Rave culture: escapism from and protest against a Tory-led Britain

Historically, the rave has always been an event of resistance against authority.

Beginning in the 1980's, rave culture in Britain was originally birthed as a remedy for the misery caused by the Thatcherite government. It was a place for everyone, breeching the barriers between different groups and often resulting in an environment where socio-politics were left at the door. Raves historically allowed people to give in to the urges which mainstream society aimed to control and suppress: drugs, sex, music, dancing, and the absence of a need for authority or leadership.

The socially free nature of raves as they existed in the late eighties and nineties meant that they posed a threat to government powers and power structures. Unlike the power structures within the political system which favoured the rich and privileged, the rave scene encouraged equality and a duty of care between and for all members. There were no leaders, and often not even an official host as raves were held in public spaces such as fields, warehouses, or garages (which is how genres such as house and garage were given their names) and yet the emphasis on mutual care was stronger than ever, as voluntary security and medical aids were always on hand to ensure the safety of the ravers.

In the nineties, Thatcher's government passed several laws to make raves almost impossible to be held, such as the 1994 Criminal Justice Act which prohibited ‘sounds wholly or predominately characterized by the emission of a succession of repetitive beats’, and police violence was used heavily and commonly. Whilst this was intended to stop rave culture in its tracks, it only made the feeling of need for protest and uprising even stronger.

Rave culture such as this saw a resurgence in 2021 in the form of protest against COVID restrictions. One example of this was the #FreedomToDance march in London supporting #SaveOurScene, in which a rave broke out in the streets of London to support the reopening of clubs, theatres, and arts and hospitality venues. The delay in reopening these industries affected not only those who worked within them, but also people nationwide who both benefitted from them as hobbies and enjoyed them as an integral aspect of British culture. With the arts already being a sector in which workers are paid notoriously little, this felt like a major blow to those who relied on the arts and hospitality industry to make a living, exhibiting once more the Tory party's disregard for those in lower-income brackets. And of course, this feeling was only to be exacerbated as almost a year later we would learn that the government didn't need clubs and bars to reopen in order to have a few parties of their own...

In this way, it makes sense why the spark of rebellious British rave culture was reignited in light of COVID-19, and the government’s response to it; we need art, culture, and socialisation, and the #FreedomToDance march proved just how much. Between protests, considerable uproar online, and even the membership of Andrew Lloyd Webber – who is as far from a stereotypical raving rebel as an opera writer can be – and his statement that he was ‘prepared to be arrested’ over the further delayed reopening of the arts and entertainment industries, there was a sense of community behind #SaveOurScene which could not be silenced.

In conclusion, in the case of rave music, it is not the lyrics of this genre which label it as powerfully leftist, but rather its historical connotations. I can’t help but view public responses to COVID restrictions  as in direct parallel with the original rave culture as it existed in the 80’s. Ultimately, both seem to share the same underlying feeling: when the government are failing you, you make sure more than ever to look after one another.