How Electronic Music Makes Me More Me
Returning to conscious culture.
The first time I heard The Chemical Brothers was a revelation. It was exactly what I was looking for — only I didn’t know I was looking for it. The music sounded so fresh and so new. It captivated my attention, took over my body, and soothed my soul.
As I got into electronic music, I started to understand its hold on me. Sure, it’s associated with hedonism, and that’s partially what drew me. (Who doesn’t want to have fun?!) The genre coaxed me from my shell-ter. Now the wallflower at weddings and other social gatherings could at least move her limbs and look like she was having a good time…because she was!
The beats handled any self-consciousness by throwing it to the side like a discarded jacket. Dark rooms gave assurances that no one was watching and no one cared. Pretty lights created a warm glow. Strangers got sweaty together and didn’t mind a little messiness. The past didn’t matter and the future could wait. We found our flow, and we never wanted it to end.
Once you get a taste of that, it’s hard not to seek it again and again. I’m a proud citizen of One Nation Under God Is a DJ, and my passport is full of stamps from Clubland.
Many times this appreciation for electronic music has given me tools I felt I didn’t have before. (Jury’s out on whether that includes dancing lol.) I’m talking about points of conversation and commonality. My favorite example is talking to rideshare drivers of vastly different demographics and backgrounds about exciting artists and shows. I can leave the car feeling like I’ve made a new friend. One time, the driver parked his car and came to a show with us. We had fun.
I’m noticing a pattern that I previously took for granted:
- the tireless hunt for what resonates in my heart,
- the visceral experience of it in my body,
- the way it connects me to others,
- a desire to spend time and resources to continue the loop
When I try to unpack why I’m only appreciating this cycle now, I think about the importance of conscious culture (and how I may have lost my way). Looking up what each of those words means literally — conscious + culture — you get “aware and awake in the arts.”
Hmm. Sounds like the opposite of how I’ve operated for the last decade, with my mindless scrolling and algorithmic spoon-feeding. I used to write record reviews, listen to albums from start to finish (and savor the liner notes!), go to sites like Pitchfork (RIP), and subscribe to print magazines like SPIN and NME. I would go to Barnes & Noble and look at the staff picks. I didn’t have Instagram to find out set times so I was more likely to experience opening acts I didn’t know. What happened to all that?
I became a passive consumer of culture, content with serendipity and snippets. I outsourced the hunt. I let culture be picked for me instead of by me.
Buoyed by Kyle Chayka’s “Filterworld,” I’m waking up. I have more agency than I think! I’m trying to drop into what resonates with me — like the Chems did back when — and I’m creating systems and rituals to feed that desire. (My Substack is devoted to cool people who already do this.) I’m learning and honing my taste and seeing how it makes me more me.
I get such a kick when this passion creates new relationships and deepens old ones. We share a love language and, if we’re lucky, we find communion on the dancefloor too.
