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In 2023, AJ (aka Alusine AJ Talloh), threw a weekly dancing pregame in Little Italy. He had plenty of friends who loved to party hop till dawn, and, like a good Brooklynite, he knew fantastic DJs too.

At first, each night was BYOB. He cut costs, inviting just the group chat. Shoes lined up outside. House party energy in a club-size space. The best of nightlife’s familiarity and novelty.

AJ was intentional, developing a core fanbase who brought the energy and consistent artist lineups that kept them hyped. In the span of one season, he pushed capacity: ravers and regulars were staying all night, sacrificing their entire weekend to No Type functions. Watching New Yorkers cancel their next stop, AJ knew he’d struck gold.

Today, he’s been crowned the god of the East Coast house party (as Austin Millz says). How does a host go from pulling up with a few friends to promoting dates from Brooklyn to Miami? Between ragers and running the NYC marathon, AJ spared some time at Nyla House cafe to tell us how it’s done.

AJ is amped arriving at Nyla. He’s just ran the Brooklyn Bridge. Yesterday, he hosted a six-hour day party in DC and travelled overnight back to NYC, during which he squeezed in his day job, interspersed with party prep. Tonight, he’s hosting a multi-genre music experience at Elsewhere.

He shows me some promo footage from the last time he hosted there. He’s not filming in the background: he’s front and center with a mic, helming a pyramid of dancers like a Christmas tree topper, ornamented by strobe lights and bubbles.

Today, he doesn’t even seem drowsy. I walked for a bus transfer and called it exercise. He manages all of this, on top of his full personal life: how?

*AJ’s Party’ Proficency, Point by Point*

I. Everyone carries weight, from attendees to entertainment.

First question to consider: what is the nightlife experience you dream about? Your choice will determine every decision to follow. AJ’s dream was “no R&B and nothing slow,” which lead him to features like DJ Mohogany, Moochie, El Fennec, kenDollaz, and Classic New Wave: all great friends of his and and even better DJs. At first, talent and professionalism are all the host expects from their artists. But growth is a game. To expand his reach, they need to carry their own crowd weight. His DJs bring their own following.

AJ leveraged multiple communities to build a growing party series without an initial crowd. People come to see DJs they know, along with a few new faces to discover. Apply the same logic to designing the crowd: familiar and new faces, every time. Invite your circle consistently, and encourage them to bring along their own. Make your event a place to reconnect on the regular.

II. Help partiers convince the group chat.

Parties are propelled by friends. People go where they know someone, whether on the stage or in the crowd.

AJ tries to be that someone for as many attendees as he can. He checks Instagram to see how many mutuals someone has with him for potential invites and, after the function, thanks people individually to build connections that bring people back for the next event. At a higher level, the someone could be the name on people’s lips as they spread word of the function: a killer venue like Damballa can be that name, or a world-touring act like Miss Monroe.

When did AJ know he’d caught “lightning in a bottle” with No Type? Watching plus-ones cancel their next plans.

III. Stationary energy shouldn’t survive the dance floor.

Crowds make moments out of the space they’re given. There’s a time and place for standing around and talking, but the dance floor is not such a place. People have to move.

How do you create energy that people can move through? That will depend on your venue, but make sure you’ve attended events there before. Don’t be afraid to reach out to hosts who have thrown events at your potential venue and get their tips and tricks. Contrary to popular rhetoric, the nightlife family can be incredibly welcoming. Some ideas below:

• Immerse the DJ in the crowd, rather than squeezing them and their friends up against a wall.

• Offer plush spots to rest with friends.

• Design lighting intentionally.

• Interactive elements make a space memorable.

How will people know they’ve arrived at a signature you party? Since attendees will, ideally, take and post photos, ensure every shot stands out as your event, not just any night out.

IV. Details are everything.

“I carry a bubble gun everywhere,” AJ tells me, dead serious. Emulate this with details you love.

One of my favorite examples of “cherry on top” venue details is the free infused water and incense at Paragon. They’re thoughtful, fun, something that shows they put in extra thought. Don’t lean too much on one schtick, though. Tariffs are hitting bubbles pretty hard.

AJ pushes the envelope, covering all his bases with a tailored touch: his NYC, DC and Miami parties are a marriage between his own vision and the unique vibe of a city he loves. Every spot has different stories that get incorporated.

Don’t settle for the classic club experience: your unique spin on the night out will keep the people coming back.

V. Never undervalue a talented videographer.

Visuals are everything. AJ posts many short videos, consistently over several months for a weekly party. Not one minute: think several clips, 2 to 20 seconds each. Visuals communicate confidence in the best “show, don’t tell” sort of way, and they solidify your vibe.

There’s always something to explore on his page, something cool to join. He has a consistent brand identity across platforms. If you’re posting footage from your latest function, be sure to capture a handful of live moments: no cuts, edits, or background music.

While Millennials are looking for a crafted vibe, Gen Z sees through flashy transitions and are drawn to raw, more authentic footage. Whichever generation or demographic you’re aiming for, define their taste. Feature a strong personality, an unforgettable moment, or simply someone stunning. A dance circle always does the trick.

VI. A party is a living thing: take care of it, or it won’t grow.

AJ’s watched many incredible hosts have their “lightning in a bottle” moment , only to let it stagnate as a commercial venture or get too comfy with the same recipe every night. Consistency is crucial, but it does not mean recreating the club.

Innovating is more than advancement: it’s survival. How can you build on what you have? New artists mixed in with repeat guests, new venues in neighborhoods gaining traction. Notice spaces and movements moving in and out of operation around you and what people might be missing. Find opportunities to engage people from their arrival to the afters the next day. Gather intel on what people are loving and looking for, on the hot new artists, on nightlife trends as you travel from city to city. NYC is the perfect place to incorporate elements you loved elsewhere. Crowds here appreciate experiences that surprise them, and draw on the kaleidoscope of culture that makes the city special.

At the same time, you can’t control it all. Accept that you can have an A-level lineup, but if fifty things and the Met Gala are in town, your event might be a wash. Having a wide array of strategies keeps you prepared for the unexpected. Have something else in the wings, make sure you’re ready to start fresh. Exercising that innovation muscle makes adapting on the fly that much easier.

VII. YOU are a living thing. Take care!

Don’t take “bottled lightning” too literally. Your perfect party’s secret ingredient isn’t the ABV.

AJ remembers the “Eureka” moment that settled his sobriety: in Brixton, DC, when he came out of a club after “the craziest night, just finishing three months of sober-curious,” and realizing he hadn’t even thought of drinking all night.

“A lot of people fear they’ll lose their social life, but in reality, it’s the opposite,” he explains. Health consciousness makes AJ better at what he does, gets him out twice as much as he did before. Find what that means for you. If your fear is that life will be boring, I recommend following AJ’s socials. I don’t know when he has time to sit down, much less be bored.

Peer pressure is dated and daily. “Always a beautiful woman offering me shrooms,” he shrugs. FOMO doesn’t really exist when you throw the best parties and attend even more.

If you’re thinking about locking in, he says: commit to your own plan 100%. Don’t wait for the world to tell you to commit.

VIII. Energy is currency.

AJ mastered time management, self-set deadlines, and observed party patterns from city to city. But on the day of the event, he sheds the micromanager and brings only positive energy. Trust all your hard work will meet you where you’re at.

Energy can turn a hobby to a profession. Always stay on the lookout for new faces and connections: networking’s not only for quarter-zips and 401ks. Instagram like it’s LinkedIn. Thank everyone for coming.

Attention is gold in the modern world, and energy is your most precious resource. Being great often means not working alone: create a circle you can lean on and don’t take on everything yourself. Find your nightlife family.

AJ knows exactly who he wants to party with. He got his start hosting for friends and never stopped, just expanded his circle. “Don’t force it! Do it for the community, and let it happen naturally.”

Partygoers in NYC can check out AJ’s upcoming events here:

• April 18th - Southhouse Rodeo

• May 1st - Dance and Go Home

• May 16th - Southhouse Toronto

• May 30th - The Yellow Party

Here is what our staff writer Davina got up to this weekend:

Flowers by Jokah on Thursdays at Den Social was an unexpectedly wholesome night at one of K-Town’s mainstay nightclubs. Jokah, Den Social’s resident DJ, prepped individual bouquets for ladies in town that night. Music was popping, DJs mixing hip-hop, RnB, bass house, trap EDM, baile funk and jersey beat. As a mentee of Jokah’s and a local DJ, I received warm invitations from a crowd notorious for their intimidatingly cool aura. I recall my early college years at Den Social: messy, blacked-out nights while being absolutely nervous in line as I’m being vibe-checked and judged for my outfit choices by my table group I met only a few hours prior. Definitely a different vibe now - hello’s, how are you’s, it’s been a while, it’s nice to meet you - with a beautiful, pink rose in my hand. Though I certainly blacked out that night regardless. Jokah’s curation created an inviting, femme-friendly atmosphere for friends, regulars, and new clubbers. With headliners, setlists, and a crowd more diverse than ever, Flowers by Jokah was an undeniably good time with good vibes.

Open Decks This week

1. Open Decks with STEEN and Remnique: at SILO

   Wed, 4/15 ,7 pm - 2 am, 90 Scott Ave, FREE!

   Sign-up is in person at the event only, slots are 12 minutes. FREE! only with advance RSVP.

2. B2B Open Decks at Sound Collective

   Thu, 4/16, 5:30 pm - 8 pm, Sliding scale!

   How It Works
   • 30-minute B2B slots
   • Raffle entry
   • Two modes — you choose your chaos
   
   The Two Modes
   Normal Mode:
   Bring your B2B partner. Plot. Practice. Execute.
   Insanity Mode:
   Pull up solo. We assign you a completely random partner.
   No rehearsal. No safety net. Just vibes.

1. LES Open Decks- at Pinky Swear

   Thu, 4/16, 9 pm - 2 am
   Interested in signing up? Connect with us @lesopendecks on Instagram, and/or find Tim/Vanessa during the event and just approach either of them.

2. Thursdays are casual Open Decks- at Jade

   Thu, 4/16, 10pm:12:30 am, FREE!

   Each selected DJ gets a 15-minute set to show their taste, flow, and ability to move a room.
   
   At the end of the night, our hosts will invite one standout back up for a bonus 30-minute set.

3. Open Decks, Open House - at The House

   Thu, 4/16, 9pm - 1 am

   Music: 135+bpm (Trance, Psytrance, Techno, DnB, Dubstep, etc)

Crate Diggers

IDs for your next gig recommended by Hot Cue DJs

Getting major FOMO from Coachella? Here are some IDs from artists playing at Coachella this year

1. DANCE… - Slayyyter

   A rising start in the techno space, you might know her for her hit Beat Up Chanels. She released her album right before Coachella and her performances were straight up amazing.

2. Campeon - Zulan

   Zulan is an Argentinian DJ that plays energetic sets inspired by garage and ukg. I heard she’s an industry plant but what does that word even mean?

3. Someone Else - Rezz

   Rezz is a Ukrainian- Canadian DJ that Rezz pulled out of their weekend 2 Coachella set for health reasons. Props to him for sticking to his guns. It’s hard for an upcoming artist to prioritize themselves over the sudden recognition of their work.

4. I remember - Kaskade

   John Summit ruined this song with his remix. TALK TO THE WALL.

Find us at the dance floor at

1. TO:NY, DJ Pei Up, Botanist, DJ Janky, laís, BROKE’S

   Wed, 4/15, 10pm- Late, FREE! w/ RSVP

   Our friend Pei (Pei Up) and Jacob (Janky) will be spinning this Wednesday for Jacob’s birthday. Please show some love.

2. BUSH DUF - at SILO

   Thu, 4/16, 10pm - Late, FREE! w/ RSVP

   Natalie, a staff writer told me that SILO is free on thursdays. SAY LESS.

   You could potentially find not one but THREE of us on the dance floor.

Have an AWESOME week! If you meet one of us on the dance floor, say HI!

Here is what our staff writer Joyce got up to on the weekend:

Last saturday, I ventured out for my first Elsewhere night of the year (shocking, I know), called to the multifloor, multistage house venue by a night hosted by our friends at @barriobounce. The collective showcases Filipino DJ talent and genres like budots, a regional spin on techno rooted in Filipino street culture; you might’ve heard the genre from the song Emergency that went viral on social media, which was my first introduction to the sound.

Barrio Bounce took over Elsewhere’s Zone 1 stage, drawing a crowd with killer remixes of classic favorites — think the bubbly synth loops & boosted basslines of budots over tracks like A$ap Rocky’s Fashion Killa.

Last but not least, the DJs passed out buckets of Jollibee, the unofficially official fast food of the Phillipines, at the end of their set. The crowd went wild. 10/10. #friedchickenattheclub

Open Decks This week

1. Open Decks with STEEN and FindingYourNiche: at SILO

   Wed, 4/8 ,7 pm - 2 am, 90 Scott Ave, FREE!

   Sign-up is in person at the event only, slots are 12 minutes. FREE! only with advance RSVP.

2. LIFE AFTER TRANCE: OPEN DECKS at Happy fun Hideaway

   Thu, 3/12, 10pm - 12:30am, Sliding scale!

3. Rendezvous Grooves Open Decks - at Idle Mind Tavern

   Thu , 4/9, 8 pm-3 am, 623 Manhattan Ave. , FREE!

   Sign-ups open weekly. DM 808.Rendezvous to lock in a slot.

4. Support women DJs Open Decks - at Delirium

   Thu, 4/9, 7:30 pm- 12:30 am, 286 Meserole st, $10

   Sign up by DM at supportwomendjs

5. Pet Sounds Music Banquet+ Open Decks - at Rubulad

   Fri, 4/9, 5pm - 11pm, $10

   If you read our review of the inaugural Pet Sounds Music Banquet, it is coming back! This time they are hosting an open decks. To learn more about it, click here.

   

Crate Diggers

IDs for your next gig recommended by Hot Cue DJs

I am gonna be playing some rooftop gigs now that it’s getting warmer and here are some fresh house tracks that would be perfect for your mix.

1. s not right, but it’s okay - Mr. Belt & Wezol

2. Unwritten House Mix - BeatBreaker

3. u+me - Disco Shrine

4. pink + pink - rusowsky, Ravyn Lenae

5. Drop that thang - 1905, Former City Records

Find us at the dance floor at

1. Pet Sounds Music Banquet + Open Decks - at Rubulad

   If you read our review of the inaugural indie music festival and wished you could attend, this is your chance. Pet Sounds Music Banquet is a night of music, art, and community LIVE from Rubulad in the heart of Bushwick. Brought to you by Sabrett Hot Dogs! They are also hosting an open decks by lottery!

2. Happy Hour with House of FLINTA* - Bossa Nova Civic Club

   Fri, 4/7, 7pm - 10pm,

   My friend Akira who is one of the best DJs and producers I know in the scene is playing a set!

3. Non stop - Nowadays

   Sat 10pm -Sun, 10pm

   A 24- hour rave hosted by Non-stop, this round is all about bass and groove. Three NYC bass queens with their own fresh takes sandwich the lineup on Saturday night. DJ and dancer, Mui Mui, kicks things off with her dubwise, sultry, and low slung selections. Tossd resident DJ DEADNAME and QNCC Office Hours curator DJPT go b2b for the sunrise hours. In between, it’s two legends with distinctive takes on sub-heavy sound: Digital Mystikz’ own Coki and Nervous Horizon’s TSVI.

Have an AWESOME week! If you meet one of us on the dance floor, say HI!

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Brooklyn Mirage Saga Told Through Astrology

It’s been called the “crown jewel” of NYC’s rave scene. It dominated the 2010s. Its spike in popularity coincides with the rise of DJs spawning in King County. In this article, we compare it to the timeline of the Brooklyn Mirage.

Note: This article uses Western astrology.

Special thank you to The Other Magazines, edm.com, cafeastrology.com, and bkmag.com

Mirage Timeline:

June 2022: Avant Gardner Acquires Made Event, Electric Zoo, a festival space on Randall’s Island for $15 Million

March 2025: Newly minted CEO of Avant Gardner (and technically their first CEO ever) Josh Wyatt announced his vision for a big dream. Private small sound system venues, exclusive backstage clubbing, souring balconies: all in spaceship architecture designed to showcase the future of electronic music. This was one of Mirage’s regularly scheduled 3-year redesign to remain at the top of the pack. At this time, Avant Gardener had not acquired the necessary permits to reopen.

ASTROLOGY May 2025: Saturn Transits into Aries

Impact:

Saturn is the planet of dedication, restriction, and responsibility. Aries is a sign of eager energy, beginnings (but perhaps not always follow-through). Together, they can struggle if not balanced. Rushed, broad intentions may cripple under the weight of material responsibility.

March 29 2025: Solar Eclipse. Urge to release the old and embrace the new. Great change. Karmic Lessons, destiny shifts. Change comes to you, but starting something is ill-advised.

May 2025: Scheduled Reopening for Brooklyn Mirage

Here’s a sneak peek of the proposed vision. Insert eulogy here.

Pics acquired from Do312.

If you’re a raver time-travelling back to here, you’ve either gone back too far, or way too soon.

ASTROLOGY June-May 2025: Jupiter’s Transit From Gemini into Cancer.

Impact:
Jupiter is an outer planet known for growth, and expanding the impact of energy it moves through. If you are familiar with outer planets, they are known as teachers, part of broader life lessons. It promotes luck, offers wisdom through success, knowledge, broad thinking, and fresh opportunities.

Gemini is the sign of communication, for worldly purposes thinking everything from interpersonal to social media to travel to academia. and is detriment in Jupiter. This limits its positive abilities. Cancer, sign of emotions and the home, is in exaltation in Jupiter. Expansion depends on firm foundations, stable home connections, and thrives in comfort, faith and family.

Highlights: Jupiter Squares True North Node. Jupiter Square Saturn and Neptune.

August 2025: Avant Gardner files for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Josh, conductor of the “grand re-opening opera” has been let go, replaced in leadership by Gary Richards (“DJ Destructo”) to stop financial hemorrhage.

September 7 2025: Lunar Eclipse. Saturn, planet of responsibility and structure, has moved back into Pisces, the sign of dreams, illusions (for example, mirages), spirituality, and universal consciousness. Desires to control situations larger than ourselves will fail. Pacing is key.

Highlights: Jupiter Trine True North Node.

Flashback: in October 2023 Dubai’s FIVE Holdings Group, a hospitality and real-estate group, acquired the Pacha Group for $330 million. Pacha, international nightclub icon, was promised to host more reggaeton VIPs, better sound systems, and NFT wristbands under its new owners.

Jan 2026: FIVE Holdings acquires the Brooklyn Mirage venue for $110 million. Axar, Avant Gardner’s main lender, is immediately sued. Scott Enman of the Brooklyn Mag’s source described the move as representative of a larger takeover in the electronic venue and NYC nightlife scene by hedge funds.

Jan 2 2026: Chiron, comet of the “wounded healer” teaches through personal struggle. After moving in retrograde (struggling or confusing how to find meaning in major self challenges) since July, it turns direct. Personal truths become public and clarified.

Bonus info for the astrologically and business minds:

Brooklyn Mirage officially opened its doors on July 1, 2017. It opened briefly in May 2016, followed by issues with safety standards and liquor permits.

Here’s a natal chart based on a birth day and time of its first official opening party with CityFox at 4 pm, July 1, 2017.

Open Decks This week

1. Intro to Ableton: Bass and Hooks - at Nowadays

   Wed, 3/11 ,7-9pm, $20

   This workshop series focuses on learning the essential tools to translate your ideas into sound. You’ll learn how to construct grooves, write hooks, and build tracks that hold up in a club environment.

2. Open Decks with STEEN and Surfing DJs: Producer Night at SILO

   Wed, 3/11 ,7 pm - 2 am, 90 Scott Ave, FREE!

   Sign-up is in person at the event only, slots are 12 minutes. FREE! only with advance RSVP.

3. Thursdays are casual Open Decks at Jade

   Thu, 3/12, 10pm - 12:30am, FREE!

   Each selected DJ gets a 15-minute set to show their taste, flow, and ability to move a room. At the end of the night, our hosts will invite one standout back up for a bonus 30-minute set.

4. Rendezvous Grooves Open Decks - at Idle Mind Tavern

   Thu , 3/12, 8 pm-3 am, 623 Manhattan Ave. , FREE!

   Sign-ups open weekly. DM 808.Rendezvous to lock in a slot.

Crate Diggers

IDs for your next gig recommended by Hot Cue DJs

As international women’s day is coming up, we are highlighting some amazing women producers/ DJs who are active in the local scene.

1. Jeff Mills - Bells

   One of the Bellaire 3, orthe original three founders of Techno, Jeff Mills has been honing his own sound for the last 30 years.
   
   On October 28, 1995, he performed at Tokyo’s underground club The Liquid Room for a set lasting over three hours—an event that has since gone down in techno history. That night later led to the release of Live at The Liquid Room – Tokyo, his first publicly available mix, featuring 38 tracks.

   Jeff Mills will do a show in Brooklyn this Sunday, as part of his world tour celebrating the 30th anniversary of his legendary mix Live at The Liquid Room.

2. Coco & Breezy are Producers & DJs and the fiercely stylish twins behind their multifaceted brand. Their musical journey was influenced by their family and grew into a deep passion for dance music culture.

3. Kelly Lee Owens is a new talent coming out of the UK, who has been making great music since 2018. I love all her songs and play them at my set.

In other news…

• Wilderness announces 2026 festival line-up with Carl Cox, Soulwax, Grace Sands, more

Have an AWESOME week! If you meet one of us on the dance floor, say HI!

1. Staff Editor Joyce went to Refuge for the first time this weekend. Opened in late 2025, Refuge was a welcome addition to the club scene with its large outdoor area with food trucks and top of the line sound system. Here is Joyce’s review:

   Sat February 28th: A no phones dance floor will always be a welcome addition to the nyc club scene. My expectations were high after seeing a plethora of instagram posts lauding refuge’s sound system, and it definitely did not disappoint: bass you can feel through your shoes, and great music to boot. I was a little nervous after seeing some reports of oversold nights on reddit but it was the perfect level of packed, with room to snake towards the front and areas to chill and sit in the back. would recommend!

   Hot cue tip: sign up for refuge’s instagram channel for occasional last minute discounts on tix!

2. As spring is around the corner, it is looking to be a busy one for us New York rave rats. A brand-new electronic festival, “Why Not Now?”, is landing in Brooklyn this Memorial Day Weekend, May 23–24, at Industry City.

The two-night event will take over the venue’s warehouses and courtyards with house, drum & bass, and UK garage vibes. Night one is headlined by UK duo Gorgon City, with support from GENESI, Linska, TOBEHONEST, and Dreya V. Night two turns up the tempo with drum & bass heavyweights Chase & Status, plus Joy (Anonymous) B2B with MPH, UKG staple Flava D, and Toronto’s BAMBII. Organizers say the fest is all about forward-thinking sounds and immersive energy, tapping into the growing U.S. love for UK dance music. Pre-sale registration is live now, with tickets dropping March 10 at 10AM EST.

Features

Check out Hot Cue’s interview with 4YÛ where the NYC veteran DJ & former Mission resident shares his journey from bedroom DJ to international festival headliner.

Open Decks This week

1. Open Decks- at Signal

   Wed, 2/25 9 pm - midnight, 175 Morgan Ave, FREE!

   Following the Vinyl Workshop with Mateo Calle and Camilla Lubatti taking place from 6 -9 PM, Signal will be opening their decks. To participate, arrive by 9 PM to sign up for a set. 15 min sets. Audience favorite gets chosen to play another 15 min set and a chance to be selected to play at Signal.

2. Open Decks with STEEN and Escaflowne- at SILO

   Wed, 3/4 7 pm - 2 am, 90 Scott Ave, FREE!

   Sign-up is in person at the event only, slots are 12 minutes. FREE! only with advance RSVP.

3. Vinyl Open Decks by Subculture - at Jade Bar

   Wed, 3/4 7 pm-10 pm, 4 Stuyvesant Ave, Free!

   Sign up in person . First come first-serve, 30 min slots. Free!

4. Support Women DJs Weekly Open decks - at Delirium Studios.

   Thu, 3/5, 8 pm-1 am, 286 Meserole st, $10

   Open to Femme Identifying Individuals only. $10. Sign up here.

5. Rendezvous Grooves Open Decks - at Idle Mind Tavern

   Thu , 3/5, 8 pm-3 am, 623 Manhattan Ave. , FREE!

   Sign-ups open weekly. DM 808.Rendezvous to lock in a slot.

Crate Diggers

IDs for your next gig recommended by Hot Cue DJs

As international women’s day is coming up, we are highlighting some amazing women producers/ DJs who are active in the local scene.

1. KIMKILLA (she/her) is a Brooklyn-based DJ, producer, and creative curator known for her hypnotic blend of hard groove, sensuality, and futurism.

   Through her performances, she transforms rhythm into emotion — crafting immersive sonic experiences that connect bodies, frequencies, and feeling.
   Her latest single is fast and sexy. I will be playing it all weekend long.

2. CMD+JAZMINE is the electronic music project of Jazmine (JT) Green, combining her love of percussive builds, vocal samples, and complex blends through the lens of a cyborg who desperately wants to be human. Her music is trancey and hypnotic but also makes you want to move your body enedlessly.

   3. p1nkstar Hailing from Texas,p1nkstar is now an international DJ with a focus on Latin club and beyond. The first trans person to receive an Austin Music Award her music is reminiscent of early 2000s club bangers like will.i.am with Spanish lyrics and damn good riffs.

In other news…

• Wall Street journal published an expose on Brooklyn mirage and the wall street names behind its fall from grace.

• A new publication about Bushwick called Grimes Square is asking for submissions.

• Watch our video on the organizers of Williamsburg Bridge Raves: CRSPY

Have an AWESOME week! If you meet one of us on the dance floor, say HI!

Hot Cue Magazine sat down with 4YÛ to discuss his long journey to stardom. Learning production from YouTube, finding community amongst music lovers, and befriending his long-time idols are only some of the stories that 4YÛ has to share.

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Get to Know 4YÛ

What’s your name?

4YÛ: My name is Gabriel Uy. I live in Flushing right now, and I’m 31 years old. I started DJing in my bedroom in 2016 and playing actual gigs in 2019.

What was your first gig like?

4YÛ: My first time playing live was at my best friend’s birthday party, but my actual first gig in front of people I don’t know was actually in Amsterdam. It was crazy because I went to see one of my favorite artists, Outrage, and now he’s my close friend.

His USB didn’t work actually [at the gig], so we looked at each other and I was like, yo, my USB works. We asked his manager if we could go back to back and he was like yeah, why not? It was like a 45 minute setup, just us throwing music and having fun. It was great.

What genres do you mostly play?

4YÛ: I mostly mix and produce techno and trance. I used to have another name called DJ Guy, which I used to produce Big Room and Progressive House and a few other genres. But times are changing. After COVID, everything about DJing became a lot faster, and a lot harder. So I went the different direction of techno and trance, which I [produce] right now. I love it so far.

What were some of your greatest or most memorable gigs?

4YÛ: Wow. So my most memorable gig was Dreamstate since I’m a trancehead. I won [Insomniac’s DJ/producer competition] Discovery Project; one of the guys that plays my music, Giuseppe Ottobiani, was the judge. The first track I put [in my submission] was [his song], and he picked me to play Dreamstate last year.

I was probably the happiest because I was able to play my own music. In New York, I would have to play either Tech House or bigger music from 10 years ago that I still love, but don’t want to play live. But Dreamstate was actually one of the first few gigs I was able to play the entire 4YÛ set, no questions asked.

4YÛ’s Musical Process

How did you get into DJing?

4YÛ: I used to rave starting in 2013. My first rave was Electric Zoo funnily enough – RIP Electric Zoo. But in 2016, I saw Hardwell play at EDC New York, and everyone was following along to everything he said on the mic. We were jumping, clapping, whatever he said. It was crazy. I got really inspired by that [...] to start DJing.

I did a lot of research at first, but I mostly trusted my ears. I went to the Guitar Center almost every day after school just to DJ. I would suck so bad, but I didn’t care because I was having fun.

What’s your favorite part about producing?

4YÛ: My favorite part of producing is me imagining the song I [play], on the main stage of whatever festival. Like my song got played at Tomorrowland [and] it was probably the happiest moment of my life besides my marriage. I was really happy, like I was shocked. My friends were like, B.Jones just played your track at Tomorrowland! I did not believe it. I became friends with her [after that], so now we’re trying to make a track together.

How do you think DJing and producing are different from each other?

4YÛ: Everybody can DJ. DJing music is a lot easier because I can literally teach you in like three, four hours on what to do, how to transition. But producing – I can teach you some stuff, but I cannot teach you how to find your own signature sound.

Has there been any challenges in this scene as an independent DJ?

4YÛ: I’m still coming up in the scene. I’m not established. So many things are hard because it’s not a set schedule like a 9-5 job.

With producing music and DJing, it’s just a battle of trying to make yourself motivated. You’re your own boss. I have to find the right people. I have to find the right sounds. And that’s not what a lot of people tell you about DJing and producing, just because they see the glamorous things about it.

As an [independent] Asian DJ, I’m still considered a local DJ, which is fine. Here in New York, I have to sell tickets, tables, and create a lot of social media content for it and it’s hard to get paid. But for a festival, I get treated as an artist. I’m getting a guest list, I’m paid properly, and I get transported. In the city, whatever, I’m taking the subway and Uber.

What kind of advice do you have for people starting out?

4YÛ: Just be hungry honestly. In the beginning, it’ll be great if you just YouTube whatever, like how to DJ [...] there’s a million videos. Replicate it, and if you want to learn how to produce, do the same thing. Watch the video and literally copy it [...] and remake your favorite songs. You’ll literally hear what they do and [think] wow, that’s so simple. I thought [producing] was harder than [it was] and you’re just mindblown because of how simple it could be. Take your production level ten times longer, ten times more further than needed because you’ll know how to make your favorite song and you’ll realize how easy it is.

On Identity

It must be a little different because you’re a DJ, but you’ve also been a long time raver. What’s your perspective on Asian rave culture?

4YÛ: Kandi trading, head banging, raving, sidequesting. It’s all fun, that’s all part of the experience of raving. If you’re just there to listen to music, it’s fine, but sidequesting: finding new stages, finding new things at a festival you wouldn’t have found if you were just in your group the entire time. If you sidequest, you can find a DJ that you’ve never heard in your entire life.

I guess the Asian raving scene’s changed a bit in New York since I started raving. The music changed: when I first started raving, big-room progressive house was very big and I was part of [that] golden era of EDM. Now it’s like the golden era part two because all the DJs and songs from back then–80s, 90s, early 2000s–are coming back in a new, faster form. Music comes in cycles: the scene itself hasn’t changed much, [but] the music has changed.

You don’t think the popularity of raving within Asian American communities has risen?

4YÛ: It definitely has risen exponentially, don’t get me wrong. But that’s everything. Music will always hit you as a person, no matter what ethnicity you are. For example, with Hardwell, I was in a very dark place when I found his music. Then one of my bosses was like, hey, do you want to come to the show? And I saw Hardwell. The first song that came on when I walked into the show was Apollo. The lyrics from that song triggered me and I became a fan of his, then a fan of raving.

Do you feel your Asian-American identity has influenced you as an artist?

4YÛ: I would say it definitely helped me because most of the DJs you see in my genre are European–actually, like ninety percent of the DJs are European. There are the Dutch, Swedish, people from the UK, or any other country, and there’s less represented Asian artists out there. Like in China, a lot of Asian DJs are ghost-produced by other people, so their music isn’t their music. I’m trying to change that narrative. I create my own music and I’m actually DJing.

I feel like we haven’t seen a lot of DJs that are either Asian or have Asian influences in their music.

4YÛ: Even though the culture is huge, it’s just harder because of how we grew up. Asian DJs just started getting into the scene. The first one I can think of is Laidback Luke. He’s half-Filipino and half-Dutch and he’s been in the scene since the 90s and early 2000s. A lot of Asian DJs are very recent even though they started around the 2013 era where the Dutch literally dominated. It’s just a very long process. For example, Illenium got started in 2011 and didn’t get big until 2017. ARMNHMR’s been producing since 2008 but they didn’t get big until 2020, around COVID.

Behind the Scenes

Who would you say you make music and perform for?

4YÛ: Honestly, everybody. Because music is very global. It doesn’t have a specific race or a specific country or continent. For my music, I create for everybody to listen to. Throw it in a playlist, or I can play for the club or for the festival. It’s for dancing and partying or for when you need to move around.

Have you had any crazy or cool moments as a fan yourself?

4YÛ: 100%! I’ve opened for Tiësto and Hardwell, literally my GOAT. He’s the one that got me out of being suicidal back in 2013. He’s the one that made me start DJing and producing music. When I met him in 2013, I was so happy. I posted it on my story and everybody was like, you made it, because they know my story. I pretty much met my god in their eyes. After that, I followed him in 2023 for like five shows. Before EDC Las Vegas, we had a little 10 minute conversation, he thanked me for coming to the shows. I changed my Instagram profile pic too. I met him again in 2024 and he was like, how’ve you been, long time no see. We had a normal conversation. Now it’s like, oh that’s my best friend. It’s pretty cool, that transition.

From initial scene to now, how have you changed as an artist?

4YÛ: The funny thing is that my initial scene was Marquee because all the big DJs used to play there. I got into Mission as a clubber in 2019 because Laidback Luke was there and I’m his kung-fu student. Like, I literally do kung-fu with him. Then in 2021, one of my friends, [who] was a DJ for Shemanski and had opened for MARION, Porter Robinson, Skrillex, [...] gave me the footing to start DJing. I got on the Mission lineup and was eventually asked to be a resident.

But starting in 2023, I started changing gears because I didn’t want to play all the bangers anymore, I wanted to play my own stuff. That’s when I ended my residency at Mission because our music changed. Honestly, I was sad at first because it was my home for the past two and a half years. But now I made a name for myself.

Even though I play a lot less gigs than I used to play while being a resident DJ at Mission, I’m playing a lot more meaningful gigs.

Check out 4YÛ on your music streaming platforms and social media (@4yu.music on Instagram), where you can find his up-and-coming shows and latest hooliganery. Don’t forget to listen to his newest single, In My Veins, with Franny J.

And for more artist interviews + all things related to the NYC electronic scene, subscribe to Hot Cue Magazine below.

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If you’re subscribed to Hot Cue, chances are high that you have read Curtis Sliwa’s article on how EDM has carried him through some tough times. Although his taste is a little questionable, (Chainsmokers…) , feeling pure euphoria while dancing under the K-Bridge is a sentiment we all understand. The real question is…Do you think he wears his red beret to the rave?

Curtis Sliwa

The Beats That Carried Me Through: Electronic Dance Music

There are moments in life when the noise becomes overwhelming. Not the sound of a city, but the noise of expectation, criticism, pressure, and doubt. During those moments, you either find something that steadies you or you risk losing yourself inside the chaos…

Read more

2 months ago · 336 likes · 31 comments · Curtis Sliwa

Features

Check out Hot Cue’s Feature Article where staff writer Maggie ponders on today’s rave culture trend: “soft-clubbing”

Open Decks This week

1. Open Decks- at Signal

   Wed, 2/25 9pm - midnight, 175 Morgan Ave, FREE!

   Following the Vinyl Workshop with Mateo Calle and Camilla Lubatti taking place from 6 -9 PM, Signal will be opening their decks. To participate, arrive by 9 PM to sign up for a set. 15 min sets. Audience favorite gets chosen to play another 15 min set and a chance to be selected to play at Signal.

2. Open Decks with STEEN and Rhythm Cartel- at SILO

   Wed, 2/25 7pm - 2 am, 90 Scott Ave, FREE!

   Sign-up is in person at the event only, slots are 12 minutes. FREE! only with advance RSVP.

3. Support Women DJs Weekly Open decks - at Delirium Studios.

   Thu, 2/26, 8pm-1am, 286 Meserole st, $10

   Open to Femme Identifying Individuals only. $10. Sign up here.

4. B2B Open Decks Vol.4 - at Speakeasy of sLICe Astoria

   Thu, 2/26 6pm - midnight, 38-12 Broadway, FREE!

   Bring a B2B partner or get assigned a random partner. No sign up required. Just show up.

Crate Diggers

IDs for your next gig recommended by Hot Cue DJs

1. Ceruelan: Danne L Harle ,who has produced for names such as Caroline Polachek and Dua Lipa has released his long awaited debut album, “Cerulean”. Inspired by the ocean, the album is post-hyperpop, blending genres such as progressive, trance and techno. With features from PinkPantheress and Clairo, the album feels representative of today’s club music but successfully advances the sound further. While we recommend you listen to the entire album, here are the standout tracks for your crate:

2. Ultraspirit: On February 13th, the underground artist Boy2000 released a brand new EP called “Ultraspirit”, his first release after signing with R&R records. After releasing 3 albums independently and becoming popularized mostly through the TikTok algorithm, the Kansas native creates his own take on early 2000s genres like DnB and Jungle in his music. Great addition to your crate.

Where to Catch Hot Cue This Week

Events you may or may not find us at this week

1. Eli Escobar and Cosmo - at Signal

   Fri, 2/27, 9pm-4am, 175 Morgan Ave, $10

2. Club Stars: DJ Assault, Raven, Daniro… - at Paragon

   Fri, 2/27, 9pm-4am, 990 Broadway , $10-20

In other news…

• Brooklyn Mirage will officially be taken over by company behind Pacha, Read at BKMAG.

• Watch our video on the organizers of Williamsburg Bridge Raves: CRSPY

• Check out our staff writer Natalie’s mix.

Have an AWESOME week. See you on the dance floor!

Hot Cue Mag Tip: Take a shot every time I say rave. I’ll say a prayer for your liver.

REMINISCING

At the end of the 1980s, acid house burned through the UK club scene. It escaped unlicensed. Underground dance rituals appeared in empty YMCAs, in fields, and on bridges. Believers, ravers, moved under the moon, guided by illegal radio stations and streetlight posters. “The Second Summer of Love” jumped the Atlantic to New York, and hasn’t let us rest since.

Non-conformists fled the club scene for the raves. Pamphlets promised temporary utopias. Newspapers warned of techno fanatical lunatics. Before the smartphone boom, it was members-only cards, rave books and a few souvenir photos. Early ravers just wanna go back to 1995.

On the front line against modern isolation, raving offers intentional community, in person. The rave of today has commercialized and specialized for the broad masses: run and rave, laundry and rave, goat yoga and boiler room set. The movement is a diceroll: more often than not, today’s ravers are obedient screenager crowds, preferring to stand and film rather than dance freely.

Raves have always been mutable by nature: A 1989 Ipswich rave drew 17,000 to an airline hanger. Sunset Raves in the San Francisco Bay began at dawn with kite-flying, listing The Sun as the headline performing act. Flash-forward to 2026, and you’re frantically refreshing Ticketmaster. Is the real rave dead?

WHAT MAKES A “REAL” RAVE?

It’s 2 am. You followed the address your friend’s friend gave you. A heavy door swings open, and technicolor light escapes into the night. Deafening rhythm pulls you in. Welcome home.

It could happen anywhere. How you got there might be the deciding factor. Call a number, get sent to a coffeeshop, a sauna, or a warehouse. The longer the scavenger hunt, the better the set.

Showing up equates to signing a pact with the party thrower: an alignment of intention. You’ve committed to celebrating music and to join an inclusive community. Is it peaceful, loving, unifying, and respectful? Is rave even a noun? Maybe it’s anything that keeps your feet going to a rhythm for hours on end. Maybe we need new lingo.

Clubbing, on the other hand, is a get-what-you-pay-for situation. Same each time, except for a new theme. Sort of the fast food to raving’s home-cooked meal. The club has all the shimmer and sheen of a good time, but it’s way less nourishing. Raving takes effort, but it’s better for the soul.

With the rave, intentionality is crucial. NYC clubs try to emulate this with a security vibe check when operating as a rave venue: “No Sexism, No Racism, No Phones on the Dancefloor.”

Raving drops boundaries, not just location pins and LSD. As electronic music comes for pop’s dominance, the scene is shifting in accordance with new faces. Who understands this transformation better than the operators? Let’s get to know our artists and our hosts.

HOSTS CLOCK IN

Rave hosts are unhinged. They’re the first to arrive and the last to leave, 12 hours after the start. They remember how you blew them off three years ago (it’s still not funny). Maybe they moved, across the country or the world, for your nightlife. They’re stone-cold and often, apparently, sober. They create the culture that crowds venues while up against dozens of competing events. We call these extraterrestrial creations: the party, the club, the function, the rave.

12 AM, Bushwick, New York

Not far from Maria Hernandez Park is a faraway world. Dancers climb pool tables, smoke clouds the first look through ten-foot glass doors. To The Moon, an NYC lifestyle brand (self-described as a mindset), is throwing a rager sure to piss off their landlord. A friend pushes me to introduce myself to Ian Orr, who is notoriously in a group chat with every nightlife VIP you’d ever want to know. His ever-present circle of followers make standing next to him a challenge. I wave my arms like the party ended an hour ago and I’m still here. He likes my homemade tie-dye, and I nab the interview slot: coffee at Crossroads Cafe, and a walking tour of Brooklyn’s best clubs. By sunlight, we meet the people you normally only cross paths with when you’ve stayed too long at the party: management, construction teams, and organizers.

To understand the 2020 rave scene in New York, picture longitude and latitude coordinates, glowstick paths, and the vibrations of the rhythmic techno ravers deep in Brooklyn and Queens. Maybe 90’s reminiscent; there were certainly no social media flyers. Internet commentators shot down “plague raves” as "disgusting”. Others pointed fingers at the government and its lack of support for the hospitality industry. Nonprofits like Nightlife United supported nightlife grants.

Rave culture is a longtime safe haven for those without social safety nets in their day-to-day life. Ian remembers how his first functions, thrown by Benny Soto and Danny Tenaglia, helped him learn to “Be Yourself,” the moniker of their series. With Soto, Ian even ran a promotion for Outernet, the space that would become today’s Superior Ingredients.

Ian, who now runs the event series Vigilante, learned true freedom through self-expression from Soto. "These parties were bold, expansive; they were what ultimately encouraged me to come out of the closet," When he faced homelessness, Ian’s rave connections took him in as family, guided by a central mission of fostering a supportive environment.

“It’s not going to the party and then going back home,” Ian says, “Outside was my home. For some people it’s their night out; for me it’s my life. That is never going to go away."

Today, there is still the essence of intentionality. The scene is never dying, but expanding as followers of the dance movement diversify. How organizers create is also ever-changing.

THE SOBER SHIFT

4 AM, Cape Town, South Africa

AJ crests Lion’s Head Mountain. 2,000 feet above sea level, the rising sun lights up Cape Town. An hour before this, AJ had left his group’s fourth venue of the night to reach the trailhead in time. His secret?

“Six years,” AJ deadpans. Six years of sobriety, still counting.

We’re back in Brooklyn, same sun, new city. Nyla House is quiet this morning, a rarity for the double-life coffee shop and social club. For AJ, same crazy schedule. He’s fresh from a D.C. party the prior night, with time to run the Brooklyn Bridge before we met up. “Your reality is what you focus on,” he says. “Center yourself on what makes you your best, and you’ll always be it.”

Someone must have sent a memo for everyone to start a sober journey. Could have been the Surgeon General’s Warning, or just throwing up in the subway one too many times. I’ll go out for an hour to join some friends and come home three seltzers deep and 80 bucks poorer.

Someone must have sent a memo for everyone to start a sober journey. AJ knows why it sticks once they do: "A lot of people fear they'll lose their social life, but in reality, it's the opposite." He references a recent college grad he knows who was thinking of drinking less if not for her FOMO. Shots with friends, sharing one with the bartender or a stranger you've been eyeing all night— it's a ritual, a ceremony. But once she cut back, she was going out more, staying out longer. "My interactions are substantial because I never tire out,” AJ emphasizes, “I remember all the conversations and moments. It makes me better at what I do."

As the clever mind behind No Type, a series that started as friends-only ragers, and now operates house party-adjacent events all across the East Coast, AJ has mastered dance-centered socializing. His vision is focused, his community purposeful and open: just how we imagine the best raves. Instead of acid house, expect Trap, Amapiano, Jersey Club, Afrobeats, and your clothes sticking to your skin. It’s a “music experience:” sounds courtesy of DJs Mohogany, Moochie, El Fennec, kenDollaz, all run by an abstinent wild child.

The musicians, too, are indulging differently.

ARTISTS LOCK IN

Young celebrities just aren’t stumbling out of clubs like they used to. The drunk celebrity Reddit collections have been replaced by Cosmo’s lists of forty A-list sober stars. Where are the paparazzi shots of bands coming ass-first out of limos? In the smartphone era, there are more cameras in clubs than exits, but we see less of the real party.

“A lot of artists don’t want to party all the time,” Miguel, artist and innovator of his own music label Tamed, explains. “They just want to make their art, maybe play for a small crowd, and still have a career. I want to give them that.” He is a scientist of a great scene. Miguel traverses America with a series Tamed Global: a brand for the audiophiles of Miami, Charlotte, Columbus, and NYC. It heralds the best sound systems, giving you underground sounds you never knew you needed.

Crucially, his series supports amazing artists, but no DJ worship allowed. I’m all for this ethos — too often, I’m at a rave better described as a concert. Crowds adore the artists but forget to be free. Dance, connect, have moments! Instead of each other, our shoulders seem to surrender our sole attention to the setlist.

“I would never play on stage more than that high,” Miguel floats his hand a foot above the ground. “Well, maybe that high.” He moves it a foot higher. Equality is center stage at Tamed events, modeling the hierarchy-flattening of early rave culture. “Everyone’s human. When you come to a Tamed event, everyone is treated equal. Everyone leaves their worries at the door. I want our events to feel like an escape mechanism from all the chaos.”

Miguel doesn’t drink much (hard to justify ruining his meal prep with ten beers), and is part of a scene-wide shift away from liquor overloading. I’ve heard more of the same from other artists. Viiq, trailing young prodigies behind her as a music teacher by day and breaking up all-male DJ lineups by night, prefers Pilates to PBRs. When I meet her on the Fourth of July in Sunset Park, she’s nervous enough to puke. Who needs liquor when you have a stage fright adrenaline? Troxell, a jack-of-all-trades producer and performer (profiled in Hot Cue Mag's first DJ piece), said, “I’m not really a drinker, I’m focused on the energy of the room.”

This sober shift isn’t rebellion, really; it’s a fixation on creating, and seeking more balanced lives. The stereotype of party-music-makers who want a rock-n-roll tour experience is overblown, and sometimes, not fully their choice. Miguel references artists like Avicii, who suffered pressure from their teams to tour against their health. We don’t accept the mantra anymore of strong art requiring a strong drink. Artists are less Guns N’ Roses and more Laidback Luke.

For a real raver, the experience isn’t about getting fucked up. Like the 90s, we “Just Say Know.” But it’s gone beyond sobriety . The expansion of raves, which are already often described as a physical approach to spirituality (check under r/aves, “Is raving a spiritual experience for anyone else?”), is crossing deep into Big Wellness territory.

What’s a Wellness Rave? Can a “real rave” serve hot tea?

8 PM, Williamsburg, New York

You’re high-fiving the most fit people you’ve ever met. You’re not allowed to wear shoes. In fact, the less clothing, the better. Welcome to Othership. Half the fun will be exploring the sleek, carved wood, intimate orange-lit interior.

If Bruno Mars designed a spaceship, it would look a lot like this, I think. Herbal tea on tap. Sweaty chanting followed by a swim in Antarctic temperatures. Both promise to boost metabolism, but in a body-positive way.

Othership is an immersive sauna that dabbles in the rave, including functions hosted by Daybreaker, a global dance and wellness movement. At their outdoor or warehouse venues, there are fewer cold plunges and sweet scents. Trade those for “grounding workouts,” music blasting, and a massive open setting. Keep the meditation, add strobes. It has breathwork, it has dancing, but it might be wrong to say it’s about the music.

Wellness raves let attendees start their day bumping. All the bump-taking seems to be edited out of the promo videos. There's no drinking in spaces "made sacred by movement," but don't expect a sober crowd at the 10 am "Have Fun, Be Nice" workout and boiler room set. Now, everyone is Brooklyn sober — doing anything they want, as long as they’re not paying for it.

“Our goal is addressing the loneliness epidemic,” Othership manager Muriel tells me. She’s headlining sober rave culture. Muriel has a personal journey with a universal vision. It is very much in line with the intentionality of raves, but it looks a little different. I don’t believe her at first when she says New Yorkers are low on friends –in a city of over 8 million, surely most people have their people. Yet personnel at Othership released a poll: New Yorkers, on average, have less than one close friend.

Health-conscious clubbing is not everyone’s cup of tea. Australian lifestyle mag Mamamia railed against over-emphasis on wellness, stressing that it steals opportunities for self-expansion: “It’s the ‘low-pressure atmosphere’ I take issue with. Because here's the thing: high-pressure social situations are the makers of us. It's in discomfort that we learn and grow. Maybe it's because [Gen Z is] the first generation raised on constant stimulation, that embracing 'boring' has become an act of rebellion.”

It’s been called a “capitalist psy-op” and a “simulation of real life.” Wellness raves are addressing loneliness, but maybe not the root of it.

The wellness of any given raver may be uncertain, but the rave itself is forever in good health.

THE UNDERGROUND ISN’T DEAD, IT’S EVOLVED

The beat doesn’t stop at your ears; it’s in your bones. You’re one with the strobes, spinning along their loom. They connect us, a trap of fluorescent harmony you never want to escape.

Raves are chaos. They serve a primal need, physical freedom, and produce progressive ideals. Some are conducted by die-hard sound system purists, some by visionaries of movement. The underground isn’t dead, it’s evolved. Ian’s coordinate-address parties still happen. Miguel brings underground ethos to legal venues. The essence survives even when the form changes.

AJ says, “A party is a living thing.” Feed it with what keeps it alive: community and intention. Remember to “Just Say Know.” Know what you’re there for. Know why you showed up. Know the difference between enhancing experience and replacing it.

It’s not the warehouse, ecstasy, or DJ you need proof was there. It’s the pact. The liberty to move without judgment. The community that forms when people show up for each other and sound.

You decide.

Around a month ago, I decided to shoot my shot (professionally speaking) and reach out to my friend’s cousin, who happens to be a fashion designer. After negotiating a spot on his media team, we got to chatting about our creative journeys and stumbled upon the fact that we were both ravers. But there was only one problem: he was “retired.” Now, if you’re like me, you would immediately give this man the ultimate stare of confusion. How are you “retired” and under the age of 30?

Born in NYC, fashion designer Kurriizma1 moved down south at a young age, where he discovered his rave family2 at the ripe age of 12 from attending anime conventions mainly in Florida and Atlanta, Georgia. While he joined the scene at an incredibly young age, Kurriizma was essentially born into raving, so to speak: his father was an early raver in the house music scenes of Detroit and NYC. Combined with Kurriizma’s early exposure to DDR3, you have a recipe for a raver in the making. However, raving during his youth felt inexplicably tied to the tradition of attending anime events, and his eventual foray out of this scene later influenced his “retirement.”

Kurriizma spent some years as a promoter, even going to the first ever Lost Lands4, before deciding to hang up his cape for multiple reasons. One of the foremost was to focus on college and his growing fashion brand, redefining himself outside of this sometimes draining scene. I had not gone to a function since Lost Lands, and as I sat thinking about how long a time that felt for me, I couldn’t imagine how my friend was feeling. Seven years is a whole lifetime to some, myself included.

Winter is a special time in NY, especially for ravers.

Unlike the spontaneous nature of summer shows, the crowds that come to winter sets are intentional. A different kind of energy enters a winter function: with it being so cold, you are not as inclined to go out, yet the rave calls as a perfect opportunity to release pent-up energy. Shows become intimate, not necessarily in size but in the energy from the crowd that attends . This marks what I like to call the techno season. Ravers scurry off to the warehouses like the rave rats we are, searching for energetic beats that keep us oh so warm.

When I saw this show was announced, I knew this may be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity – I Hate Models was the only artist that could convince Kurriizma to come out of retirement, with his diverse tracklist and fun stage presence. Thankfully, as soon as I texted the tickets to him, it was a quick and easy yes. Throughout the week leading up to the show, Kurriizma and I chatted back and forth, excitedly anticipating the “unleashed” behavior we were about to put forth on the dance floor.

I have talked about Knockdown Center before in my review of Noizu from earlier this year. Through my trials and tribulations with this venue (I still get nervous sometimes getting a drink at the bar, iykyk), I still have to rank it within the top 5 of NYC rave venues. Formerly a glass and door factory, this venue is well spaced out, previously used for assembling lamp bulbs and “knock-down” doors, but now dedicated to dancing and taking a smoke break or two. This particular show was sponsored by RUSH, a techno series exclusively at Knockdown Center, which recently celebrated its 2nd birthday. Over the past 2 years, they have hosted a litany of other major techno acts, including 999999999, Nico Moreno, Øtta, and many more.

Kurriizma and I entered the venue roughly an hour and a half after the doors opened to see opener Saint Velez for a while. I naturally moved through the crowd, first finding a spot near the platform ledge. Was I tempted to stand on top of it? Absolutely…but in that moment, it was more interesting to observe from the crowd as I saw people start to fill the space behind us.

As the night went on, Kurriizma kept receiving compliments on his dance moves, so much so that he was gifted multiple “trinkets.” He recalls when he received a light-up ring as the moment he knew he was back in full force! Velez was delivering some amazing hard beats, which prompted us to think critically. We had to conserve enough energy for the main act.

Hailing from France, the mysterious I Hate Models has been making waves on the techno scene for years. I had the pleasure of seeing him at EDCLV earlier this year, b2b with fellow techno giant Nico Moreno. Needless to say (and I said plenty on my EDC review), it was a magical time.

This show felt no different. As soon as he stepped on stage, the crowd erupted with cheer, ready to have the ultimate post-Thanksgiving workout. As we kicked the energy into high gear, I recall thinking that maybe an hour had passed by until I looked at my phone and realized that only 15 minutes had passed. His transitions felt seamless, making 4 hours feel like 10 in the best way possible. Talk about losing yourself to the music.

Speaking of the crowd, one of the biggest surprises of the night was the fight that Kurriizma and I witnessed during the first hour. In a split second, the crowd parted like the Red Sea as two very large men attempted to tackle one another. What were they fighting about, you may ask? Who knows, honestly, but thankfully they were able to get off the dance floor. Thinking back to the fights I had seen at raves over the years, I wondered: with the rave community being such an open and accepting environment, what is there to fight about exactly, when we could just release that aggression on the dance floor?

Other than that incident, the crowd came CORRECT! Everyone around us was dancing, with my friend especially bringing the energy. Seven years of pent-up energy was unleashed, as Kurriizma and I muzzed erratically to hardcore-inspired beats and headbanged to some badass dubstep samples.

I Hate Models was completely sold out for the two days that he was playing, and armed with that knowledge, I was surprised to see how much room there still was throughout the night. When I hear the words “Sold Out”, I typically think of overpacked rooms, with not much room left for actual dancing. Having space is by design, in this case, by the team at RUSH, who more than likely took time to strategize the perfect evening and ideal attendee count for techno fans.

After we left the dance floor, Kurriizma and I knew we had one thing left to do: take fit pics for the gram, of course. As a fashion designer, Kurriizma is the type of raver who custom-makes all of his rave looks. This show was no exception, and to him, this fit was particularly special. November 30th was not only his first outing in seven years, but also the five-year anniversary of his fashion brand Kurriizmatic. His outfit was an ode to his raver upbringing and the shufflers that inspired him: sewing bags layered onto his JNCO-esque jorts, complete with neon-green lining and a black fitted long-sleeve top for peak performance. I was inspired by the intentionality of his garment and am excited to see what other rave fits he has up his sleeve.

Overall, this I Hate Models set stands out to me for a variety of reasons: not only did the crowd bring a great energy, but IHM also undoubtedly supported and enhanced the vibe, projecting a stage presence that motivated us all to keep on dancing, no matter what. But by far my favorite part of this experience was that I was able to introduce an NY native into the NYC scene. Yes, you read that correctly. This was Kurriizma’s first time on the scene in his home city, and I know for him it is one that he will probably never forget. Hell, he is already asking me when the next show is!

For “elder ravers”5 like both Kurriizma and I, it will always be Rave 2 the Grave; it just has to be the right time, right place, no matter how old we get. After all, we did spot a 70-year-old man dancing his heart out on the floor that night. Once a raver, always a raver, am I right?

The Oracle’s Final Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Appendix

Rave Auntie Oracle’s PRO-techno tips:

• You should always bring sunglasses and earplugs.

• Make sure you drink plenty of water before going on to the dance floor.

• Black may be the unofficial uniform of techno, but DON’T BE AFRAID to have fun with your fits (Kurriizma being a prime example).

If you like this set, you may also like:

• Ihatemodels LIVE @ Ultra Miami 2025

• Sara Landry @ Knockdown Center, NYC

  • This show actually has some lore for me. Read more about it here.

• Restricted @ Ministry of Fun, Slovakia

On September 13th at 11PM, I headed over to Bushwick to attend PMT’s sixth event at a secret venue revealed on the day of. A smell of sawdust and sweat enveloped me as I entered the front of the house, next to a gigantic quarter ramp: I was in an indoor skate park, but no skaters in sight.

The venue was outfitted with gigantic speakers that permeated the pulsating rhythms of techno, to the point you could feel it in your body. Neon lights and versions of the PLAY ME TECHNO logo were projected on the main wall, while fog filled the room.

The dance floor, set up in the middle of a skating ramp, filled up quickly as the crowd trickled in over the first two hours, patiently waiting while warming up to the techno beats of the guest DJs.

At 1:30 AM, the lights dimmed and fog filled the dance floor as Lavy took over the decks. As Lavy raised the volume on the first song, two dancers, one with a long braid down to their thighs, climbed to the top of the skate ramp and began the first performance. The dance was a take on burlesque: the two performers contorted their spines in almost inhuman ways as their bodies responded in real time to Lavy’s music, who was slowly building the energy in the room.

For the next performance, five dancers clad in leather harnesses and fishnet stockings entered the dance floor as crowds parted to make way for them. A moment of silence, then the booming bass started creeping in, and the dancers’ bodies began to gyrate — in a matter of seconds, the stage transformed into a collective sensuality, sound waves and limbs flowing through the air.

The crowd was immediately electrified: the audience circling the performers began cheering and joining in the gyrations themselves. Watching, I began to realize that the performance was all-encompassing: not only the sounds and movements on the stage, but also the energy enveloping the audience to encourage a group movement.

The performances continued until sunrise, with each performance building on the previous one in intensity, each choreography depicting a different concept of eroticism and intimacy.

I left the show feeling like a new person, and thankfully had a chance to speak with Lavy, the founder and lead organizer of PMT, after the event.

Lavy is a New York–based dancer who earned their BFA in Dance Choreography from Marymount College. Lavy is not a promoter and far from a newcomer to the scene – they’re a multidisciplinary artist who’s been honing their craft for over 14 years. Through speaking with them, I learned even more about how the notions of performance, theatre, culture, and community are very intentionally melded into the events they curate.

Q: Where did the idea for Play Me Techno (PMT) come from?

Part of my senior seminar class in college to create a business or project to leave with. For me, that became starting a dance company, or what I now call an interdisciplinary performance collective. Dance was always a resource for me, but I realized I was more interested in creating entire worlds: environments that felt cinematic, immersive, places people could actually walk into. I wanted people not only to be moved by our physicality, but also by the environment around it.

That’s how I created VERBAL ANIMAL, my first company. Outside of college, I started building it with residencies and performance opportunities. But over time, I realized the proscenium stage wasn’t enough for me. I was craving something more decentralized, where audiences weren’t just sitting in seats, but instead moving through a space. That desire to create environments people could step into is what led to Play Me Techno.

A good friend of mine, Serena Wolman, now one of our resident choreographers, was there from the beginning. She had already been throwing her own nightlife event, Kiss My Face, which was a queer variety dance show with a party vibe. I wanted to move in a different direction: more abstract, more underground, where the audience was fully immersed in movement, performance, and environment. That became the seed for Play Me Techno. At first, the project was called Play Me Techno and Tell Me I’m Pretty. Now, we’ve shortened it to PLAY ME TECHNO.

At the same time, my co-founder Octi and I were both getting deeper into nightlife. We started DJing around the same time. For me, the merging of DJing, dance, and environmental design felt like the perfect amalgamation. Because it was coming from such an intentional space, it just felt right. So the first iteration of our team was myself, Serena, and Octi, bringing this vision into reality.

Q: Tell us about your first event. Where was it?
We did it at Red Pavilion. It’s more of a cabaret-style club. The space was small—maybe 75 to 100 people. We brought in our first lineup of performers, and while the venue lent itself to what we were trying to do in some ways, we quickly realized we wanted more control.

Being confined by a venue’s structure meant we couldn’t push ourselves artistically as far as we wanted. That event made it clear: we needed to create our own spaces.

Q: PMT has a cult following now. At what point did the series start gaining traction ?
Growth was slow but steady through the first year. About two shows ago, we sold out for the first time. The feedback we received then was overwhelming, people were really being moved by how immersive the event felt. That was at Rabbit Hole, on Evergreen Avenue, a venue we’d already used before.

By the second time there, we knew the space well, and the team had a strong grasp on how to shape and maintain it so people really felt transported. That resonance carried over. The most recent event was by far our largest: we doubled sales, sold out rapidly, and really felt the energy shift.

Q: How big was that last event?
Including guests, around 575 people. It was our largest ever: huge growth compared to where we started.

Q: What is the process behind planning a PMT event? How long does it typically take?
About two months. I do the majority of the curation and logistics: booking performers and DJs, planning the flow of the evening. I DJ a three-hour set from 1 to 4 AM, and each performance happens within that.

I collaborate closely with choreographers. Sometimes they choose tracks from a playlist I’m preparing for my set, sometimes they bring their own. Then we experiment together, sometimes at Pirate Studios: mixing different tracks, testing blends, and recording rough versions for them to choreograph to. For example, my work with our Resident Choreographer Akira Uchida, spans many weeks leading up to event. From meeting in person to discuss the intentionality of the work, to our studio time at Pirate, we inform each other to create a cohesive experience for ourselves and the people that join us at PMT.

But everything is still live-mixed at the event. That means the choreography and sound can shift in real time. The performers know it may change, so there’s a deep trust between us. I watch them, they tune into me. It’s a dynamic exchange. Sometimes what we rehearsed doesn’t land the same way in performance, so we adapt on the fly. That unpredictability has become part of the beauty.

Q: I went to your last PMT event that was held at a skate park, and the dancers interacted physically with the space in creative ways. How do you approach venues and space when it comes to planning events?

Usually we secure a space a couple months out. Sometimes choreographers get access beforehand, sometimes not. At our last event, some performers saw the space only on the day of. They had to imagine possibilities ahead of time and then adapt in real time, which was powerful in its own way.

The skate park venue we just used had been a dream of mine from the beginning. Dancers love physical structures: rails, ramps, ledges – things to push off, climb, or slide down. From the start, I knew I wanted to host a rave there, but it wasn’t feasible until recently. Getting to finally make that happen was a huge milestone.

Q: I also noticed that there were live lighting design and projection installations at the skate park event. How does lighting design come into play with the event planning process?
Our lighting and projection designers, Haley Morgan Miller and Josh Groth, have been with us since day one. Haley and Josh come from dance, so they understand performance from the inside. They transitioned into lighting and has been excited to experiment outside of traditional theater constraints. Josh operates the live lighting during the events, while Haley creates projection arcs: warping and twisting visuals, often using our logo, to play across the night.

They both bring new ideas every time, shaping mood and tone with fog, strobes, and projections.

For our most recent event, we introduced our first explicit theme: “the multiplicity of eroticism.” That guided not only the choreography, but also the lighting and projections. We wanted to expand the idea of eroticism beyond cliché archetypes—bondage, nudity, explicit sexuality—into subtle moments of intimacy and vulnerability. Sharing a dance, a touch, even something playful could be erotic. That throughline gave the event coherence, making each performance feel connected rather than separate.

Q: PMT expanded from less than 75 people from its first event to selling out venues in only 1 year. How do you feel about the event’s expansion from the more intimate queer community it started with to the broader mainstream audience it attracts today?
The events have been inherently queer from the beginning. All of us founders are queer, and it’s crucial to us that this remains a space by and for queer people. Accessibility is central: all trans-identifying people get in free.

As the events grow, more people outside the core queer community are attending, but our priority is maintaining the intentionality. We make it clear: when you enter, you’re stepping into a sanctuary. You’re expected to respect that this is primarily a queer space. Expansion is natural, but sacredness must remain.

Q: How do you curate DJs and performers?
I prioritize queer, trans, and BIPOC artists, with a strong focus on femme representation as well. Genre-wise, I lean toward industrial techno, acid, trance, but I also love weaving in experimental textures.

I don’t over-direct DJs; I want them to bring their sound. That unpredictability makes the night more alive.

Q: Where do you see PMT fitting into New York nightlife and culture more broadly?
For me, it’s about physical liberation. In queer culture, moving your body freely can feel intimidating or even unsafe. My goal is to create a space where, through proximity to dancers, people feel permission to move in new ways. When you see performers throwing themselves into movement unapologetically, it dissolves the aesthetic pressure to “look” a certain way. You realize: if they can move like that, so can I.

That sense of liberation, unlocking parts of your body you didn’t know were there, is what I hope Play Me Techno contributes to the New York scene, and to queer culture more broadly. It’s about offering a playground for bodies, a container for queerness, and a pathway to freedom.

Play Me Techno’s next event, Volume VII, will be held on November 22nd — follow their IG for tickets and to stay up to date on upcoming events.

And for more interviews and news about NYC’s electronic dance music scene, subscribe to Hot Cue Magazine here:

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“Look Out for Fellow Headbangers,” proclaimed a stone engraving as I entered Lost Lands, one of the largest EDM festivals in America. I, along with other ravers, like to call this music festival presented by Excision the “Dubstep Disneyland”. This festival full of near-lifelike dinosaurs transports you not only to the Mesozoic Era, but also to the interestingly intense world of Bass music genres.

Whether new to the scene or a seasoned veteran, every raver has been exposed to this subgenre of Electronic Dance Music, particularly its most mainstream offering of Dubstep. And while Dubstep has been around for quite some time now, many are not truly aware of its unique history that actually began across the pond. I guess time travel to the past is a recurring theme here?

What Even is Dubstep?

Like many genres within the Electronic Dance Music scene, Dubstep has multiregional origins and a fascinating evolution from its roots to the songs we ascribe to the genre today. While many like myself were introduced to this world through YouTube and the enigma that is Skrillex, Dubstep was once a UK-based genre full of Caribbean Sound System1 cultural influence. Similar to most other EDM subgenres, Dubstep was born from Black identity and the need for community, swapping civil rights era of the US for the Caribbean Windrush generation2 of the UK. Dubstep, after all, was a product of its root word, tracing back over 50 years.

Dub music, a psychedelic genre created by manipulating 70s Reggae and Ska tracks, was pioneered by Jamaican-British King Tubby and popularized by Guyanese-British Mad Professor.3 As 90s Jamaican dancehall exploded in popularity, it became the latest influence in sound system culture and continued to change with time. From Jungle to UK Garage to Grime, the UK sound was shifting drastically, almost seamlessly shifting to Dubstep. After some research, Dubstep almost feels like a science experiment of sorts, blending a variety of different genres to create a unique sound all its own: a symphony full of altering rhythms and varying frequencies, and testing the limits of what makes great music.

Flash forward to the mid-2000s, to a time were Dubstep was defined by its “tearout” style4, characterized by a chaotically aggressive nature and robotic sound. This particular style is unique to the United States, as the UK sound was brought across the pond and opened up another world of Electronic Music to the masses. However, the 2010s was when dubstep really took off: songs like Rusko’s “Everyday”, Flux Pavillion’s “I Can’t Stop”, and Zeds Dead’s “Eyes on Fire” Remix defined the genre. These types of songs were distinctly identified as “brostep,” a somewhat derogatory term mainly used to describe the early American dubstep sound.

Brostep was the introductory genre for many modern dubstep fans, and listeners of this style may argue that, given its sonic characteristics, Dubstep has veered away from its dub origins; however, brostep isn’t the only kind of Dubstep, and I would argue that other subgenres demonstrate how Dubstep’s origins have come full circle.

For example, defined by its signature chaotic chopping technique and blatant Caribbean influence, Riddim (originally coined as Trench5) is one of those tertiary genres in Bass music that challenges the parameters of Dubstep’s capabilities even further (the spelling of “Riddim” is not a coincidence to me as someone who is 100% Caribbean). Riddims are beats/samples that artists use as a modern form of competitive sound system culture, harkening back to the genre’s roots. But to many Riddim DJs and listeners, that history is lost, lacking a cultural perspective on the naming of the genre.

Adding to Your Playlist

While we in the States may know Dubstep for its signature tearout sound and flair, many artists have explored the range of distorted sound that traditional instruments and newer technology have to offer. Most notable of these artists, of course, is the iconic LA-based Sonny Moore, more commonly known as Skrillex. A controversial figure in Dubstep6, his experimental sound blended the traditional Caribbean vibes classic to the genre with Rock & Roll influences and collaborations with Hip-Hop icons (see: Wild for the Night with A$AP Rocky). Love him or hate him, Skrillex opened the door for many who are prominent in the scene today.

As dubstep gained traction, the diversity of artistry expanded exponentially, with countless musical influences. Take artists like Subtronics with his “scratchy itchy brain riddim,” or future Rock & Roll Hall of Famer Sullivan King with his 80s hair band persona. Every Dubstep artist has a personality all their own. Many artists have also embraced Dubstep’s “wubby” sounding origin, such as LSDream and Mersiv, bringing back atmospheric vibes traditional to the genre.

As noted in my piece about Lost Lands, the Dubstep scene has arguably done a better job in promoting female and queer artists than some other genres. From Mexico’s Jessica Audiffred to the US’s own Layz, Level Up7, Zingara, and Alleycvt, there has been a growing number of women in the scene who easily throw down harder than their male counterparts.

Don’t believe me? Listen for yourself with my personal Dubstep playlist linked below and comment your thoughts.

Welcome to Brooklyn: The Basshead Way

Bringing it back to your local NYC FYP, documenting the bass scene here in New York has been incredible to witness. While more niche compared to, say, House and Techno, Bass music has grown exponentially in the last 5 years.

Notably, Meadow Street, located in East Williamsburg, Brooklyn, is home to spaces that have been active in the scene for years. The Brooklyn Monarch, The Meadows, and The Woodshop, neighboring venues situated in this dimly-lit industrial area, have solidified themselves as the go-to venues not only for mainstream Bass acts, but also for up-and-coming local Bass collectives like Riddim NYC8.

It’s also important to note how important Avant Gardner, as controversial as it is, is to the NYC Bass Scene. With its high production capabilities, artists like Subtronics and Excision have been able to execute grandiose set designs, including a plethora of lasers, animated visuals, and, of course, heavy bass. I jokingly call this venue the “main stage” of New York, with its large audience capacity reserved for some of the biggest names in their respective genres. While bass hotspots thrive in Brooklyn, it’s pretty rare to see Dubstep outside of the borough, with the one exception being Webster Hall in lower Manhattan on occasion (I once saw Boogie T there).

From the Function to the Festival: Embracing P.L.U.R.

One of the beauties of living in the 21st century is the number of niche Bass festivals catering to lovers of Dubstep, also known as bassheads. Most notable of these is Lost Lands. Hosted in Thornville, Ohio over the past 8 years, this festival has become a premium destination for Bass-loving enthusiasts. It does not stop there, though. Other camping-style music festivals like sister festival Bass Canyon, Waakan, Griz’s recent Valley of the Seven Stars, and even the giant Electric Forest have made names for themselves as niche festivals catering to this specific world of EDM.

Over the years, I have been to countless raves/festivals, and I can confidently say that Dubstep crowds both locally and at festivals have cultivated a more niche culture compared to other fans of other genres, rooted in the philosophies of 90s ravers. The best way to describe it is a blend of authentically comedic ridiculousness with the classic mantra of “P.L.U.R.” (Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect, for those new to the scene). Basshead culture has brought me a community of people from all over the country, trading not only kandi and trinkets, but kindness and memories along the way.

One of the most popular cultural practices within the Dubstep scene is “headbanging”, the unofficial dance of dubstep. There are two ideal places for any basshead during a show. One of them is “riding the rail,” gripping tightly to the front row or side barrier, headbanging as hard as you can to the sickest drop an artist will throw (see below for an example of my rave fam and I headbanging on the speaker barrier to Ray Volpe at this year’s Lost Lands). The other ideal location during a show is in the pit…the mosh pit that is. Pit culture, as I’ve examined in previous works, is not only normalized but encouraged, sometimes even turning into what some call “the wall of death”.

If bassheads are not headbanging or in the pit, you might find them in a crowd playing with a variety of flow toys. I absolutely love seeing flow artists at shows, giving incredible freestyles using everything from flow stars to fans, to dragon staffs, and even light-up whips. Giving flow performances is also a form of currency within the Bass community, as learning these toys takes hours and hours of practice, according to my friend Nemasis9 (check out her TikTok to see far she’s come in her flow star journey!).

Dubstep has come a long way since its inception, refusing to fit into any particular box. The same goes for its listeners. I have met bassheads from all walks of life: lawyers to personal trainers, to non-profit workers, etc., who you would never think were into this fascinating genre. Sometimes, I’d like to believe that Dubstep goes beyond the music itself, as it has created a world all its own with its countercultural nature.

As time goes on, I am even more fascinated to see where this world will take this genre next and how it will evolve over the next 10 years. How will we describe the next generation of Dubstep artists that continue to challenge the so-called limitations of music production? More importantly, how do we continue to retain our histories within the rave community?

In between pondering these questions around Dubstep’s origins and evolutions, you can find me on the rail, or in the all-girls mosh pit.

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On September 13th, the first-ever Pet Sounds Music Banquet took over Rubulad in Bushwick. Organized almost single-handedly by Jake Murray, drummer and lead singer of Diner Pets, the festival packed in seven bands, nine DJs, and about 300 people for its debut year.

I showed up at 5 PM, early by any standards, only to find the place already buzzing. Finding the entrance was tricky: no signs, no posters. I circled the block three times before finally following the faint thump of bass towards an unmarked door.

If you see a bunch of shiny and otherworldly objects hanging from a tree, just know that you are in the right place.

The Space

“Rubulad is like our church. This feels like inviting people into my house of worship.” - Donnie, Diner Pets guitarist

Entering Rubulad feels like sliding down the Rabbit Hole into a whole new world.

After wandering through a corridor lined with naked mannequins and a clown mural, I entered the outdoor patio, which could only be described as the Madhatter’s backyard. A sculpture of a pair of lips with a tongue as a slide that daring revelers could tumble down. A string of lace panties and bras wrapped around what can only be described as a gnome house. Trees covered in streamers, doll heads, wrappers, any object you could think of.

After making my way towards the wooden patio marking the entrance to the indoor venue, I was immediately greeted by an easygoing bouncer who was happy to entertain my never-ending questions about the space.

Run by artists Chris Thomas and Sari Rubinstein, Rubulad has existed for 30 years in various locations around Brooklyn, but found its home on Melrose Street, off the Myrtle-Wyckoff L station in 2017. The venue hosts a hodgepodge of events, from monthly clown raves to a late-night independent film screening series. Decorations for themed parties past still remain, layering over each other to create an extravagant palimpsest in the physical space.

Rubulad also rents out accessible studio spaces to musicians, painters, sculptors, and other creatives. “Every time you come [here], it looks slightly different,” proclaimed Jane, a keyboardist who rents from Rubulad.

While I was taking in the delights of the venue, someone shouted, “Hey! The first band is about to go on.”

Everyone rushed inside. Let’s fucking go.

The Performances

Jake Murray, the driving force behind Diner Pets, has been playing in New York bands for over five years. Faced with rising venue costs and fewer booking opportunities for his band, Jake got the wild idea to throw a DIY music festival - by himself, on his own terms.

His frustration isn’t unique. As venues close or hike fees across the city, musicians are turning to self-created events to keep their scenes alive. The Pet Sounds Music Banquet was Jake’s answer: not just a show, but a community gathering.

Walking into the indoor section of Rubulad (which, in comedic contrast to the outdoor area, did vaguely resemble a music venue) with little knowledge of New York’s live music scene, I was expecting the bands to share a similar indie-rock vibe. Instead, I was surprised by a diverse lineup of sounds.

The opening band Madz is fronted by Madeline Bray, whose relatable and heart-wrenching lyrics reminded me of early Lucy Dacus. Madz’s more upbeat songs channeled early 2000s bands (think Bowling for Soup and Fountains of Wayne, but with a female forward lineup), and sapphic melodies.

Diner Pets took the stage midway through the night. A more hardline rock band, their cheerful and energetic sound embodies the nostalgia of middle school friend groups, the feeling of an endless sleepover at your best friend’s house. It took a second to figure out who was singing as the lead singer Jake, instead of standing at the front of the stage, sang in the back while absolutely crushing the drums. While playing, his smooth baritone and vulnerable lyrics beautifully interjected the band’s grand sonic arrangements and layers of harmony.

My personal standout was THIS HOLY RODEO!, a riotous band that reimagines the typical sound of punk. Experimental would be an understatement to the kind of thrill they brought to the stage. The band is highly technical, yet the range of what they do in one song feels illegal to all the rules of music: seamlessly moving through Jazz to Punk to Screamo to reading a poem the lead singer wrote on the way to the festival. I noticed that the drummer had sheet music, and later learned that it was his first time performing live with the band.

Other highlights included the country-rock warmth of Fawn Ridge and the textured, brooding rhythms of The Wiring.

Jake’s musical compositions for Diner Pets are undoubtedly impressive, but his curation of the bands was simply outstanding. The lineup wasn’t just music—it was a snapshot of a community, a night where friends, producers, old and new bandmates all shared the same stage.

The DJs and Vendors

In between band sets, the crowd congregated under a glowing tent, dancing to energetic beats. Curated by DJ Janky, the DJs spun everything from jersey club to downtempo as friends and family of the band hung out and smoked.

The beats were especially helpful for Beau, bassist of Diner Pets, to keep his spirits up while slinging hot dogs all night long. After playing in almost every band that has ever existed in New York for the last 15 years, Beau has become the most coveted producer in Brooklyn. In addition to playing multiple instruments that night, Beau proved himself a master of grilling. I don’t know what Beau did to the humble hot dog, but they were extra delicious.

The nook and crannies of Rubulad offer many chances to enter into intimate conversations like these with strangers. In the corner of the festival, John, father to one of the Diner Pets crew, was selling hand-designed Skateboards and merch from his skate brand GC7 and serving up wild stories from his youth. A native New Yorker who worked as an MTA mechanic for 28 years, John built GC7 as a callback to his youth: the brand is named after an abandoned “fun park” called Golf City where he grew up riding dirt bikes and skating with his friends “before internet, cable TV and social media ever existed.”

At another point in the night, I was sitting in the tree house while Sophia, the onsite tattoo artist, was inking a dozen or more ants around a guy’s elbow; she had met Jake, the organizer, through another mutual friend in the music scene.

Before leaving, I also had a chance to chat with parents of some of the band members, who were super excited to see their children perform on stage at a festival.

Community organizing of any kind, whether it is a small potluck or an all-day music festival, requires countless hours of invisible labor, personal financial sacrifice, and a whole lot of selflessness. The Pet Sounds Music Banquet almost felt like a love song Jake Murray wrote to the New York indie music community.

And for one night, we all got to sing along.

If you want to listen to the sounds of bands that performed, check out the playlist below:

Picture this: You're in Prague with nothing but your decks and barely-conversational knowledge of Czech. You want to play a set. You know absolutely nobody. What's a wandering bedroom producer to do?

If you're Kurt—also known as Trox—you tap your good friend Jean to email every freak they've ever met until someone knows someone who's also raving their way through Eastern Europe. Enter Devin. Before you know it, you two are packing clubs full of fellow lost souls for your first gig abroad. Not bad for a Tuesday.

Back on American soil, Trox meets me off Myrtle and Broadway, at High & Dry Coffee Bar. He's running late and visibly twitchy, the kind of nervous energy that suggests either too much caffeine or not enough sleep. Probably both, given we first met at 3 am on a weekday (shoutout to Rocka Rolla’s $3 Bud goblets and Toby, our mutual connection and Mansion Studios producer/engineer).

We start at the beginning, back home in Montreal. Troxell was entirely self-engineered, born entirely in the past few years. “I spent the first 18 or so years of my life thinking that I had to grow up and be a doctor or something.” His upbringing didn’t exactly scream “music scene” — no one handed him a CDJ-3000 and deemed it his calling. Now, he’s working with producers who started making income from music during middle school, skipped college, and work at Flux Studios. It's enough to give anyone imposter syndrome.

COVID lockdown livestream raves were a different beast entirely. Some baked sourdough, others solved crossword puzzles. On the other hand, Troxell saw an artist’s path to human connection on a massive scale.

With lockdown restrictions easing, he emerged a different artist — one that was ready to go live. Naturally, he packed his bags for New York.

Troxell production is always genre-bending: ranging from hip-hop to techno to electronica to indie with bass that drags you underwater before surfacing for air with POSIC’s alluring voice, then straight into hypnotic emo ambience. Fair warning: don't listen while driving unless you’re looking to dance with a lamp post. Do listen if you just picked up some good weed.

Here’s the catch: Trox doesn’t want to pick a sonic corner. Marketing demands artists pick a niche: are you trance or hyper-pop? Vinyl or digital? As if mixing methods and marrying tracks isn’t what makes the greats so great. “I would get bored with myself if I just played one genre or sound all night, and if I’m boring myself up there then we really have a problem."

"Everything seems to be about content, not art," he deadpans with distaste. "I've never spent hours doomscrolling and felt it made my brain healthier." Social media transformed his heroes' careers, now it feels like a fight for water when the well has run dry. He wants to make music, not play influencer. Isn’t that enough?

Electronic music's delights are reaching every demographic now, rolling out of basement raves and into the mainstream buffet where anyone can sample the goods. Collectively obsessive, this generation demands radical energy.

And as long as New Yorkers aren't too cool to move their feet, Troxell will keep supplying the soundtrack.

Catch our golden guy spinning as Troxell: find him @1troxell or at 1troxell.com, assuming he's not lost on the A train.