Underground. NYC

It is a constant and immediate understanding that every city I end up in will have it’s own version of an underground. Whether it be House, or Techno, or DnB, or even Hip-Hop for that matter, that seems to be one common thread I keep finding no matter where I go.

A subculture, created as a response to the mainstream that consumes each and every part of our daily lives. Every city has it, regardless of size or interest, and once you learn the ability to find it in one place, you are eventually able to find it anywhere. Then after a while it just starts to find you.

That’s how I feel today, sitting at my desk, typing these words to you now. I didn’t find the underground, the underground FOUND me. And because of that it has taken me to many places in this great land, all of them for the music, with each one teaching me a lesson. The lessons I used to finally find the underground in the biggest city out there. New York City.

We had been to New York City before, but I see so clearly how different things were back then. It was just before the quarantine and we were going for a two day festival called Time Warp. I was as high on that one as any trip I had taken before, and now looking back I know I wasn’t ready for the Underground yet.

It’s so silly saying that now since by then we had been to Underground shows in Detroit, Los Angeles, El Paso, Denver and many other cities, but none of them are quite like New York.

Especially because, in this city, the Underground means something a little bit different than anywhere else.

First, there’s the obvious Underground. To us, at least, in the music scene. The underground you expect. The “metaphorical” underground.

But then there’s the other kind. The actual Underground. And I’m not saying this in metaphors or codes or anything like that. I’m saying this as in the literal Underground. Seen best in the never-ending tunnels, walking paths and darkened hallways of the fucking Subway System.

We didn’t ride the Subway at all the first time. Mainly staying in the Bronx next to where the festival was. But this time was different.

This time I estimate the majority of our time was spent underground in the Subways. Waiting for our train, or wandering the hallways that lead from one line to the other.

Going downstairs, deeper into the darkness.

There’s an entire population of the city that spends all their time below ground. Hustling back and forth as people play music, or dance for change, or stand at their news stand completely unaware that there’s a Sun above ground.

I wonder still how many of them actually go up sometimes just to see the sky again for a bit, although they won’t see much as the giant skyscrapers block almost all of it out anyways.

What an amazingly large city to feel so small in, which I suppose is why the underground is so easy to accept for so many people.

As above so below in New York City.

It’s not just the Subways either, as you’ll find nearly every building big enough has a lower level and a few uppers as well. So many people in a city that has been there so long, all they can do is build up and down as far as they can go. Where else do they have left?

There was even a moment where I found myself sitting at a bench outside the World Trade Center memorial, only to look down and find at my feet, nearly five stories below me an entire mall built below the streets of the city. Something I would’ve never believed if I had not seen it myself.

Everywhere I went. New York was above me and also below.

That was the state I was in, when I finally made it to the underground I’m used to in the big city, with us finally having a night at Basement NY, a techno club made out of a basement below the Knockdown Center in Queens, just next to Brooklyn, which is where we stayed this time.

The night before we had seen the amazing Charlotte De Witte play all night long at the Brooklyn Mirage with what can only be seen as a declaration of where techno and the DJ herself are going in the future.

Such a stage, such a production, such an overwhelming sound coming out of the speakers.

It felt like we were at Mt. Olympus and Charlotte was making her claim as the Goddess of Techno.

I even joked that she must be the reincarnation of Athena herself, choosing to conquer the world with Techno this time. I’m still convinced this one might be true.

By all accounts it was amazing and life changing, and yet even with saying that, there’s no way I could ever compare that night to what I found in that Basement. What I found was the true face of techno. What I found was the Promised Land.

It started like many other places we’ve been to that play techno in the underground. With three big men inspecting us to make sure we could get in. And they never ask for tickets, and they never say much, but you know what’s happening when you’re standing there.

They’re making sure you know where you are, that you know what you’re doing, that you can handle yourself inside. It’s such a simple moment and yet one that is so universal. They ask how you’re doing, making sure you’re not too fucked up already, and you look them in the eye, and they make sure you’re dressed properly, and they simply nod, and say have a good time.

They’re making sure you belong, and as silly as that sounds, you feel comforted in knowing that you do.

From there you walk down a path into the darkness, and that is the last moment of reality that you will remember from the night, because after that, its all just a dream. A beautiful and frightening dream. The one you’ve always had. If you’ve always loved techno, at least.

You can already hear the music getting closer and closer and yet, you can see next to nothing. So consumed by fog, and smoke, and darkness all you can do is slowly move forward. Closer and closer to the amazing sound that lies at the other end of the basement.

You can’t see the DJ, but you know they are there. I think for a moment in the night I saw a silhouette of someone wearing headphones, and yet I have no idea who they really were. All I could see was the one light in the corner where the music seemed to be vibrating out all around us.

It resembled a monster that jumped into the walls and quickly crawled towards you on the dancefloor. Consuming you and forcing you to dance nonstop like a zombie in the night. A zombie covered in sweat and smiling from ear to ear.

The DJ’s scheduled to play for the night were UMFANG, Beatrice and Luke Slater although I’ll admit I have no idea who was playing or when. I just know that we got there and we started to dance, and the DJ played, and we all had each other in the darkness.

Far too often people are so consumed by set times, and so afraid they’ll miss the headliner that they forget to just enjoy the night, and I’d see that first hand with a lot of people in Chicago for the Boris Brechja after party, but this wasn’t that night and this isn’t that story.

I know when Luke Slater was playing later in the night but that’s because I had seen him before and I recognized a song he played, but even with saying that, I’ve never heard Techno like that before. It was so raw, and real, and stripped of all the glamour that seems to be associated with this culture these days.

It was just a bunch of strangers in the basement of a warehouse dancing in the darkness together because we loved the music. And the DJ’s were just people in the darkness too. Isn’t that why they joined this culture as well? To get lost all the same? Don’t they deserve that too?

We must have been down in that basement for four to five hours and yet all we could do was dance and enjoy the moment we had. The moment we worked so hard and traveled so far to experience for ourselves.

There was even a moment in the night where the music got a bit low, and everybody could feel it, and we were upset the sound system wasn’t bumping, but still we danced because it was so good, and we remained committed to that dancefloor.

Then a bit later, as the music built, suddenly the sound system kicked back in as well, and the noise was so loud all it could do was shout into the underground, and we, it’s disciples, all shouted in unison back. We were so connected at that moment and so fucking alive.

I will never feel that again, and still I know I can’t ever let it go.

Then there was another moment when It started to become morning, where we went and sat outside to smoke on our weed that we snuck into the show, and we sat underneath this massive chimney that towered up into the sky over us, and my date made a joke,

“Geeze, are we in Brooklyn or Berlin?” and we laughed, because the statement could not be more true.

Which is when I looked out and saw all the people dancing with us all night now that they were out in the moonlight as well.

All wearing black. All with colorful hair, or piercings, or tattoos. All out to smoke a cigarette, or a joint, or just to enjoy the cool air for a moment. All here because we all love this music and in the end, this culture.

We could have been anywhere in the world, and still, we’d probably be doing this same exact thing.

Our culture is our calling no matter where we end up.

From there we went back inside and danced for a while more and we never could find the bathroom all night. But what we did find were all these hidden walkways and pockets to sneak into and kiss and do a bump of k together, and just enjoy the darkness and the fog.

To enjoy the New York underground one more time.

Then sometime after five we decided it was time to go, and even though the music was still going I wanted it that way. Sometimes I’m obsessed with staying until the last track, and sometimes I like leaving knowing the music is still going.

That way somehow in my heart, the basement never stopped, and the techno is still alive out there right now. I need to know that about this one.

After that we went back to our hotel and passed out under the slowly rising sun, before spending one more day wandering those Subways all around the city. Under the rivers, under the skyscrapers, under the monuments everybody travels so far to see.

And we spent a moment seeing Madison Square Garden and the Empire State building, but I’ll admit it felt a bit weird. We felt a bit off. It just wasn’t where we belonged. We belonged downstairs with all the rest of the people like us.

We belonged where we always end up. No matter the place, or the time, or the reason. We belonged in the Underground.

Especially in NYC.

Come find me on the dancefloor some time.

I think you’ll know where I’ll be.