Last Night a DJ Saved My Soul
Jan 10, 2018 — Minneapolis
UK’s Cody Currie, with Jeff Swiff & Christian James
At a time when the world seems to be crumbling around us and our political climate is fueled by corruption and bigotry, there’s nothing I crave more than the feeling of love that unites our community. What is it about deep, hard hitting beats that move our bodies and unite our souls? After an incredible throw down of house music last weekend at ‘House Proud,’ I feel empowered. The Minneapolis electronic music scene has been integral to my life and sanity in endless ways over the last 22 years. Each time I go out, I feel inspired by the energy and vibes that surround me. The mechanical, undying beats feed by soul and nourish by body in ways that are difficult to pinpoint. We have a community here in Minneapolis that is strong and vibrant. It’s one that keeps me grounded it more ways than one.
1996 — The Underground Rave Scene
With my bellbottoms dusting the earth below me, I first entered the rave scene in 1996. During this time, I felt lost and like many high school students, I felt like I didn’t fit in. The evening I attended my first rave, I was instantly hooked. Like a drug that consumed all my thoughts, I wanted more. At each rave, I’d collect flyers for all the upcoming parties- I’d place them in a hat box that I stored under my bed and wait impatiently, thinking and dreaming about the next one to come. Now this was the 1990's, a time when the Midwest electronic music was truly underground. Each of those flyers was a lifeline for me — each provided a reason to keep getting out of bed.
My Lifeline: Late 90’s, MPLS, MN
Every Saturday we’d load up a car with four or more friends and make the 30 minute drive from White Bear Lake to a Minneapolis store near Lake St. and Lyndale, where we’d pick up our tickets. The little piece of attached paper that came with our ticket stubs was gold. It would read something like, “from the front door of this location, go left, then go left at the first light, then take the first highway entrance heading west, get off the at such and such exit.”
Tricknology Directions: Late 90’s, MPLS, MN
Eventually after having just been in the car another 20 minutes to 2 hours, we’d end up at an armory, a foundry, a roller rink, or a school gym. Oftentimes we’d land at a dilapidated, abandoned 6 story warehouse (my personal favorite) boasting broken windows and grimy floors. You’d know you’d arrived by the line of ravers that circled the building, each eagerly waiting to get inside their own personal haven. It was an escape zone for so many of us, for inside, each of use belonged. Each of us fit in. Each of us respected and cared for each other in way that sometimes seems hard to come by. The community was made by kids for kids. It was everyone’s job to keep the scene underground. This unspoken, yet shared responsibility was known throughout rave culture and widely respected. Police, adults and authority figures were not welcomed. Each weekend, thousands upon thousands of misunderstood, misread, loaner teens took hold of this scene and together, we made it our own.
After waiting in line for a short while or perhaps another two hours, you’d get to the entrance. There, some bony guy with a black stocking cap would shine his black mini flashlight, wristband you and move you inside. When you turned that first corner, the room pulsed, rotating light beams in red, blue, green and yellow infiltrated the warehouses while rhythmic beats took over your mind and body. Glow sticks, cigarette butts and fat pants made their way across the hazy, grimy floor. Smoke and sweat joined forces and we all moved independently and yet, as one community united. From there, dance took over and we moved to the high and low beats, an intentional ride guided mindfully by the DJ. At the end of the night, you’d be crazy sweaty, super stinky and fully satiated. You’d feel like it was the best rave you’d ever experienced, and an experience it was.
If the party got busted, everyone would vacate, and they’d move fast. Typically, someone would see the uniforms on their way in and call “cops” or “police… everybody out… everybody out!” prompting us to frantically search out our things and get the hell out. Kids who ran at warped speed without hesitation likely carried illegal drugs or maybe had a police record they were hoping not to build on. I recall blowing my nose after parties, always to find thick layers of dirt that arose from the filthy floors and walls that surrounded us. I’ve always believed that ravers are the hippies of our generation.
Now at this point in my life in the mid ’90s, depression had hit me like a ton of bricks. It clouded even the sunniest of days. It clouded my vision, my feelings, my perspective on the future and the world around me. I felt angry at my parents, angry at my teachers, upset with people I hardly even knew and yet I had no clue why. Very little could pull me from that deep, dark hole, but this little underground scene that I called home, did that for me. However fleeting, when I was dancing, moving in rhythm with my peers, I felt ever connected to a community that I finally belonged to.
Present Time — A Reflection of PLUR
Kid Representing at a J Philp New Year’s Eve Techno Show: 2014, Chicago, IL
For those who didn’t live it firsthand, PLUR is raver code: Peace. Love. Unity. Respect. To this day, I cannot imagine a better mantra for my life. PLUR represents how I choose to live each day, how I aim to treat those around me and how I treat myself.
I’ve heard my community say — and I totally relate , that electronic music is our church. It’s what soothes our souls, while keeping us on track and coming back for more. It makes perfect sense when you think about Communion, a weekly summer Sunday funday favorite held in downtown Minneapolis. Written up by Citypages, the event was described as “The Twin Cities’ best summer dance party, [that] never misses a beat.”
Every time I move to electronic music, I know that I am not alone. Last weekend, under Minneapolis’s dim basement lights at Honey, ‘House Proud’ delivered raw talent, amazing vibes and most of all, an unforgettable experience. With intermittent lyrics like, “last night a dj saved my life,” I can relate. Originally created for Indeep, “Last Night a DJ Saved My Life” never fails to make your body move. Because regardless of the struggles that may have plagued you when you first walked through the door, those worries dissipate on the dance floor as new inspiration fuels your mind.
UK DJ Cody Currie & Minneapolis DJ Christian James: Jan. 2018 at Honey, MPLS, MN
Here in Minneapolis, our electronic music scene is beautifully diverse — we come in all colors, shapes and sizes, genders, young and old, from all walks of life. This scene is created by individuals who come together to create our shared community. Minneapolis electronic music scene, you forever have my heart.
In response to bringing the UK’s Cody Currie (who killed it) last weekend, local DJ Jeff Swiff posted, “THANK YOU to everyone who rocked with us tonight. This dude is such a legend and y’all kicked some super-serious vibes. We live for these nights and this music… Your love of this thing always brings us back together and it always feels amazing. Thanks for welcoming new and exciting talent to this city and showing them what the Midwest is all about.” On that I wish note, I wish you all peace, love, unity and respect. I hope you find a community as closely knit as ours, that revives your spirit and saves your soul.
