The Trance Dance Experience
Jenny Ryan
Professor Kolcio
Introduction
Psychedelic trance, or "psytrance" as it is more commonly known, is a genre of music that has become a global phenomenon and has its roots in the 1960's psychedelic era. The music itself is intrinsically tied to ritualistic dance events. The regular, rhythmic electronic beat is accented by a "kick" or "thud" that creates a tribal sound. Various textures, loops, and samples create a more or less psychedelic feel, depending on the genre of psytrance. Repetitive phrases gradually heighten emotional states to the point of breakdowns, the continual implied climaxes that precede the actual climax. The sound itself is gritty, often distorted, and very full, in the sense that it can be fully embodied, completely encompassing and overpowering the active listener.
The events typically last all night, often with alternating DJs but occasionally with a single DJ for the entire time. They are frequently outdoors, but this is not always the case (particularly in the northeastern United States). Throughout the night, the sound of the music changes to fit the time, energy, and mood of the event. There is a predictable pattern to the type of psytrance being played: As the night settles in, the music gradually becomes harder and darker. Around 4 am, this dark, "full-on" psytrance gets a bit stranger and more twisted as the dawn approaches. The sunrise set, a favorite of many, is often friendlier (yet still incredibly energetic) in tone. Often, the music continues into the day, but is much gentler for the exhausted, sleepless crowd. Drug use is common, particularly LSD, and its influence can be found in nearly every aspect of the psychedelic trance party. The atmosphere is surreal in nature, replete with flashing lights, psychedelic artwork, creative and extravagant costumes, and often hula-hoopers and fire dancers (see below).
How Psytrance-Lovers Describe Their Experiences
While the trance community is growing here in America, it is still relatively obscure. I am not attempting to write a history of psytrance, nor even a traditional ethnography. Rather, I am interested in how the trance community describes their experiences dancing at these events. To tap into the trance community, I decided to use a methodology that is concurrent with my field of interest- online communities. I posted the following questions to half a dozen trance groups on Tribe.net, an online social networking site heavily populated by DJs, musicians, partygoers, and hippies of all sorts:
I posted these questions to eight psytrance communities, and have received 27 replies. Responses ranged from intellectual musings to free-verse poetry such as the following:
Moving beyond the spirals of time
We return to the source of love divine
As we dance as one with the forces of creation
The sleeping serpents will be awakened
With these snakes of creation our souls will entwine
To dance this ritual buried deep
Within our collective mind
Opening our hearts we surrender to the dance
One tribe united
We journey into trance
In this temple of love we will dance as one
One body
One mind
One heart
Let the journey start
Captivated by the rhythm and spirit through which my participants chose to convey their experiences, I organized the responses to each question and selected fragments that captured the participants' voices best. These fragments were then pieced together at random in poetic form, with each line representative of a different respondent. I avoided applying a narrative structure to the poems in order to more effectively highlight the individual fragments.
1. Why do you attend psytrance events?
Because of the ability to spin fire at the venue
To dance and meet like-minded souls.
To find a safe place to dance for hours to music that really moves me with other people who feel the same way.
I have never encountered such a powerful pattern of sounds.
Connectivity; Rebirth; Feeling "I am Home"; To fall in a Trance State; for Healing; to help form a Unified Consciousness for the New Earth.
To let go of the stresses of everyday life.
I've made really good friends.
The feeling that I am a part of a new paradigm
The communal ritual... the intense connection shared...
Why do I breathe? Why do birds call in the morning?
The feeling of the energy around you when you just know, by making eye contact with those around you, that they are feeling the exact same incredible vastness that you are.
To get away from the world, listen to sick music, take mind-altering drugs, and experience life, people and myself from a new and fresh perspective.
The music sweeps and dives through all your synapses, creating intense spiritual experiences
2. Does the music propel you to dance? How?
To Dance is to commune with the self, to Awaken and bring you back to Source.
Usually on-beat stomps in combination with hand movements going to the hats, SFX and synths.
The music just takes over!
The way the music builds up to an often epic sound.
I am a beat slut and any beat played loudly enough will propel me to dance.
Music that vibrates my body's frequencies so much I have to move my physical presence so I don't explode.
Watching others in their dance.
Like a massage you get while bungee jumping.
I find it really easy to dance without ever feeling judged
The energy I feel being created in my head extends to all of my extremities, igniting my consciousness.
I dance because i feel that i have to, because the music has integrated itself with my mind, which in turn controls my body, in order to instantaneously fill my mind and the surrounding atmosphere with purely positive energy and vibes.
When that certain frequency is generated, energy flows throughout my body and I can dance harder and longer than with any other type of music.
I don't try to, for lack of better words, "bust moves." I just feel the music, and I let it move me, take me over, put me in a higher state of personal conscious pleasure.
They are based in deeply-rooted historical dance music (tribal trance beats) that cause most people to groove.
3. Describe how you feel when you dance to psytrance.
Deeper then words, softer as wind can touch.
All tensions drop.
Love; Vibrancy; Geometric Patterns; Understanding and Reconnecting to the Cosmos / Nature; Re-Birth; Happiness; Contentment.
Euphoria.
Dissolution of the boundaries between body and mind, mind and sound:
A state of ecstasy. A synchronicity.
A brain massage and a massage on my soul.
A want to explode into fragments of light.
I have no control of my body and I look like it, too.
Absolute appreciation for my existence.
I am no longer human but a part of the cosmic vibration,
Comfort, bliss, vehemence,
Energized, excited, euphoric,
I used to feel euphoric and spiritual, but then I stopped taking those drugs...
Release. Healing. Joy.
Freedom, happiness, silliness, at one and connected to all things.
Transformation, Synchronicity, Life.
Part of a larger organism...
It leaves me glowing.
4. Describe your manner of dance, physically.
If I'm really tired a half-time stomp or just a wiggle.
A combination of "pop", "robot", and "liquid" styles.
A physical manifestation of the ebb and swell of energy in the room.
Hooping until I cannot keep it together and have to explode in chaotic dance.
A lot of stomping and hopping around, and usually my hands or fingers start making little squiggleys to all the layered sounds and zippers.
This stomp occasionally turns into a more aggressive bounce.
...my weight smoothly and naturally transferring to and from each foot.
I don't see myself so I'm unable to describe.
My body attempts to translate sound into movement.
I stomp, I flail, pump and twist my arms, I bounce around, I reach out and grab the sounds as they fly through the air.
I BOUNCE AROUND A LOT. A LOT
5. Is the dancing social in nature? How do you interact with the dancing bodies around you?
The soft but deep interaction with outside yourself, no competition and total peace.
Like-minded individuals who understand psytrance as a higher plane that takes you on a trip sometimes far, far away in your head and body.
I have no idea how I interact when I have been dancing more than 6 hours.
Even though I dance through crowds of people I am usually in a universe of my own.
A primitive form of interaction
We smile a knowing smile of how the music is making us feel than go back into our own little world and continue to dance, but feeling all the better for the unspoken sharing of positive energy and vibrations.
Something similar to ESP.
There is a mutual recognition of positive energy that only serves to increase it.
Some people you'll meet eyes and flail with them awhile, and other people you could smack in the head, and they won't give a second glance
Too many people think that grinding is dancing, that pill popping is the goal of the evening, that getting so drunk that memories are lost is the only way to happiness.
All private, unless I choose to share it with others.
I'm just so into the music that I lose any concept of the "other".
Where ALL *SYNC* up and become ONE Vibration.
Better stated as an "interaction of energies" as we share mindstates on the dancefloor
Interact on a non-physical level,
I can get creative in moving around them.
Sharing water and fruit,
We'll twirl around, spin, jump up and down together and be silly.
We are all out dancing for our own reasons, yet we have the music and atmosphere in common, like it was all meant to happen.
Applying Various Perspectives
The second part of my research consisted of an attempt to reignite a waning underground rave scene at Wesleyan, which I have participated in for the past two years. In articulating my motivations for throwing psytrance parties here at Wesleyan, I echo a statement from one of my survey respondents:
I hope that by providing psytrance to a few of the more open-minded students here, that I will be providing them an opportunity to truly discover themselves and the beauty of our planet through the music and the pure community that it carries.
My interesting and rewarding experiences with the trance "scene" this past summer in Boston and New York prompted me to bring the music and the mood back with me. I was met with unexpected challenges, however. By drawing from my experiences from this past summer in planning the parties, I was altering the ritualistic structure that had defined a more nostalgic time.
Through the lens of Emile Durkheim, Victor Turner, and Max Weber, McAteer discussed the psychedelic trance party as a ritual performed under the charisma of Goa Gil (often referred to as "the father of psychedelic trance"). This work was done in relation to trance parties in Goa, India, home of neo-hippy tranceheads and a well-established scene. The ritualistic nature of these parties transforms them into "religion", with Goa Gil described as the "charismatic ritual authority". Ecstatic spiritual experiences are frequent, and are induced through the communal trance sound and dance. The underground rave scene at Wesleyan was quite comparable: we too had our "Goa Gil" who sought to forge a spiritual phenomena he discovered in the perceived "authentic" rave scene in San Francisco. Authenticity was further solidified by the subversive manner through which we occupied and transformed space: our first rave was held in the forbidden underground tunnels of a university dorm. As time went on, we threw more raves, and the ritual was born.
I came to realize that my long-standing relationships with friends at Wesleyan are strikingly different from the temporal creations of space and sound experienced in a time and place that rendered social statuses invisible. Remembrances flooded my brain- my occasional distaste when the music became overly repetitive, monotonous, and lifeless; my frustration with the fact that many of the events I have attended cost me $20 or more; my anger at the inescapable presence of those who are just in it for the drugs; conversation overly fixated on the "legitimacy" of a party and those throwing it. In engaging in such discourse, the egalitarian, spontaneous, and structureless nature of trance parties is dissembled. This allows for the re-formation of the hierarchy of social status based on social and sub-cultural capital.
Perhaps this dissonance concerning issues of authenticity can be attributed to the usurping of counter-culture by mainstream audiences. In her book Club Cultures , Sarah Thornton points out the fine line between club cultures and subcultures, the latter of which is only made apparent through popularized (and often publicized) conceptions and categorizations. More recently, trance parties have come to replaces raves in the popular club scene, effectively empowering corporate and institutional intentions. As this trend has developed, I have witnessed an increase in the suspicion and criticism of trance parties that mirrors the previous discourse with regard to raves. Frustrated with this fixation on authenticity, I attempted to instigate a transformative experience by taking matters into my own hands.
Re-Creating the Experience
In asking for an "event analysis", you asked also that we refer to issues and readings from this class. Ironically, in response to this request I am reminded of Laurel Richardson's potent discussion regarding transgression in research: "References are authority moves; disruptions; invite the reader to disengage from the text, like answering the doorbell in the middle of a conversation." I have taken in this class like a breath that dances with my mind so fluidly. In attending dance events this semester, I found myself unable to reconcile my position in the audience, unable to empathize with and thus unable to fully comprehend what I was seeing. In participating in the dance, becoming one with the dance, I am able to describe experience in a manner that engages me and allows for better (but always partial) understanding. What follows is a descriptive analysis of my own dance event, which took place the weekend before Halloween.
***
My basement is dark and dingy, the perfect setting for a spooky Halloween dance party. In the corner, my friends DJ Hollow and DJ Manipulation have stationed their laptops, speakers projected outward into the cavernous dance space. Blacklights light the space, casting an eerie glow on the pale sheets we'd spraypainted only hours earlier. "Are we ready?" they ask, and I run upstairs. "Downstairs, now!" I holler, "get ready to dance your socks off!" Reluctantly, glancing at each other for guidance, they trickle downstairs. I watch eyes widen as we enter the basement. The beat begins as we start to hop around, smiling and energetic in our anticipation.
There are about fifteen of us in the basement in the beginning. The DJs have promised an evil, hard beat, and I wonder if we are all up for it. Unfortunately for some, I did not take it upon myself to provide drugs for the masses, and the environment is relatively sober. As the beat creeps upwards in intensity we begin to warm up, making eye contact and occasionally physical contact: hugs, kisses, squeezes, mutual bouncing about. We are friends. We have done this many times before.
From the onset, there is no audience/performer distinction. We are all performers, and we are all also observers. The trance dance incorporates the music and the surrounding atmosphere fluidly into the body, and this process combines yet further with flashing lights and an aura that borders on supernatural. Some, it would seem, are not used to this particular genre of electronic music, and I watch as they find new ways of moving. They are watching me as well, and the small cluster of those also stomping to the rhythm. There is perhaps no greater joy than finding this rhythm oneself, and discovering just how satisfying it is to stomp. A few remain confused, and observe quietly off to the side of the dance space with looks that vary between intense concentration and bemused smiles.
Dancing to psytrance is a very creative and spontaneous process, one that often involves "miming" the various sounds incorporated in the music (such as the "zipper"). The most common form of dance is coined the "stomp". Often, when the beat becomes particularly hard and fast, the dancer finds herself stomping to the beat, a rather aggressive and exhaustive act that is typically engaged with in fervor and joy. Gentler beats evoke description of "liquid" movements, in which one often moves like a snake, flowing and fluid. Still others simply bounce or hop, unable or unwilling to do anything more.
Though the dancers are equally male and female, there is none of the typical grinding and partner dancing that is normally found at college parties. Rather, we are each in our own spheres, allowing for increased spontaneity and more intense, violent movement. "The satisfaction," writes Bourguignon, "seems to be not only of solitary sex but also of a masochistic experience in contact with the music." This description quite aptly describes the intensity with which myself and my fellow dancers dance, for hours upon hours. Occasionally, we retreat to my bedroom upstairs (which has been converted into a squishy chill space) to rest amongst ambient music and conversation. This domain is headed by my boyfriend, who creates ambient electronica on his computer, and is accompanied by Miles playing flute and guitar intermittently. Eventually, as pleasant as this atmosphere is, those around me are drawn back downstairs.
Over the course of the night, friends come and go. At times, there are only four of us dancing. The dance space never exceeds twenty people. This worries me, and at several points throughout the night I dash upstairs to persuade those mingling in various parts of my house to come downstairs and dance. Some complain about the fumes from the spraypainted decorations that cover the walls. Others insist they need drugs to dance. Those of us who are used to all-night dance parties are able to maintain our energy even when completely sober, but we are a minority at this particular party.
I frequently found myself worried about the dance environment. Were enough people dancing? Were they loving it? Who was bringing negative energy into the space, and how could I make it better? My own expectations (a large crowd of deliriously happy dancers) and hopes were dampened. I did not provide drugs or alcohol, and their absence was repeatedly acknowledged. I wanted to believe that the beauty and magic of the psychedelic trance party could still occur unaided by psychedelics, and that the aura of love and community I had felt at past events could easily be transferred to my own home turf.
Many an unknowing freshman wandered into my home that night, and with wide eyes attempted to grind with my fellow stompers. My kitchen became infested with an unruly group of people I did not know, who had taken it upon themselves to "contribute" large amounts of alcohol to the event (I was not a fan). They were not turned away, but nevertheless their presence created a sense of "otherness" in those familiar with and enthusiastic about the ambience, as I discovered afterwards in my conversations with those present at the party. It is an experience that requires an open mind and the capacity to engage with the music and dance un-self-consciously, as well as the personal motivation to seek out such experiences.
Reflections
Upon numerous conversations with my fellow psytrance lovers, the realization came to me that the power of the trance dance experience cannot simply be transferred; it has to happen somewhat spontaneously and in conjunction with the values and ideals of the community in question. These attributes mirror those of communitas , as proposed by Victor Turner, in which a ritual transition spontaneously induces an intense sense of intimacy between people. Propelled together toward a common quest for transcendence, such communitas elude societal roles, occurring in the spaces in which the social structure is temporarily ruptured. Such an energy cannot simply be replicated, it has occur spontaneously.
My own close engagement with trance dance experiences requires a closer engagement as a "researcher", and I demand of myself to literally find again that which drew me to these sorts of experiences in the first place. Seeking to return to that from which it all began, my friends and I have jointly planned another party drawing upon the established ritual of the underground rave scene at Wesleyan. Personalized invitations, a map point, all-out decorations, a tight-knit crew of people who love to dance- these are the factors I had been disregarding in my attempts to "bring psytrance to Wesleyan". This event is scheduled for next week, to be accompanied by a rather talented DJ and friend. I wish to once again be pulled into a transcendent interaction with people who care to dance with one another. At Wesleyan this happens in a unique way that I had previously failed to take into account, and it happens best through cooperative effort. As one friend described:
Sometimes we need to be reminded that we are expressive and caring individuals by throwing events like these. There's a symbiotic relationship between the giver and the taker. Everyone wins.
Works Consulted
Bourguignon, Erika. "Trance Dance." Dance Perspectives 3 Sept.-Nov: 1968: 8-61.
Brewster, Bill, and Frank Broughton. Last Night a DJ Saved My Life: The History of the Disc Jockey. New York: Grove Press, 1999.
McAteer, Michael B. (2002). 'Redefining the Ancient Tribal Ritual for the 21st Century:' Goa Gil and the Trance Dance Experience. May 2002. Reed College. 15 Nov. 2006.
Richardson, Laurel. "Poetic Representation, Ethnographic Presentation and Transgressive Validity: The Case of the Skipped Line." The Sociological Quarterly 34.4 (November, 1993), 695-710.
Rouget, Gilbert. Music and Trance: A Theory of the Relations Between Music and Possession . Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1985.
Thornton, Sarah. Club Cultures. Hanover and London: University Press of New England, 1996.
Turner, Victor. "Liminality and Communitas." The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. Chicago: Aldine Publishing Co., 1969.
McAteer, Michael Belden. (2002). "Redefining the Ancient Tribal Ritual for the 21 st Century:" Goa Gil and the Trance Dance Experience.
Richardson, Laurel. The Case of the Skipped Line (653).
© Jenny Ryan, 2006.