*I would like to state that none of the images from this story are mine, and all credit for them should be given to the compound photographers. My use of them is strictly as a way to help tell the story more and I claim no ownership over them.
Tonight, somewhere in a warehouse in or around Downtown Los Angeles, there will be a gathering of four crews to throw an event known to all the techno freaks in the area simply as Compound.
It’s become a bit of a tradition to those who know, and yet I’m a bit embarrassed to admit that I only attended one Compound to this date.
Although, I shouldn’t say embarrassed because I feel strongly that what was given to me on that one night, was more than I asked for. It gave me a chance to see things that were about to change before they actually did.
And I suppose I should also add that I don’t say that as much for Compound itself, but rather for the people I was there with, the people I may never go to another Compound with again, but as I said before, that one time was more than enough. Im grateful to share my Compound story.
It was the first one after the Quarantine, and therefore, full of DJ’s from the area, with a b2b of Truncate and Drumcell being the centerpiece under their two headed alias Cell Injection. A chance to return to the dancefloor set to the sounds of the DJ’s that lured me out into the dark LA night so many times before.
Looking back, a year later, I see so clearly it was a turning point for me and the people around me. Life starts to change even before you notice, and the people you meet through it start to go their own way. But that’s what you want for each other. It’s just a part of the whole ride.
When I was younger I used to resent this occurrence. Why did we have to lose friends? And these moments? And the chance to have it again? Why is the end always so completely the end?
As I’ve grown older I wish I had an answer for all of these questions, and yet I know now more than ever that sometimes with the end you just don’t get an answer. Sometimes you are just forced to live with it, one way or the other.
And I don’t wish for you to think this was the end, not at all, but rather, a change. A new beginning. Time for something different. For me and the friends I was with, at least.
We had a good run, though, for the most part. As it is with all friends. We went all over the place together. Festivals. Warehouses. Afterparties. Nightclubs. We had our good times.
But we were also growing apart, and I don’t feel we even wanted to see that a year ago. Maybe it’s not so easy sometimes to tell people, ‘it’s okay to let go’. But of course, as with the saying, you’ll have to let go too.
Compound was the moment I let go, and it’s tough to admit that, because I was the only one who knew it. But what a chance it really was.
The music pounded heavy and loud in the darkest corner of that massive warehouse as the lights and lasers and smoke just consumed us all. On top of that, it just felt so good to be back to what we loved.
The quarantine took so much more out of us all than just time, and I could feel the weight of it on that night. We wanted it back. We resented what it had forced out of us. How could we be the same if we didn’t have the music and each other? And now that it was back would we be able to go back as well? Was it too late for us?
We spent that night like we spent so many nights together. Running around, listening to music, and just enjoying the moment, with each other.
The back room was just like the back room always is. Hidden away, consumed by heat and darkness and overwhelming pulsating sounds. A complete surrender to the basic nature of Techno, surrounded by people you can’t even see, and yet you know they are there.
A spiritiual experience, to say the least.
There was even a moment, as the night turned to morning, maybe around 2 or 3 am that we were all sitting outside together, just for a minute. I suppose if I had to count there had to be ten people or more. All friends I made over my time traveling to Southern California through the music.
It was a very powerful moment to have. To them these moments must happen all the time, and yet I have no way of telling them, that as soon as they have them, they are over. And as we danced nonstop until the warehouse finally went silent, I can remember walking away that one last time. My first time, and perhaps my only.
What was I expecting? What did I find? I had more questions than answers, and yet I felt so comforted by saying, I finally went to Compound. It was the experience I needed, but then again, everyone is different for every person.
This year’s lineup features two absolutely outstanding European Techno Dj’s in O Phase and Rebekah. O Phase tears the roof off where ever he goes, and he helps set the standard not just for quality Techno Dj’s, but also for the music they make as well. O Phase at Compound will be an absolutely powerful experience.
Rebekah still to this day played one of the best techno sets I’ve ever heard in my life when I saw her play at Crssd Music Festival in San Diego, just south of where she’s playing tonight.
I can remember so clearly the moment she stepped up to the decks there at the City Steps right against the Oceanside, and the way she changed both the people listening in the crowd and also the environment around her.
It’s a moment where I knew, again, Techno was for me, and seeing the way she altered everything her music came into contact with was as powerful an example of Techno’s true nature as any moment I’ve ever experienced.
Rebekah is that good and she’s that unique. I am beyond excited for the people of LA tonight to hear how she sounds in a dark warehouse supported by the production that only Compound does.
So if you’re in LA, go have an experience of your own, and just remember, everyone is not like the last. But it doesn’t have to be. It just has to be right for you, and the people you’re there with. Right now.
The music is the excuse but not the reason. Go to Compound tonight. It’ll help show you that.
See you on the Dancefloor.
Ourdancefloor.net 