Blurb:

Telling stories about raving is all very well but what about when the raving itself is harder to come by? This is my conundrum as a long-time fan of raving who missed the mythical first wave. I spent my teenage years getting to grips with why music was being made on machines and failing to find places to watch this happen. A suburban upbringing, a strict Scottish Dad and a rural university experience didn’t help fill the gaps. So, it was London at the start of the new millennium where I could finally find the dirt and start making my own rave memories. The monthly Warp Records events held at the Elektrowerkz were loud, filthy and completely terrifying. They were strange, experimental and took two full days to recover from. This is my story of finding the mythical rave dirt and of trying to piece it together again twenty years later.