Less of a story - more of an introduction.

A Story by gloriarosyposy

Hi there, I'm making a publication on EDM/rave culture and this is the first page/my intro of the magazine. Sorry if this is in the wrong place.

Here’s the thing. I would never call myself a “raver”. I can count the number of big EDM festivals I’ve been to on one finger, I hardly drink or do drugs, and when it comes to music, my heart has and always will be in the late 2000’s - bopping along with the 12 year old me to Justin Timberlake’s greatest hits. That being said - when I think of all my friends who rave like it’s their religion, I admit I occasionally get flashes of a version of me that stocks up on spirit hoods, rainbow fishnets, and owns a collection of crystals to recharge my chakra after sleepless rave nights. But this isn’t me. It’s not because I don’t attend raves or listen to EDM, and it’s not because of the implications of being associated with the word “raver” - but it’s because I don’t know if you can quantify who is and who isn’t part of a culture based on how much cultural merch they wear, or how they practice spirituality.

That - and I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone at a rave who self-identifies as a raver.

Eight years ago - around the time I had all the lyrics to “Sexyback” memorized, I had also made a playlist filled with music from the likes of Skrillex, Daft Punk, and Benny Benassi. I didn’t know it at the time, but they were my introduction to EDM. I think Satisfaction introduced everyone to buttons they’d never realized could be pushed.

However, as quickly as I fell in love with the weird, bouncy style of music - I forced myself to fall out of love.

Despite only listening to them in the privacy of my bedroom, my older brother would hear me playing them and tease me for “listening to robots doing it”. I wish I could say that that 12 year old me flipped him the bird and told him to “f**k off!” but I was a hormonal, insecure teen hardwired with the constant craving of approval. So I buried the basshead part of me, and threw whatever self-respect I had alongside in the grave.

Why do we stop doing the things we love?

How many of you grew up and stopped writing poetry - and making art? Do we stop out of practicality? Social pressure? - and how many of us feel that because we were unsuccessful with things we used to love - that it’s too late to learn to love something new? Eight years later and I’m only now learning to love a whole genre of music again.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Everyone who loves something wasn’t born loving it.

F**k if I’d ever admit I learned something from anyone but myself - but if my time in Kelowna with the friends I made in highschool ever taught me anything, it was that my friends taught me it was okay to be weird when everyone else was trying to learn to fit in.

Which is firstly; a fundamental mindset to adapt if you want to learn to love anything or want to try new things; and secondly; - why I’m such a big fan of raves and the rave culture and the community that exists in Kelowna and extends all over Canada.

We’re all just a bunch of f*****g weirdos who love music, and love to have a good time.