POUNDING SOUND OF CASH by Rachel Johnson Financial Times, Weekend October 30/31, 1993 Clouds of smoke from dry ice parted to reveal Lisa, aged 16, on a concrete block, clad in hot-pants and platform boots, jerking her body to the beat that pumped from the sound system. Her eyes were shut and in one hand she held a small bottle of Evian mineral water. It was 4am at the Ministry of Sound, the south London night club, and the Friday night rave had only just got going. A decade ago, Lisa might have been sipping lager at a friend's house, or more probably at that hour tucked up in bed. But increasing numbers of her generation are spending their time and money in a new wave of clubs - of which the cavernous Ministry of Sound run by James Palumbo, son of property-developer Lord Palumbo is a thriving example. The club has a no-alcohol, no-drugs, no-weapons policy, enforced by hulking bouncers. The attraction is the rave culture of all- night dancing in a sweaty intimate atmosphere induced by the stimulant Ecstasy which is taken by many dancers before they arrive, or secretively when there. It is about seven years since rave -which combines hedonistic Mediterranean discos and the electronic dance music of 1970s New York and Detroit - seized the imagination of Britain's 15 to 24 year olds. But it is only this week that its economic impact - in particular on the nation's pubs and off-licenses - has been qualified. According to estimates from the Henly Centre, the research institute, young people make 1m visits to raves each week. Each time they spend as much as £35 and stay up to 24 hours. The annual spending at raves is estimated at between £1.5bn and £2bn - five times more than total UK spending on cinema admissions, and equivalent to a quarter of spending on spirits. In addition, up to a third of those at a rave will have taken drugs such as Ecstasy - at about £15 a tab - speed (amphetamine) or cocaine. The biggest losers have been pubs, where visits by young people fell 11 percent between 1987 and 1991. The are forecast by the Henley Centre to fall a further 20 percent by 1997. The trend will hardly thrill Britain's publicans. But there is reason for them and other traditional leisure venues, to relax a little. Rave has been a fast-changing culture in its short life, and today's fads may look outdated in a year. Among the cognoscenti, the original concept of a rave is already old-fashioned. Asif Noorani, a 21 year old who writes about popular culture for the Modern Review magazine, says young people are rejecting the large, expensive raves that mushroomed in the late 1980s to seek a cheaper rave experience in clubs. "Rave" suggest hordes of 16-year-olds with bottles of Vicks' VapoRub [which is inhaled to clear the head before taking Ecstasy]. The first ravers were people lived for Ecstasy, and didn't understand the music" he says. Until about 1989, rave centered on events in open fields in the West Midlands, for example, or on an "orbital rave" around the M25. Organisers of such raves had no license to sell tickets; they took advantage of a legal loophole and claimed the gatherings were parties - and passed around a bucket for contributions. It was all about thousands of people taking as many drugs as possible, listening to hardcore music. It was illegal and there fore a kick," says Matthew Butcher, 16 a pupil at Pimlico comprehensive. But pressure from the government and residents, the police cracked down on raves organised without local council permission. A number of entrepreneurs then tried to fill the gap in the market by organising licensed, mass-attendance raves costing £25 a head. These offered "interactive" alcohol-free entertainment, combining attractions such as laser shows, funfairs and trampolines with soft drinks and powerful sound systems. A sell-out crowd could generate an income of £400,000 a rave, excluding merchandise sales. But the scene has changed again - partly because the profitability of organised large-scale raves did not last. Fantazia, one of the few surviving promoters, is organising a "dance party" to raise money for the Terence Higgins Aids charity in Glasgow next month. It is charging £25 a ticket but need 12,000 to break even. It expects to spend more than £300,000 on organising the event: security alone will cost £40,000. Though the large-scale rave has probably peaked, experts agree with the Henley Centre that the culture is more that a passing fad. In the eyes of the young people, the new night clubs that offer a rave experience and that are replacing the large scale events, have more of a buzz than pubs. Matt Paice, 21, a London student, enjoys a drink. But to him an average night out means "kids sitting at home having a puff on a joint and then going to a club." Many young women, according to Lifeline, the Manchester drugs advisory agency, go to dance parties because its more burning off calories there than at the gym. Women also find the atmosphere induced by Ecstasy - the so-called "hug drug" because it triggers empathetic emotions - less threatening than the alcohol-induced aggression of pubs. "Unlike punk or grunge, raves are not a cult but rather a new leisure activity enjoyed by different types of young consumers." the Henley Centre concludes. To combat the threat, pubs could offer themselves as rave venues. But the attraction of clubs such as the Ministry of Sound is that they do not open until Midnight - and ravers want to escape the staid conventions of a night at the local. It seems decibels and mineral water will be the scene for years to come.