Context: I first wrote this towards then end of 2011. I had spent the last decade heavily immersed in the UK free party scene, but had left to go travelling at the end of 2010. I wrote this in a small ski town in the South Island of New Zealand. The experiences and emotions that I went through in those years had played on my mind a lot since leaving. I feel like the time spent travelling away from it all gave me time to reflect and contemplate those years.
I was reading through an anthology of Hunter Thompsons works at the time, reading the high water mark passage the night before and going to work thinking about it all day. I gradually thought of more and more points relevant to the free party movement throughout the day and as soon as I got home I started writing and finished the below passage in a single sitting. All the subsequent blogs/ stories I wrote on illegal raves after this took me weeks of editing, rewriting and moving passages around, but this pretty much came to me in one hit. It was meant to be me making peace with what we all went through and my feelings towards it so that I could let go and get on with my life. That peace never entirely came and every few years I seem to go through periods of retrospection and nostalgia for those years, almost like some kind of yearning of a past life lived and eventually lost. It’s still an odd set of emotions I feel for it all now, 20 years later. A mixture of elation and wonder, mixed with something almost equivalent to grief or loss. Anyway, this is the passage as I initially wrote it. It was only really ever intended for myself and a few of the people around at the time, but it seemed to pick up widespread support from a range of people, which motivated me to write much more detailed stories of my experiences through these times in later blogs. Whilst my plan is to completely re-write these later blogs and significantly expand them, I wanted to leave this original piece exactly how I wrote it the first time around. Enjoy:
What follows here are my interpretations of a famous quote by Hunter Thompson, written in 1972, detailing his views on the counter-cultural hippie revolution of San Francisco in the mid-sixties. This is an era that fascinates the hell out of me and I've read numerous stories, biographies and accounts of this period. But what struck me when I first read this passage is how it manages to capture the essence and the feeling of the period that many of us went through with Norfolk raves of the early 2000’s.
The quote in question is Thompsons “high water mark” speech from 'Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas'. Ignoring the passages that are specifically related to San Francisco, I feel that the words describe the movement of any break from mainstream culture extremely well. From the hippies of the sixties, to the punks of the 70s, the early acid house ravers of the 80s, and to our own, albeit much smaller, free party scene of the 2000s. Im sure that each of these groups can relate to some of the sentiment and ideals portrayed in these words. Here is the original quote in its entirety:
“Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era—the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run . . . but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant. . . .
History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of “history” it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time—and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.
My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights—or very early mornings—when I left the Fillmore half-crazy and, instead of going home, aimed the big 650 Lightning across the Bay Bridge at a hundred miles an hour wearing L. L. Bean shorts and a Butte sheepherder's jacket . . . booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmond, not quite sure which turn-off to take when I got to the other end (always stalling at the toll-gate, too twisted to find neutral while I fumbled for change) . . . but being absolutely certain that no matter which way I went I would come to a place where people were just as high and wild as I was: No doubt at all about that. . . .
There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. . . .
And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . .
So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Reading this brought back a lot of memories and feelings from those early days of rave and the thought of how lucky we were to have been at the forefront of a movement as momentous as it was. Not to have merely seen and observed it, but to have been an integral part of it, there in the thick of the thing, creating it as it happened. Living in that moment.
The phrase “parties aren’t as good as they used to be” is much overused in and around Norfolk. It's a very vague statement that doesn't explain a lot to people who werent there. It’s a common thing for people to look back upon times when new experiences were fresh to them and conclude that the experiences of today clearly aren’t as good as the ones they knew from younger times. But I think in our scenario, this really was the case.
“no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world.”
Even to people who caught the tail end, there's no amount of photos, video footage or mix sets that can explain to anyone exactly why those times were so exceptional. Even if you were there, looking back on it all now, you still cannot put your finger on exactly what was so special about it, you’re just left with that sense, that warm, content glow of knowing that you were there for it, and a part of it, “alive in that corner of time and the world”. It wasn’t just those parties, but the whole mind-set and feeling around the time that made it so special. The whole throb and the hum around the various squats, the increasing energy, size and buzz of each party, the obvious and uncontrollable excitement at the thought of the weekend on the faces of people you met in the week, the early confrontations with police that were fought and won. Everything felt so fresh, new and exciting.
“every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash” .
It seemed that every person who was around at that point in time, in that generation was on the same level, had the same ideals and was heading in the same direction. Obviously we all had our own backgrounds and positions in life, but those parties and that way of life unified all those individuals under something we could ALL relate to. It may not have been an entire social generation, but im sure that to those affected by it, the meaning was every bit as poignant as it was to those early cultural pioneers of the mid sixties. Not just to those who were as heavily involved as the lucky few of us, but to everyone who attended, they wernt just “another party”. This is where it was at, this was the here and now, the direction we should all be going, and everyone felt it.
“There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. . .”
What we were doing with those early parties was so far from the normalities of regular law and society, but felt so right at the same time. Like everybody should be doing it. And for a large time it really did feel like we were winning; every week the parties got bigger and better and the momentum, the energy, that universal sense of right spread through everyone involved.
“And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . .”
For a time, it felt like we were unstoppable. A collective army of peace loving, free spirited individuals who just wanted the simple pleasures of dancing freely and in unison, in our own cultural and spiritual society, and would stop at nothing in their quest to obtain it. “That sense of inevitable victory over the forces of old and evil”; it was inevitable at that point, every time, we would find that way of achieving our goal and make that party available to the masses, no matter what the forces of old and evil would throw at us, we would simply prevail. Our momentum could never be stopped.
“My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights”
My central memory now, or at least my most vivid memories, are of those high energy times of confrontation when we won. Ironically, at the time it wasn’t about fighting at all, I think every person who was there was in it to get away from any kind of a fight. But the times when the fight was brought to us and we prevailed, those are the times I look back on with the most admiration now. To the 80 or so people who un-hitched that 2 ton generator and pushed it along the main coastal road of north Norfolk on a beautiful summers morning at 5am, cheering and shouting, stopping at nothing or for no one, past dumb-founded, helpless police officers and around police cars, eventually hooking it up to a waiting sound system bigger than an average house, and partying on the cliff tops of north Norfolk for 4 days. A high such as this must be firmly ingrained on the collective minds and memories for every one of those people who were there and a part of it. As must be the memories of those who were in that wooded quarry in Rushford, manically throwing together a soundsystem under the high powered floodlights of a hovering police helicopter. Being told over loudspeaker that we were “breaking the law” and “ordered under section 63 to leave this land” but carrying on regardless, relentless in the quest to get that party up and running. The contrast of tense nervousness at hearing reports of people walking in past vans of riot police kitting up, getting ready for battle; then the universal elation and uproar as that first beat hammered home and 400 people piled into that heaving stack; fists raised, cheering ecstatically, united together, gazing defiantly into the searchlights of that hovering helicopter; “Riding the crest of that high and beautiful wave”; sensing, knowing, that we had won. We had prevailed.
The momentum was truly extraordinary, almost unbelievable. It seems bizarre, almost fictitious, to think that over 100 of us silently strolled into the main police headquarters of Norwich and sat down peacefully, cross legged, and demanded the return of our sound system. A sound system that had been seized only a few weeks earlier in a massive police operation involving 100s of riot police, attack dogs, CS spray and wide spread media coverage. For 100 people to walk peacefully into a police station with the firm intention of simply being handed this equipment back, no questions asked, and then, 2 hours later, for the police to hand it straight back is a true testament to the momentum we had.
The love and dedication of those people, the same people who were part of that last, futile stand against the riot police and sat on top of those speakers in that warehouse in Norwich, arms linked until we were inevitably physically ripped and beaten from them. The passion and feeling was an almighty thing, an unquestionable devotion. If you were one of those people, as I was, I'm sure that "sense of knowing you were there, alive in that corner of time and the world", and that you made that stand, is as special and unique in your mind as it is in mine.
These truly were different times “the kind of peak that never comes again”. It was an almighty peak, but unfortunately, still just a peak. As with the early pioneers around Berkley and San Franscisco in the sixties, what seemed so righteous and certain to continue escalating at the time eventually tailed off and lost its momentum. In both their case and ours; the bubble burst, we lost, “the wave finally broke and rolled back”. Although it did ultimately and inevitably end, and mistakes were undoubtedly made, for those involved, in the end, it wasn’t about whether we were right or wrong, whether we won or lost, what remains important is the journey. The ride. I mean, to have seen the whole thing through in it's entirety, from it's tiny beginnings dancing around a car stereo with decks set up on the bonnet, to the start of the movement and the momentum when every party, every week got bigger and bigger, better and better; to the hedonistic peak of the Cringleford squat and the nationally renowned and highly respected parties; the highs and lows of police confrontation; to the breaking of the momentum and finally the disaster that signified the end of it all. If you were there to witness all of that, you shouldn’t be rueing the fact that it ended; you should be praising the fact that you were there at all. To be a part of that movement, that generation, that peak; where we were the energy, we were the momentum; we rode the crest of that high and beautiful wave, and man, what a ride it was. If you were a part of that ride, you were all part of a legacy that will never be forgotten to those it touched.
It may have occurred on a much smaller, localised scale, but I fully believe that Norfolk in the early 2000’s was indeed one of those very special times and corners of the world to be in. and I couldn’t be any more proud and honoured to have been a part of it. To have been part of that counter culture and have gone through those crazy, mental experiences is a life defining thing and is more important to me than any travelling experience I have gained. I've travelled many countries and met people from all over the world in the last few years but it seems that everyone has been to largely the same places. The classic destinations of New Zealand, Australia, Thailand, India, it seems that the majority of people I meet have been to at least 3 of these places. Some people are more adventurous than others and have done more extreme things, but the places are near enough the same. Travelling is really quite mainstream. But to have been a part of an underground, counter-cultural movement, organizing some of the largest illegal raves that the East of England has ever seen, is an unparalleled and unique life experience.
This isn’t to take anything from the wonder that is world wide travel. Whilst it may have been a special time and place, the world is a hell of a lot bigger than Norfolk. And as good as those times were, without that movement, there isn’t a great deal else to be seen in Norfolk. Its nice, in a non-offensive, mundane kind of way. But this world is such a wonderful and awe-inspiring place and the different cultures of people in it are all so interesting and fascinating in their own way. Part of me wishes that we had all collectively called it a day on new years eve 2006 and all roamed the world together.
I don’t know if “the kind of peak that never comes again” is entirely accurate. I think the punks of the 70s, ravers of the 80s and 2000s have proven that it does come again. Each peak has its own unique characteristics and ideals but I think to those involved the feelings of energy, righteousness and momentum remain the same. Then it got me to thinking; behind each movement is the undeniable undertone of drug culture. The hippies had their LSD, the punks their amphetamine and the ravers their ecstacy. It always seems that there is a (or many) drug(s) driving each movement. Were all of those feelings just due to drugs? Were we simply a bunch of wild eyed, idealistic, drug crazy hippies? In my mind, I have no doubt that we were. But to simply pass off entire countercultural movements as one collective drug-altered psychological state? Of that I'm not so sure. If this were the case then one of my least favourite phrases of the last few years of parties would be true: “Ketamine killed the rave scene.” It seems ridiculous that the advent of one single, solitary drug into the party scene could instantly slam the brakes on and stop that momentum we had built up over the last few years. If this is the case, then perhaps it was all about the drugs all along. I have my doubts. I don’t think ketamine can be singled out as causing the demise of the scene we knew and loved, in the same way that I don’t think that party in Great Yarmouth can. I think both played their part, but in my view no one thing can be blamed solitarily. I think it was due more to a general shift in the motives and ideals of people attending. I think one of the most damaging things to it was the fact that every man and his dog seemed to suddenly have their very own turbosound rig. The parties seemed to lose the unification and cohesion they had in those early days when there were just a small handful of sound systems. Every party became “just another party”. Everyone seemed to be heading in their own directions and doing their own thing, a feeling of dissociation prevailed, coupled with the dissociative effects of ketamine and nitrous oxide there just didn’t seem to be that passion and love for it any more. I think the people who originally gave that devotion, that love and that energy to it either moved on or lost that buzz and the progressive generations that took their place misunderstood the original message. It's not about who's got a rig that can make your ears bleed, but about people coming together for the genuine love of doing it.
I won't talk any longer on the reasons behind its demise as it's something which doesn’t deserve too much thought. What remains important is the legacy that scene left. Despite the talk of how special these times were, I still haven't even mentioned the one thing which made these particular parties unique from even the raves of the 80s and 90s: the stack. Or mosh, or whatever you'd like to call it. Sure moshing technically started with the punk rockers, but I think it was taken to a new level when combined with uplifting dance music. The feeling of being in that stack is the main driving force behind everything for me. More so than any feeling of being part of a countercultural movement or against the grain of society or in a place of relative peace and harmony; the buzz and energy of that stack is something else. Since leaving England I've attempted every adrenalin sport that’s come my way. All of them provide a hefty hit of adrenalin and endorphins but nothing quite hits that high like getting into a heaving stack to a tune you love and just losing yourself in that moment. The combination of all that collective energy and movement of every person in there, the endorphins produced by the physical exertion, the excitement and mental uplift of being in there to a tune you love and the fact that you can see that exact love and feeling on the face of every other person in that same moment. It truly is a powerful thing. Without it I don’t think the pull of these parties would have been so great for me. Being on the other side of the world has made me realise how lucky we were to have such an amazing yet completely natural buzz on tap for free every single weekend. You’re never going to find quite that same buzz anywhere else. This is the thing I miss the most. I crave just one more stack. But know that im not going to be finding it any time soon.
Perhaps these are just the nostalgic, romanticised sentiments of an old boy who's prime time in life has passed. But right now I feel happier, healthier, wiser, more confident and love life more than I ever did back then. I feel that if that peak were to arise again I would be a in a far better position to enjoy it and make the most of it. But I can still look back on it now and appreciate what undeniably exciting times those were. I'd also like to remind anyone who ever does end up reading this that I am by no means a spiritual person. I am a man of cold, hard science who managed to somehow and rather miraculously bumble his way through a degree in chemical physics right in the midst of the time period mentioned. This is a subject about as far removed from spirituality as you could possibly get and it is extremely rare to hear me mention the word “energy” in such context when it is not immediately proceeded by the words “kinetic”, “potential” or “gravitational”. But reading that passage by Hunter Thompson and looking back on it now from my vantage point on the complete opposite side of the world, there’s no denying what I felt or what happened. Those truly were times of the highest energy and I will always look back upon them with nothing but respect, admiration and a great sense of the highest contentment at knowing, simply knowing, that I was there, "alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant..." I hope that everyone involved appreciates it as much as I do.
(This is originally where this post ended. I only really intended this to be read by people who were around at that time, but it was picked up by a large number of people, a lot of whom never went to free parties. Just for further clarification of what I am talking when I mention “the stack, or mosh”, I would like to link to the following video. Whilst I have a large number of videos from these parties up on YouTube (available to view here if you are interested: Norfolk rave videos) , I like the way this one is edited into a montage of clips and the fact that this tune and video was made by someone who was heavily involved in the scene at the time. Whilst I intend to go over in a later blog the story behind the news report sample and rave which inspired it, for now it just remains a good example of the high energy dance vibes that were synonymous with these parties)
