“A great [dance] club is one that forces you into deep physical proximity with other people and things that you would normally detest in real life,” Simon Reynolds, a music critic and historian, said. “Your sense of separateness from other people dissolves. The experience on the dance floor is a communism of one emotion, euphoria.”
On March 6, Reynolds spoke about the intricacies of connection at music festivals and raves for the latest lecture in the Humanities Studio’s Connections series.
A well-known critic of British popular music, Reynolds has contributed to publications including Spin, Rolling Stone and The New York Times, among others. He has also written several books, most recently “Futuromania: Electronic Dreams, Desiring Machines, and Tomorrow’s Music Today.”
Kevin Dettmar, W.M. Keck professor of English and director of the Humanities Studio, explained that Reynolds’ writing provides a unique, accessible perspective on music criticism, which is especially relevant to the theme of connection.
“[His writing is able to describe] what it felt like to hear a piece of music or to be in a space and hear music for the first time,” Dettmar said. “Instead of [music] being this abstract aesthetic object, it’s something that people incorporate into their lives and use to form relationships and understand the world.”
Reynolds described opposing views on ecstatic concert crowds as either liberatory and freeing versus promoting mob mentality.
“The tribe comes into existence in particular places, clubs, raves, record shops,” Reynolds said. “It’s kind of postmodern … You’re dipping in and out of this identity constantly.”
He illustrated this point through a 1976 photograph, titled “‘Jesus’ Amongst Fans,” of the Great British Music Festival. In the photo, one fan, now known to be a music messiah named William Gillette, appears thoroughly intoxicated by the music, while the crowd around him seems dejected and disengaged.
“[Gillette] represents a certain idea of rock music [with] a whole crowd of people in this state of mass ecstasy,” Reynolds said. “In the 70s, when bands were starting to play arenas and stadiums, a lot of rock critics were very suspicious of that and would often say that the vibe was like a Nuremberg rally … large assemblies of people intoxicated by a leader.”
In the 1970s funk scene, DJs would encourage chaotic, unruly behavior by doing dance moves that the crowd would then echo, creating a sense of mass identity.
Attendee Friederike von Schwerin-High, professor of German and Russian at Pomona, enjoyed how Reynolds provided an integrated perspective on alternative music scenes over time.
“I thought it was fascinating that some [scenes] are so successful and others are so utterly unsuccessful,” von Schwerin-High said. “Apparently no one can control how they’re going to go.”
Reynolds used the funk scene to illustrate elective tribalism, where individuals choose to participate in music scenes with extreme fervor, as if part of a micronation or movement.
“The tribe comes into existence in particular places, clubs, raves, record shops,” Reynolds said. “It’s kind of postmodern … You’re dipping in and out of this identity constantly.”
This ecstatic experience of raves and clubs demonstrates Zone 1 of the zone theory of live music, a concept proposed by anthropologist Wendy Fonarow. Zone 1 is the closest experience to that of a mosh pit, with high crowding, an expectation of dancing and sometimes an altered state of consciousness.
Zone 2 is more focused on the music itself with less physical responses, while Zone 3 has limited emphasis on appreciating the music itself — music industry professionals discussing record deals, for example.
Reynolds presented a historical, almost anthropological, view on the cultural significance of alternative dance music and raves, reminding us of the power of music to simultaneously connect and divide us.
Attendee Jason Alperin PO ’28 appreciated the diversity of the music discussed as well as Reynolds’ interdisciplinary perspective.
“I didn’t expect the range of different musical sources,” Alperin said. “I thought it was really interesting, the way he applies humanities and philosophy thinking to popular music.”
Throughout the lecture, Reynolds sprinkled in anecdotes related to his experiences at music festivals and raves as both a critic and participant. In one particularly funny story, he went to critique a rave and took ecstasy. While in this state, he passed around his notepad asking for a collective review, only to find indecipherable scribbles.
“It’s a weird double consciousness kind of thing … If you go to review something, you have to constantly be stepping outside the experience,” Reynolds said. “Once you’ve gone down the path of being a critic, it’s hard to turn it off.”
Ironically, due to technical difficulties, the lecture lacked any music.
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