- I wasn't expecting hardstyle. But there I was, standing in a Bushwick warehouse, squinting through the fluorescent fog and being pelted by the gnarled kick drums of some vintage Scooter track. Lenny Dee was at the controls at the far end of the space, walled in by a tight semi-circle of hardcore fans dressed in metal-band shirts and hoodies, most of them bald or balding—some with fists in the air, others vying to get as close as possible with their iPhones.
I expected Storm Rave to just be a tribute to the techno parties that took place two decades ago in abandoned buildings from Flatbush to Staten Island, though I quickly realized this was actually a reunion of the original crew. In a refreshing turn of events, the fortysomething New York-area natives—those who attended Storm Raves before many of us were eating solid food—seemed to outnumber the young, hip demographic I had seen at most Red Bull Music Academy events. And the old-timers wanted it as hard as possible.
Dee moved manically through a frightening forty minutes of gabber and hard trance, before ceding the decks to Adam X, who played the most engaging set of the night. He dropped the energy back down to a more tenable level, beginning his set with a string of psychedelic, industrial-tinged '90s techno tracks. As the set progressed, X's cosmic synthesizer melodies and acid basslines began to melt away, leaving stark drum machine grooves and blown-out kick drums pounding away with the kind of sexless rigidity we had all been waiting for.
Frankie Bones, who had allowed X to take 30 minutes from his two-hour scheduled set, took to the tables with whooping applause from the die-hards. When the first unmistakable chords of Derrick May's "Strings Of Life" rang from the venue's massive rig, the smokers began to stream in from outside. Bones' set ran through countless '90s house and techno classics (he followed Derrick May with Plastikman's iconic "Spastik"), and he hopped excitedly between melody-driven house, mechanical techno, retro-futuristic Detroit electro and contemporary selections. His pacing and direction felt scattershot, however, and I heard more than one Storm Rave veteran expressing disappointment about the set, saying he played softer than they had expected.
Storm Rave was an impressive event, with big-budget lighting and sound, and a striking warehouse venue complete with new hardwood floors. It was conceptually compelling, and the Storm Rave story was properly contextualized by RBMA's various editorials. Like last year's Paradise Garage block party, which took place on the recently-renamed Larry Levan Way outside of the club's former location, RBMA didn't just slap a retro theme on a party in order to sell tickets. It's clear they worked closely with the original crew, who in turned brought their crowd out in droves, leading to a rare opportunity for multiple generations of nightlife cultures to meet on an equal footing.
Photo credits: Drew Gurian