It's a Saturday night...
Somewhere in the city, thousands excitedly pack into a huge venue, drawn in by the promise of something spectacular, international headliners, world-class lighting design, a sight to behold. At peak moments of feeling something, phones are raised, that moment seemingly captured, and by morning the internet is flooded with proof: this was a good time.
Elsewhere, a gaggle of baddies apply another coat of lip gloss before crawling under a fence in the dark, following a distant kick drum into the unknown. There’s no guarantee it won’t get shut down, but the illegality adds to the thrill. Just sound, bodies, and a shared sense of risk. We don’t know the lineup; we don’t know who owns the abandoned space, but for a few hours, it belongs entirely to those inside it.
Hot tips
(besides ‘be the change you want to see in the world’…)
- Can’t recognise any of the names on the line up? Jump on soundcloud to research their sound.
- Is there a venue you have enjoyed previously? Check their socials for flyers to see what else they have on.
- Want to become part of the community? Support crews online, show up early, learn how it all operates.
Stay up to date with what’s happening in and around Melbourne here.
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Somewhere in between sits the club space, increasingly under pressure with rising insurance costs, tighter liquor regulations, and with such limited support for the arts in australia (we have lost a third [1,300!] of our live music venues since 2020) it makes it even harder for venues to survive week to week – but somehow amongst the chaos blossoms beauty, small collectives with big ideas are keeping australias’ club scene afloat, you’ve just got to find them.
People crave connection more than ever, yet they’re less willing to take risks to find it. if you can’t see that something’s going to be a good time, why would you spend your money on it in this climate!? Visibility has become a kind of reassurance. Every video shared extends the life of a party and signals to others where they might find that same feeling. If there was a party in the woods and no one filmed it, did it really ever happen at all?
If there was a party in the woods and no one filmed it, did it really ever happen at all?
So now naturally the most visible events become the most desirable, but some of the most powerful dancefloor experiences don’t translate to a screen at all. they exist in smaller, more intimate & less commercial environments where connection isn’t a visible or marketable feeling, spaces where phones might disappear and people are more present with each other. These moments of shared bliss are harder to capture and even harder to explain, which makes them easy to overlook when everything else is so heavily documented.
Imagine a place where you can be yourself, moving your body however you like, having your favourite music played to you by someone you can relate to, find a hundred new friends or silently groove anonymously in the shadows – this all exists. People just like you have wanted the same, couldn’t find it so made it themselves. This is where the magic lies, no external influence or commercial hype, just pure passion for a scene that’s definitely going through its awkward phase…
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Big fancy production events aren’t the enemy. The current wave of 18- to 24 year olds came of age during covid, those years that would normally shape how we socialise, explore music, and figure out what we’re into. Instead, all that happened through a screen – there’s no wonder they need all those visuals to feel entertained.
It also makes sense that people are drawn to what they’ve already seen or a brand they can trust. When entry alone can feel like a gamble, people become more selective. They’ll either save for a large-scale event they trust will deliver, or they’ll go the other way towards something more accessible, often in the form of free or underground parties.
There’s also a cultural tension that comes with all of these changes. As new people enter the scene through trends or virality, those who’ve been around longer can feel protective of the music, the spaces, the history. But every one of us was new once. What feels overexposed to one person is still brand new to someone else. Scenes don’t stagnate, it’s cyclical. They grow, they peak, they fragment, and they rebuild.
And sometimes, we have to do the building ourselves. Share music, respect spaces, and keep creating the kinds of environments that meant something to us. and for those who feel most connected in a crowd of thousands, completely immersed in the moment they are capturing- it’s still community. They are still connected to something… not every space needs to suit your particular tastes. If the places that once felt meaningful don’t feel the same anymore, it doesn’t mean the culture is gone, it just means it’s changing.
Find your people again. Keep looking. There really is something for everyone, and if there isn’t, build it. because whether it’s dancing amongst seven thousand people or climbing up a fire escape into the unknown, whether it’s captured on a screen or only exists in our memories, we’re seemingly all chasing the same thing: to feel something real, together.
If you’re now feeling curious, head to revolver upstairs this 14 august for shadows. Tickets and more information here.
