“No one man owns house because house music is a universal language / spoken and understood by all.
House is a feeling that no one can understand really / unless you’re deep into the vibe of house.”
The above lyric is the “be all, end all.” House music, from the beginning, was about the desire to be free: free of restraint; free of societal baggage; free to be whomever you wanted to be whenever you wanted to be it. House music used to be about therapy, about shared experiences, about finding the things we have in common with those whom we’re not common with. And, at some point, dance music lost that energy.
Thanks in no small part, however, to the dedication and perseverance of some, the dance music community seems to be back on track with a newfound desire to reach deep into the chasm, rediscover the roots of house music, and embrace its very nuanced, remarkably colorful history. This is occurring partially through the carefully plotted implementation of bringing back the warehouse rave. A type of event popularized in the 90’s during the first major wave of dance music, warehouse raves were largely underground, grassroots organized, and resourced mainly by – and for – other DJs and the hardcore dance music fanatics. As these happenings increased in popularity, so did the flow of house music into the mainstream (especially in markets overseas where parties like Fatboy Slim’s Brighton Beach gatherings quickly grew to crowds reaching the thousands). With locations typically secret until the day of, and boasting major talents looking to take part in something more intimate, these kinds of parties became notorious for their “Be there or be square” level of cool where it became a status symbol for those who were able to attend.
In recent months, artists like Hot Since 82, Annie Mac, and organizations like Boiler Room have begun making headlines for attempting to throw dance music culture back to the heyday of techno and trance by re-popularizing the warehouse rave. Through holding secretive warehouse raves in an attempt to recapture some of the magic which has faded due to the explosion of EDM – and of the major, soul sucking festivals such as Ultra, TomorrowWorld, and Electric Daisy Carnival – these individuals are igniting a fire in the bellies of house heads looking for something with more substance. In other words, by bringing things back to the underground, many artists are sparking an increased interest in the underground in their followers. More importantly, these parties have started to make their way into D.C.’s own backyard.
On the forefront of Washington’s warehouse trend is a collective called ‘ROAM.’ Inspired by their experiences in club culture, and a life-changing trip to Movement Festival in Detroit a few years ago, a group of friends – Morgan Tepper, Chris Nitti, and Sami Yenigun – decided to start making waves in the burgeoning music scene which began blossoming in Washington. ROAMÂ was born.
A party founded on the principle of sharing underground music in secret locations throughout the city, ROAM has quickly become a much gossiped about, cultural cornerstone in D.C.’s dance music community as its growth has started to bleed into Washington’s mainstream nightlife scene. It’s the kind of happening that cherishes the cultural history of raving and dance music; a safe space where things like gender, sexuality, or walk of life are inconsequential and all that matters are the music and the vibe. With this foundation, the ROAM crew are painting an eclectic portrait for people to experience and enjoy. By and large, it’s a party that offers a unique perspective organized by the hip kids at the club who can tell you the difference between techno, grime, deep house, and everything in between.
With focus on the correct balance of music, atmosphere, and social relevance, the ROAM crew is making strides by taking club culture where it needs to be at the moment: somewhere that acknowledges the past and understands the connective tissue between it and the future. This balance is how a rave at one of their parties is nothing like the raves you can expect at a venue like Echostage; the types of events at Echostage are, frankly, more about money, booking large acts, and being a loud audiovisual feast than the actual shared experience of being united through music. On the contrary, ROAM is thriving because it is 100% about the music, the community, and the legacy of dance music and sharing those things with the uninitiated.
At any of these parties, be prepared for a sea of writhing bodies packing the dancefloor, Solo cups in hand, feet pounding into the concrete and sweat causing clothes to stick to skin like marshmallow on hot cement. The DJs play house music for house music’s sake; not because it’s popular, but because it’s a lifestyle and a mindset worth preserving. The venue, if you’re lucky enough to get an invite, is announced 24 hours before (and surprisingly well-guarded given today’s reliance on social media).
This attention to the purity of the experience is what makes ROAM so refreshing because there’s no room for irony, condescension, or baggage; it’s all about being at a place at a time to be yourself without a care in the world. It allows for sexual, ethnic, and cultural diversity – something which the mainstream EDM culture has been sorely lacking as of late. And by packing house time and time again, the event displays a real hunger for something with more substance and intellectual panache than $30 tickets, a light show, bottle service, and a dress code. In many ways, this is house for the masses: the experience which those in Chicago, Detroit, the gay community, and the dirty discotheques probably intended before it was raped by capitalist enterprise. Obviously, the scene is different and broader than it was 25 years ago, but events like ROAM are the baby steps the current generation of ravers should be walking in order to comprehend the power, and rich legacy, that dance music has to offer. A power which, for a long time, was obscured by the biggest bang you could get for your buck.
That’s not to say big, loud, and obnoxious can’t be fun. It can be. But if dance music wants to evolve and pay tribute to the house that built it, we need more parties with the intricacies and love for the lush cultural backdrop. We need more love for local DJs who are in the game because they feed off that love. We need more focus on history. We need more animals, more geeks, more weirdos, more rough edges. Thankfully, Washington, D.C., our home, has all of that. And you can find a lot of it at ROAM.