Sounds of the Summer
September 29, 2023
The Month in Music, September
October 17, 2023
Comment: a series of unsolicited opinions on the state of the scene.
Right now it’s a difficult time to create. It feels like few industries are insulated from the cost-of-living crisis and the arts are more vulnerable than most. What’s true for the arts in general is perhaps even more so for those involved in the electronic music scene, which receives little in the way of government support. The difficulties facing the arts is perhaps a well-worn topic, but a late summer Instagram post from Waking Life festival raised it once again.
For those who haven’t had the joy of attending, Waking Life is quite simply the closest thing to personal utopia that I’ve ever (and I think I will ever) encountered. It is a festival that does things differently – a mad hatter’s tea party with a perfect soundtrack. And in this same spirit of difference, the organisers recently released all of their financial information from each year of the festival, stretching back to 2017 (if you’re interested, you can take a look here).
On many levels it makes for striking reading – the expenses and financial risk involved seem vast. But what also shines through these statistics is the values underpinning the festival: the sacrifices of those organising is it (who have worked for free on many editions); the amount of money spent on regenerating the festival land over the past three years; and the absence of corporate sponsorship in a scene increasingly accompanied by brand partnerships and private investment.
In short it is a fascinating insight into the financial vulnerability of running such an event. In many ways, this is unsurprising: so much of what I loved about Waking Life was the sense that it was not being organised for profit.
A vast site produces spacious dancefloors, an unparalleled sense of immersion and the opportunity for countless wonderful interactions – but it also means putting atmosphere over ticket sales. An excess of quirky structures and spaces provide no money for the organisers (only greater expenses) but they all contribute to the sense that you are participating in something different. Four days of 24-hour music across multiple stages results in a lot of artist booking fees but it also creates the conditions for truly transformative musical experiences.
All this matters because it feels rare, almost precious. Culture that positions itself outside of the mainstream will always and inevitably be accompanied by the conversation around ‘selling out’ and electronic music is no different. But it feels like we are at something of an inflection point.
Small venues are struggling to stay open in the face of licensing issues and government action, and yet cavernous ‘super-clubs’ with the same old uninspiring lineups appear to be on the rise. Brands have decided that club culture is an easy way to bring excitement to otherwise tired marketing and platforms like Boiler Room have been more than happy to play along. Spaces like that created at and by Waking Life are the absolute best of electronic music and they need to be supported.
All of this is to say that if you are starting to think about next summer (is it ever too early?) and a combination of idyllic setting, genuine community and impeccable musical curation appeals to you then get Waking Life in your diary. It is, to me, the epitome of what electronic music can and should be about – the kind of weekend that makes the world feel like a warmer and brighter place. I spent much of the 2022 edition with my jaw on the floor and my programme in my hands, trying to work out who was playing and why they were so good. Levon Vincent played Opening (Glass) at 6am on Sunday morning and I listened to little else for the week afterwards. It is a special place and a unique organisation and it would be heartbreaking to see it collapse under the strain of financial difficulties – so if you are interested and have the means to do so, buy a ticket.
