(From the Dayton Daily News, Monday, Sept. 19, 1994.  This article was
presented alongside an companion articles about the violent punk rock
scene and modern graffiti... a "look what your kids are doing
behind your back" sort of thing. -MJB)

The rave: Energy, secrecy make it more than a dance party

By Cheryl L. Reed
Dayton Daily News

Fog rises from the floor as a dense cloud.  A rainbow of strobe lights
keeps pace with the music's staccato beat.  The floor seems to bend with
each bounding note.  Young bodies sway as they breathe a magic gas from
huge balloons.

Welcome to a "rave."

It is more than a dance party -- it is energy and secrecy.  It is
high-tech electronics melded with ancient hard-driving beats.

"The music is really energetic and it can't be experienced anywhere else,"
says Marvin Lee, 18, organizer of a rave that took place in Huber Heights
in late June.  "The music is more like an energetic, more underground
version of club music."

But clubs aren't the scenes of raves.  They are controlled by adults,
serve alcohol and close at 2 a.m., when raves are just beginning.

It was a phenomenon that began in London several years ago when squatters
had dance parties in vacant buildings.  In the United States, raves
originally took place in warehouses where organizers would not have proper
permits.  In general, though, rave parties have come to mean dance parties
that occur in the early morning hours, use vocal-less music and feature
high tech lighting and lasers.

Word of future raves are passed from one party to another with slick,
palm-sized pamphlets.

Vibrant graphic designs entice dancers with the names of national DJs who
travel the country spinning their creations of vocal-less "house music." 
Dancers dial a special hot line number on the fliers for directions.  The
exact location is kept secret until a few hours before midnight, the
bewitching hour when most raves begin.  And the party doesn't end until dawn.

Secrecy is part of the charm.  It's a way for teens and young adults to
thwart parents and police.  It's the endorphin rush of dancing until the
sun rises and getting away with it.

Many Dayton-area teens spend weekends traveling to Milwaukee, Detroit,
Columbus and other cities where they do their nocturnal groove and meet
other kids like themselves.

On Sept. 10, a rave titled "Voodoo", scheduled on the Antioch College
campus in Yellow Springs, was canceled at the last minute when more than
400 dancers showed up for an event that was supposed to accommodate 200.

Fire officials cited promoters with four major fire code violations, said
Holly Knight, Antioch College's director of public relations and publications.

As the dancers amassed on campus, police arrived in riot gear.

The party moved to a downtown Dayton dance hall, the Asylum, where
hundreds of teen-agers took to the pavement as they waited to get in. 
Wearing 3-D glasses, they swayed with heads hung low and arms waving neon
glow sticks.

But once the rave moved inside, it lost its underground attraction.

Many teens were turned away, because they weren't 18 or didn't have ID to
prove that they were.  Others were turned off by having to go through
metal wand detectors and a football team of bouncers.

The new location didn't seem to bother Jim Brook, 18, of Dayton, as he
jumped in the air wearing baggy clothes and a ski hat.  "It's the
adrenaline.  I like to dance and this music keeps you going."

While most kids admitted that their parents thought they were spending the
night at friends' houses, others said their parents approved of raves
because alcohol is not served.

Most rave parties serve fruit juices to energize dancers, but mind-altering
drugs are available.

"The rave scene has gotten a bad name," says Marvin Lee.  "It's really
misunderstood.  People think it's bad because there's drugs there.  Every
scene has drugs.  It's pretty much unavoidable."

At the Huber Heights rave, kids lined up to buy "Whip-Its," giant balloons
filled with nitrous oxide -- the "laughing gas" some dentists use to make
you forget about a tooth extraction.  At $5 a pop, the gas gives a
30-second fix that is said to enhance the marriage of the music and lights.

At the Dayton rave, several dancers were drinking lemonade laced with
acid, another popular rave drug, when one Columbus dancer suffered a
violent reaction.  Body guards wrestled the young man and threw him
outside on the asphalt, where he lay bleeding and vomiting for several
minutes.  Then he charged at people, screaming incoherently about wanting
to spin the music and asking guards if he was a menace to society.

"These things aren't about drugs," said David Herrin, 17, of Dayton, as he
looked at the man flinching on the ground.  "It's just for people to have
a good time.  When somebody freaks out like that it gives it a bad name."

==============

(The following is a front-page article from the Yellow Springs News, 
Sept. 15, 1994)

A dance party that didn't happen
-by Amy Harper

The crowd of a hundred-some people gathered Saturday night in the Antioch 
Theater parking lot was ready for a party.  Some had come from Milwaukee 
and Chicago, Detroit and Louisville, others from Columbus, Dayton and 
Cincinnati, all lured by the promise of something different.

That something, according to its organizers, was an underground all-night 
dance party, featuring top-name performer Vapour Space and several other 
artists playing "futuristic computer-generated electronic music."  Crews 
had been working since mid-afternoon to install an impressive array of 
sound and lighting equipment inside the theater, including a laser simulator.

But the people who came to dance the night away --the party was scheduled 
for 11 p.m. to 6 a.m.-- never made it inside the door.  Before the first 
note was sounded, the event was abruptly called off by Antioch and the 
crowd ordered to disperse by local police, who had been called in by 
Antioch College security officers.  Standing by to assist local officers 
if necessary were seven members of the Greene County Sheriff's 
Department, the hard helmets and visors of their riot gear reflecting the 
overhead street lights.

The crowd, however, was far from riotous.  People grumbled among 
themselves and expressed disappointment, but they departed quietly, urged 
to do so by the event's principal organizer, Kourosh, of Dayton, who 
asked that his last name not be used.  "This is crazy," he said.  "I 
can't believe this is happening.  We were convicted before we did anything."

Others who helped organize the event say they were victims of prejudice.  
"I think we're dealing with a case of bigotry here," said one woman, 
referring to the mistaken impression that the dance party was going to be 
a raucous affair.  "I didn't expect this in Yellow Springs."

Antioch Theater Department head Louise Smith, who rented the theater 
space to Kourosh, called the affair "unfortunate," and the result of 
"mistakes made on both sides."

In the first place, the contract she signed "did not go through the 
proper administrative procedures for authorization" by the college.  In 
addition, she said, the event was "misrepresented" from the beginning.

She said she was first approached about it last spring by a former 
Antioch student, who was acting as an intermediary for Kourosh.  "I 
thought it was going to be a local funky dance party," said Smith, adding 
that she understood there would be only about 200 people attending.  That 
was still the assumption when she met Kourosh for the first time and 
signed the contract renting the theater space September 8th, two days 
before the party.*

Smith said she became "real aware" that the funky party she expected was 
actually a major event Saturday evening when she saw all the equipment 
and when people started arriving around 11 p.m., quickly filling up the 
parking lot with their cars.

Kourosh said he had indicated to Smith the possibility of 300-500 people, 
but Smith said she does not remember that being said.  "I think they were 
intentionally vague," she said.  "I think they wanted me to stay ignorant 
as long as possible."

Kourosh said it would have been impossible to say just how many people 
would be attending based on the crowd at the time the party was called 
off.  Dance party organizers estimated that crowd at 100-150 people 
other estimates were as high as 300.  Though the event had been called 
off by midnight, expectant party-goers were still streaming in --and 
being turned away-- by the carload two-and-a-half hours later, said Smith.

Had she known there would be so many people, she would not have consented 
to rent the space, said Smith, noting that the main stage area of the 
theater is designed to hold only about 225 people.**

Even if the space had been capable of holding more people, neither 
Antioch nor the Yellow Springs police were prepared to deal with a large 
crowd, said Smith.  The event was a surprise to both, she said, 
indicating that she had failed to notify Antioch security about the party.
"There was a gap in communication," she said.

While the unexpected number of people was an issue for Antioch, the 
college's primary concern, said Smith, had to do with several fire code 
violations resulting form the way the equipment for the dance party had 
been set up.  The eight violations cited by Miami Township Fire and 
Rescue, who were called in for an inspection, included a blocked exit.

"In a way it's fortunate that it never got off the ground," said Smith.  
"Had it happened it would have been a big safety hazard."

Dance party organizers said they were never told Saturday night about the 
violations and added that they may have been able to address them if 
given the opportunity.

Smith also said it appeared that dance party organizers had intended to 
use parts of the theatre building in ways not specified in the rental 
agreement.  Party organizers said they felt they had respected the terms 
of that agreement.

The cancellation of the event, said Kourosh, resulted in the loss of 
several thousand dollars.  "I've been borrowing money yesterday and today 
to pay off performers," he said Monday.

Kourosh said he was consulting with his attorneys about the matter and 
hoped to discuss it further with ANtioch.

He was not critical of local police involvement in the affair, saying 
they handled it well and appeared to be "caught in the middle."  He and 
others did, however, question the need for the riot squad, which was 
called by the Yellow Springs police.  Officer Tom Jones, who was on duty 
Saturday, said the riot squad was called to serve as a back-up.  Jones 
said Kourosh had initially refused to call off the party.

Smith, who has been director of the Theater Department for a year, said 
she regrets the problems caused by the cancellation.  She is interested, 
she said, in allowing community use of the theater building for other 
than theater events.

"If it's a local event, if it's student-generated, if the people are 
responsible, that kind of event I'm all in favor of," she said.  "I want 
to make the building available and be generous with our resources.  But 
it has to be done properly.  This just wasn't."

Kourosh said Monday he has promoted other dance parties in the Dayton 
area and never had the kind of problem he experienced Saturday.  He said 
he had tried to do everything "by the book" and thought he had addressed 
all the necessary details.  The disappointing reception, he indicated, 
may have had something to do with people's perception about the kind of 
event he and his fellow organizers had planned.

Though he and others stressed that it was a dance party, some in the 
crowd, including police and Antioch officials, thought of it as a "rave," 
an impromptu underground all-night dance party often associated with 
alcohol, drugs and rowdy behavior.  Raves, which depend primarily on 
word-of-mouth for advertisement, are often held without permission in 
warehouses or other structures.

The advance planning that went into Saturday's aborted event 
distinguished it form a traditional rave, said Kourosh.  So did the 
well-behaved low-key crowd.  The kind of music he was promoting, said 
Kourosh, does not generally attract boisterous crowds, though he noted 
that he had hired ten people to deal with problems if necessary.

His interest, he said, was in sponsoring an event for people interested 
in computer-generated electronic music, which does not receive much 
mainstream radio play.  "I was trying to create an event," he said.  "We 
were doing something different that a lot of people are after."

While the loss of money is troubling, the loss of credibility as a dance 
party promoter is devastating, said Kourosh.  "It hurt my reputation big 
time," he said.  "I really doubt I can bring in big names after this.  I 
personally don't feel like throwing another big party ever again."

"I am so disappointed," he said.  "All this work I have done..."

While Kourosh did not benefit from that work, at least one local business 
did.  Subway restaurant, said its manager, had about 200 customers who 
suddenly appeared around midnight.  "We had a great night," he said, 
indicating that some advance notice would have allowed the business to 
serve even more people.  "I wish we had known it was coming."


---
Notes from the typist:

*  [Smith was in New York over the summer and could not be reached until
the week before the event]

** [They neglected to mention that there were 2 other rooms and an outdoor
chill-out area, all with sound systems, to accomodate any overflow of 
people. I'm unsure of the legal capacity for the additional rooms.]