Don't stop being a tourist

I got an email last week from a reader who said they sometimes felt like a tourist when they were out in clubs. In their email, they claimed that they've only just come to clubbing in their 30's and they don't manage to make it out often.

I know what they mean about feeling like a tourist.

Even after years of spending my weekends in dark rooms listening to electronic music, there are still moments when I walk into a venue and feel completely out of place. Sometimes it's a different city. Sometimes it's a different genre. Sometimes it's just a crowd that seems to operate according to a set of unwritten rules I haven't quite learned yet. Everyone else appears to know where they're going, who they're there to see, and exactly how the night is supposed to unfold. Meanwhile, I'm standing near the back trying to find my rhythm.

For a long time, I thought that feeling was something to overcome.In my 20's I assumed that the goal of participating in club culture was to eventually become an insider. To know the right people, recognise the right names, and feel completely at home wherever I went. Flitting between booths and green rooms, seeing people I knew everywhere I went. Thing is, the older I get, the more I think there's something valuable about remaining a tourist from time to time.

One of the greatest privileges of dance music is that it gives us access to worlds beyond our own.

Most hobbies are relatively self-contained. Club culture, by contrast, can transport you into entirely different communities. One weekend you can find yourself at a tiny grassroots party run by a handful of passionate volunteers. The next, you're standing on a beach in a different country surrounded by people from across the world. Every scene develops its own traditions, values, sounds, and personalities. Even venues a few miles apart can feel like they're operating in different universes.

The fact that we get to experience these worlds at all is something I don't think we appreciate enough. We live in one of the greatest cities in the world for dance music, and with that comes a jaded feeling of having seen it all before, with even the most special of nights feeling humdrum.

But, when you're a tourist, you arrive without assumptions. You pay closer attention. You notice details that regulars stopped seeing years ago. You become curious. Why does this crowd react so strongly to a particular track? Why is everyone gathered in this room and not the other one? What is it about this DJ, venue, or community that inspires such loyalty?

There's a humility in being new somewhere and there's a joy in accepting that you aren't the expert, you aren't the authority. You're simply a guest, experiencing something that other people have spent years building. Not only do I think that's healthy, I actually think it's a joy to be able to experience clubs with a sense of wonder. In a culture increasingly shaped by personal brands and online identities, something is refreshing about stepping into a space where nobody knows who you are and none of that matters anyway.

Unfortunately, I'm pretty distinctive. In a rave world that feels like it's getting increasingly small, it's rare that I'll go to a venue in London without seeing someone I've seen before. It's not unpleasant: in the smoking area of Fold this weekend I saw someone I'd met at Fabric months before and they gave me a handful of Rowtree's Randoms, but there is the growing sense that my cartography project to map out London's nightlife is more than halfway done.

It's not true, of course. There are still plenty of places I haven't been. Next month I have tickets to see Max Styler at Gallery, A west London club that claims a "smart casual and stylish dress code." It's going to be unusual, and I'm looking forward to pushing myself out of my comfort zone a little bit.

If I were able to give people advice—and occasionally I do—it would be to actively seek out that feeling. Go to the night that isn't designed for you. Visit a venue you've never heard of. Travel to a city where you don't know the scene. Take a chance on an artist you're unfamiliar with. Accept that you'll occasionally feel awkward, uncertain, or out of your depth.

Those experiences rarely make for the easiest nights out, but they often make for the most memorable ones. The truth is that being a tourist isn't a sign that you don't belong. It's often evidence that you're still exploring. If every night out feels familiar, you're probably not exploring enough.

So, here's to the tourists. I'm taking a small break this week, handing the majority of the newsletter over to people who have been exploring in their own ways. Enjoy it, and be sure to respond to this email or get in touch on WhatsApp if you've got any fun explorations to confess.

I've been watching a lot of Elif sets on YouTube over the last couple of years, but after I saw her absolutely rock Fabric's second room during Joris Voorn's open-to-close at Fabric back in April I'd describe myself as something of a super fan. Maybe I can bend the rules, and we can get her to interview for In The Booth sometime.

Still, even I'm surprised at how much I've listened to this set from Playa Venao 2026 in the last two weeks. It's becoming a fairly constant companion to my mornings, keeping me company while I perform my daily ritual of answering work emails and desperately trying to hydrate as if to atone for the sins of my weekend.

Everyone in this video is having a great time, which is infectious, and the three-hour set moves through several distinct vibes. Chuck it on, zone out.

Anjunadeep needs little introduction. The progressive and melodic house record label from Above and Beyond and James Grant is entering its third decade after launching the careers of artists such as Lane 8, Tinlicker, and Ben Bohmer. For the sixth year, they have also hosted a festival on the Ionian beaches of Dhermi, Albania.

The tickets, lodging, and travel costs make this a premium festival choice, but the beautiful settings, collection of both classic and new artists, and small size (about 4,000 attendees) create an intimate musical beach vacation for the dedicated “anjunafamily.” There’s nothing underground or edgy about it and it never tries to pretend otherwise.

Most people I met had attended several of the previous iterations and were reconvening with friends who fly from all over the world to meet each other every year and dance on the beach and stages where you can watch the sunset (or rise) over the waves. Nonetheless, there were many solo travellers who felt comfortable and rewarded for trusting a week of their year in the friendly, welcoming community.

The culture is a concentration of what you find at other Anjunadeep events: feel good positive vibes, very little in the way of messy, aggressive partiers; fun outfits; a wide age range, but the majority in the mid-thirties giving it a bit more maturity; and yet a whimsical energy you might associate with a younger, more psychedelic festival crowd. At various points, I was given a penguin sticker, a carefully made custom Anjunadeep polaroid picture frame, flashing lights, and a glow-in-the-dark plastic penis. A friend of mine brought knitted Anjunadeep teddy bears to hide as gifts throughout the festival. It’s a vibe that could be cringe anywhere else but survives here as we all shed the outside world and choose, for a few days, to participate in this community.

My highlights included an absolutely classic afternoon set by Dusky on Gijpe beach; a bouncy, funky Catching Flies performance; Tourist providing some contrast with an atmospheric headline set that enveloped us at just the right time of the night; and a heavier, more driving show from 16BL that lifted everyone’s energy as the night got later. Judging by the group chat chatter, Nox Vahn’s set was a big hit as well, though I unfortunately had to miss it. During the day, the beach stage played chilled music as attendees slowly recovered, laying in the sun, under disco balls, and swimming in the perfect sapphire water.

The festival feels like attending a luxury party with old friends, even if you are meeting them for the first time. The longevity and community around Anjunadeep create a feeling of shared references, inside jokes, and understanding. 16BL is played, and a man holds up a prepared sign that reads “Deep In My Soul” which we all recognise and cheer. A Tinlicker classic comes on and everyone shoots enthusiastic looks to their friends. Your favourite Anjunadeep song will be played and you’ll share it with old friends or new, who love it just as much as you do. 

The most common complaint was that tickets for activities (beach and pool parties, yoga sessions, dinner events, etc.) could not be transferred between guests once the festival started. Given that there was an online system to transfer them prior to the festival, it’s not clear why this is not allowed and was a constant source of frustration in the various festival group chats. The staff were generally outstanding, helping sort out most other logistical issues. The small size of the festival meant that most stages were a perfect balance of mostly full, but never too crowded, the exception being Marsh which many complained was problematically crowded. Perhaps beach front passage between the Pavillion and Splendour stages should be gated for capacity during ‘headline’ performance times? The small size did also meant that festival-goers were constantly running into and meeting the artists, who were having just as much fun as anyone.

As Anjunadeep looks ahead to its third decade and develops its next generation of artists, this musical behemoth has created a festival that draws on all its strengths, and many of the people I met there said that it is their favourite festival of the year. Given the cost and the effort, it’s really one for the fans, but if that’s you, then you know where to find the Anjunafamily next year.

I’m starting to write this on my lunch break, and my brain is still feeling fuzzy from the weekend.

After eight years of raving, I’ve got pretty used to the routine. What’s never guaranteed, though, is how I’ll feel afterwards. You never really know what state you’re going to wake up in. The body stiffness is always there. The peacefulness isn’t. This Monday, I do feel at peace.

When that feeling does arrive, I try to hold onto it. Not by rewatching videos from the night before—I’ve never been much for that, beyond the occasional accidental black-screen recording with 30 seconds of audio—but by sitting out on my balcony when the London weather allows it. Coffee in one hand, ciggy in the other, staring at the trees outside my flat and letting my mind wander as I piece together everything I experienced over the weekend. I have a very busy inner world.

I had a long weekend. It started by attending one of my best friend’s birthday parties over lunch on Saturday with a big group of very loud Italians full of good vibes. Or at least I hope it came off that way to the people in the restaurant having to put up with us.

We’d been planning to attend the D Dan & Freddy K curated party at The Cause by Origins since they announced it, and we were warming up with good food and a few/ too many bottles of wine. We’re all big techno heads, and we were really looking forward to it.

We got there around 8PM, just in time to see Rene Wise closing the courtyard. As with any outdoor day party, I was already expecting lots of people to be chilling and chatting. So I made my way closer to the DJ booth to find the most committed dancers, people who usually respect the dancefloor and are properly locked in without any talking involved.

I met lots of familiar faces here and there and started to let go.

Nothing bad to say about his set besides that some people were a bit confused when he closed with acid. Some didn’t quite get it. I just thought that, for that time of day and the way he played through the last hour of his set, it kind of worked.

We were also in for the long haul. The party ran until 6am, and we were planning to head to Tech Couture at Fold afterwards for the closing hours, which would take us through until 11AM.

It was my first time attending a party at The Cause since they relocated from their first space in Tottenham Hale, where I used to go regularly. And I have lots of mixed feelings about it. The venue looks great, but I don’t think it quite hit the mark.

Jake and I already covered the fact that a good night cannot be guaranteed simply by a venue or a lineup. Lots of people online who are part of the scene keep talking about how "the vibes" are sometimes hard to find, particularly when big names are playing. They’re more likely to attract all kinds of people: newbies with no rave etiquette, returning ravers who would rather go to a day party than an all-nighter, as well as regulars to these sorts of events.

I think that was the main issue this past Saturday: too many people and a lot of mixed vibes. This Reddit thread has more comments on what really went down.

Plus, there were times during the evening when you had to queue for at least 20 minutes to get into each room. And forget about smoking. If you went out for a quick breather, you would have had to queue all over again. I ended up begging for a vape at one point as I was struggling.

We managed to squeeze into The Workshop to see D Dan’s solo set from 9pm until midnight, and the layout of the room reminded me a bit of Printworks, even if on a smaller scale. The long room gave me those jittery feelings all over again.

We also managed to find a group of friendly solo dancers around the right-hand side of the booth. This gave us a bit of trust in the night that was only just getting started.

But once we made our way to The Warehouse for Philippa Pacho, and then DJ Nobu, one of my all-time favourites, everything changed. And not for the better.

If you know me in real life, you’ll know I’m usually positive and very easygoing. I tend to go with the flow and let things unfold without being judgmental. Particularly on a night out, when everyone is there to release the previous week’s stress and be engulfed by the music and its magical healing powers.

But I have to admit I wasn’t really content with the room or the people surrounding me. First of all, it was more than packed. Filled to the brim with people, making it almost impossible to find a spot to dance without bumping into someone.

Second, I think there were only a couple of people near the front-left side who were really there to dance. The rest were chatting, and very loudly as well. Maybe they didn’t get the memo that they were supposed to dance rather than catch up. I’m not entirely sure.

I really enjoyed Philippa’s closing. She escalated the energy in the room exactly as you would expect before handing over to DJ Nobu.

I was also very pleased with Nobu’s set. He transported me into a loop during the first part of his set before moving into his regular high-intensity, "video game" style (as my friends and I jokingly describe it).

But even though he was really good, it will never top my experience of seeing him last July at Corsica Studios for Planet People. That is one set I’ll always remember.

Some friends of mine have even mentioned that he seems to have a special connection with that club, which perhaps allows him to express himself more freely.

Freddy K b2b D Dan was mind-boggling. D Dan was not holding back at all. His energy was palpable. But nevertheless, the moment I truly entered my flow was not at The Cause. It was at Fold when Chlär started playing.

I had been dying to see Chlär for ages, and I’m so glad I finally got the chance. We got to Fold a little before 7AM, and the symbiotic energy of Blasha & Allatt greeted us. They prepared the room for what was to come. A two-hour set that was vibrant all the way through. There was never a moment when he paused or slowed down. He just kept building. Track after track. Layer upon layer. Always more intricate than the last.

I didn’t think anybody could keep the energy levels that high afterwards, but Anne was such a breath of fresh air. I didn’t know her beforehand, and I was pleasantly surprised.

We also managed to stop by the Steam Room to see Mac Declos b2b Pablo Bozzi. They were playing a house set that isn’t the norm at this sort of party. But ultimately, I was just pleased the space wasn’t too packed or filled with people who weren’t into the music.

By the early hours, both rooms were half-filled with regulars as well as new faces. Overall, we all felt the music, and we all contributed to making sure the vibes were genuine and positive.

Maybe that's why I'm sitting here on a Monday afternoon, coffee in hand, feeling unusually calm. Not because every set was perfect or every room had the right energy. But because somewhere between the frustration of The Cause and the magic of Fold, I found what I was looking for.

A shorter write-up than usual this weekend because of my aforementioned "taking a week off," so you'll have to forgive me.

A quiet weekend ahead for me (I'm taking the weekend off to see friends), but Joe Goddard and Cloonee both feel like must-sees on Friday, and Surgeon at Fold is surprisingly tempting, too. My pick of the Saturday is probably KIN, a new event taking place at Arch 14. That's got nd_baumecker, Berghain's Panorama Bar resident who basically never plays in the city.

Soulwax and Nora En Pure are both compelling options for Sunday, too.

Friday

• NT's Loft: Joe Goddard Night Tales Loft
• Cloonee presents Hellbent The Cause
• EL ÚLTIMO SUZIO Colour Factory

Saturday

• Outro Festival 2026 (Day Party) The Cause
• TECHNO WOMXN - OPEN DECKS, SOCIAL & SPECIAL GUEST SETS M.O.T
• K I N 0 1 // nd_baumecker // Bengoa // Zeynep Erbay Arch 14
• Surgeon at FOLD Fold

Sunday

• Soulwax Royal Festival Hall
• Nora En Pure - PURIFIED OPEN AIR - Summer Solstice The Cause

What else?

• Thursday has DJ ADHD, Madjestic Kasual and more at The Glove That Fits.
• Next Monday, broadly acknowledged to be a rest day, actually has Solstice Solidarity Synthesis. This is an ambient/experimental / electronic event series created to celebrate the Solstices while giving back to a different cause each time. This time the good cause is Women for Refugee Women. I've wanted to see Drum & Lace play for a while.

• London club The Cause is launching a new festival focused on independent radio, called The Cause FM: New Frequency. It'll take place on July 25.
• This HAAi remix of Nina Simone's That's All I Ask is brilliant. Give it a listen.
• Carl Cox is getting an OBE. I'm not sure if he's the first techno DJ to be given an OBE, but it's a cool way to close the loop, as Cox was given a £1,000 grant by The Prince's Trust back in the day which he used to start his DJing career when he was a youthful 24.