esthetics of artists. Dark Entries release out of print and unreleased underground music and contemporary bands. All their releases are independent 80s DIY record labels. At Fantasy Studios, Dark Entries consigns all their projects with the prolific engineer, George Horn, who re-masters each release with his over 40 years of expertise in the industry.

For our first On The Cookie Record series, Josh shares his top three classics and delivers a delectable review of each record and artist, pledged to escort you back in time to the golden days.






Leather Man by Maxx Man




Josh:
Maxx Mann were the gay New Wave duo of Frank Oldham Jr (vocals, lyrics) and Paul Hamman (music) from New York City formed in 1981. Frank studied voice and acting at the Herbert Bergdorf School idolizing Eartha Kitt, Nancy Wilson, Johnny Mathis, and Shirley Bassey. Paul was playing piano for a cabaret singer at a bar in Greenwich Village where Frank met him and their friendship began. Paul and Frank worked together 3 to 4 times a week recording their debut self-titled album released in 1982, limited to 500 copies. Songs provide interesting insights into the homosexual experience before the AIDS crisis: cruising backroom bars, BDSM, and one-night stands. The music is “Neo-realistic rock” heavily influenced by punk, titillating, synthesized body and soul with Frank’s dramatized vocal styling. The original press release sent to radio stations stated, “Because this is a completely innovative sound, we hope you will give it several listening. It is adventurous, daring, and certain to cause reactions from your listeners.”










Big Shot by Patrick Cowley




Josh:
Patrick Cowley is one of the most revolutionary and influential figures in the canon of disco, Cowley created his own brand of Hi-NRG dance music, “The San Francisco Sound.” In 1979 Patrick was contacted by John Coletti, owner of famed gay porn company Fox Studio in Los Angeles. Patrick jumped on this offer and sent reels of his college compositions from the 70s to John in LA. Coletti then used a variable speed oscillator to adjust the pitch and speed of Patrick’s songs in-sync with the film scenes. The result was the VHS collections “Muscle Up” and “School Daze” released in 1979 and 1980. “Afternooners” is the third collection of Cowley’s instrumental songs, recorded between 1979 and 1982. Some of these recordings are demos from the album “Mind Warp”. All songs were originally untitled, so we’ve used the titles from Fox Studio’s 8mm film loops.










DREAMING BY LEATHER STRIP




JOSH:
Leather Strip is the solo-project of Danish electronic industrial artist Claus Larsen. Influenced by Fad Gadget, Depeche Mode, and Jean Michel Jarre, Claus began creating synth-pop melodies at age 14. Though the melodies were catchy and upbeat, they had a hidden melancholy because Claus knew that he differed from others. “Dreaming” was his first attempt to “come out” to himself as a queer kid.





︎



Article headline
︎       ︎       ︎      ︎




Rave Scout Diaries

The Rave Scout Diaries is a captivating series that documents the stories and viewpoints of marginalized voices in the dance music scene. With interviews, reviews, and editorial columns, this series delves into the diverse cultural and creative aspects of the dance music community.