RA marks its video debut and the start of a brand new series with a trip to arguably the most creative city in electronic music right now. Real Scenes is a series of films in which we explore the musical, cultural and creative climate within electronic music's key destinations. We'll look at the role singular figureheads—producers, DJs, promoters—play in making their city's music scene a point of world-wide interest. We'll also look at places, spaces and inspirations, seeking out the essence of what gives these hyper-local scenes a truly global resonance. The eyes of the world have turned to the UK in recent years and have found some of the most exciting, genre-defying young artists to emerge from electronic music. But while London's scene can be fractious and hard to pin down, there seems to be something in the air in Bristol that unites its participants. Whether they're creating dubstep, house, techno or something else entirely, the cross-pollination in Bristol is unique. In RA's first official entry into video, we journey to Bristol to explore how the city has flourished in recent years, discovering why this small metropolis is one of the most influential electronic music outposts in the world today.
You can't talk about electronic music without mentioning Detroit. The city's DJs and producers birthed the genre we now call techno. Detroit, however, has always had a creative streak, due in large part to the boom and subsequent bust of the auto industry. Quite simply, Detroit is a city of extremes, and its music reflects that. Detroit's importance in the global electronic music scenes is often referred to in the past tense. With the recent emergence of Kyle Hall and other young Detroit producers, however, it's clear that a spark remains. When we visited, we found a number of artists with their eyes (and ears) firmly set towards the future. After our time there, it's clear that Detroit will endure and innovate for years to come.
Berlin has always been a special place, and especially so when it comes to electronic music. When the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, techno became the underground soundtrack to the reunion between East and West. In recent years, it's become an international destination for ravers—a cheap place to party with clubs that are renowned throughout the world. Techno has become a business in the meantime. Yet Berlin still maintains a credibility that other cities lack. To understand why, RA and Bench have teamed up for another edition of Real Scenes. We went to the German capital eager to find out about its unique history and the reasons behind its continued relevance.
In the return of our documentary series, we visit the French capital. A few years ago The New York Times and Le Monde were declaring the death of clubbing in Paris. It was a dark moment for a city that has at times stood alongside London, New York and Berlin as one of the capitals of electronic music. With names like Laurent Garnier, Daft Punk and Justice leading the way, Paris has seemingly always been a flashpoint for a unique spin on house and techno. At the exact moment those articles were being written, however, things were beginning to change. Promoters like Sundae and Concrete experimented with throwing their parties on Sunday, taking advantage of a spot in the city where they don't have to worry about noise restrictions. Die Nacht, meanwhile, has devoted itself to finding unlikely spaces for their events. What's more, partygoers are now finally traveling to the suburbs, beyond the Paris Périphérique—the road that encircles the city—in search of a good time. It's a shift in attitude that has made Paris fun again, and it's why we went there earlier this year to film the latest edition in our Real Scenes series.
South Africans are the biggest consumers of house music in the world, and Johannesburg is the beating heart of their scene. If you're looking for proof, there is no need to visit a nightclub. In turning on a television, listening to the radio or walking down the street, it's clear that a 4/4 pulse is the metronome of everyday life. The city's preferred sound—vocal-led, percussive, melodic—is largely at odds with what's popular in other international markets; this coupled with cripplingly slow internet speeds goes someway to explaining SA's absence from the global house music conversation. But although the scene's stars hold ambitions that extend well beyond the country's borders, the reality is that they're thriving on home turf. Johannesburg has written—and continues to write—its own narrative. It has tales of hardship. The fight to free itself from the brutality of apartheid, and the role music played in that struggle. In a city still rife with poverty, house music can offer a way out. For our latest Real Scenes film we journeyed to Johannesburg and its outer lying townships, meeting the DJs, producers, promoters and record labels who are central to its story.
Not too long ago it looked like New York's glory days as a center for dance music had passed. As the birthplace of disco and hip-hop and the home of legendary nightclubs like the Paradise Garage, Limelight and Twilo, the city has long been part of the cultural fabric. But as the notoriously grimy city of the late 20th century transformed into the sleek and hyper-gentrified metropolis of today, its thriving underground lost its foothold. New Yorkers have long flourished under adversity, though, and its now bustling party scene is a testament to this. Promoters, producers and DJs jumped the East River to establish Brooklyn as a new creative center. Lofts and warehouses filled the void left by Manhattan's shuttered nightclubs, and a new generation of producers is infusing the city's musical legacy with the sounds of the international scene. But the luxury condos rising along the waterfront are a constant reminder that the city's relentless evolution could easily stamp things out again. We burrowed deep for our latest Real Scenes film, discovering how some of the key players in this vast scene are hustling hard to make it last.
To most of us, a police ban on dancing sounds like the stuff of dystopian nightmares, but in the latest episode of our flagship documentary series we see how this is a reality for people in the Japanese capital. "Humans eat, reproduce and sleep," says Dommune's Naohiro Ukawa. "And they dance." But in Japanese clubs these days, this basic form of expression is illegal. The Entertainment Business Control Law, or Fueiho as it is commonly known, was passed decades ago to control prostitution in the Japanese entertainment industry. It states that venues under 66 meters squared cannot obtain a license to allow dancing. For years authorities turned a blind eye to the club scene in Tokyo, which became known as one of the world's best places to hear dance music. But over the last couple of years, the police have begun to stringently clamp down. There are many theories as to why this happened (most people see the restrictions in Osaka, which began in 2010, as a starting place for the enforcement of Fueiho) but the result is that a once vibrant scene is now being slowly strangled. For our latest Real Scenes films, we journey to the Japanese capital to meet the DJs, promoters, campaigners and producers who have been affected by the Fueiho. We hear how a rapidly aging population and the negative public perception of nightclubs have meant that fighting for reform is just part of the problem. Despite these extraordinary challenges, Tokyo is home to a passionate, dedicated dance music community, who have responded with campaign groups like Let's DANCE, and the establishment of small, underground music spaces. There is a collective understanding that if they want to affect change it will have to come from within.
Life in the Mexican capital throws up many obstacles, but as we found out in the return of our long-running film series, a small number of dedicated people are trying to build an electronic music scene in one of the world's most chaotic cities. Mexico City is one of the largest and most vibrant metropolises in the world, but its electronic music scene has yet to truly flourish. It's a city where vast inequality, crime and widespread corruption are everyday realities, and where nightclubs are largely reserved for the moneyed elites. For those who put music first, there are many obstacles—a lack of venues, a limited audience, very little financial gain. Whether you're putting on parties, releasing music or hustling for gigs, making ends meet is a constant struggle. But the issue also runs deeper. Malinchismo, which means a preference for the foreign over the local, is a term you hear a lot in Mexico City, and it spills over into all aspects of life. In dance music, Mexican fans and DJs will avidly follow artists from Berlin or London but pay little attention to national talent. The domestic scene therefore suffers, unable to develop an identity of its own. In our latest Real Scenes film we travelled to the colourful, chaotic capital to meet the people who are trying to make dance music work in Mexico City. We found a core community as dedicated, talented and passionate as any in the world.
RA goes beyond the sunshine and the sprawl to explore LA's underground scene. LA's reputation precedes itself. Around the world, Hollywood looms large, presenting America's second-biggest city as a land of palm trees, red carpets and celebrities. This couldn't be further from the truth. As Mahssa Taghinia of Mount Analog puts it, LA is a "geographical memoir, there's no truth or falsehood really, everybody's idea of LA is very personal." There is an escapist bent to the place, and many artists find a small patch of paradise to hole up and work on music. Of course, that lifestyle and the so-called "Autopia," criss-crossed by freeways inhabited by single-driver cars, can be incredibly isolating. People cling to the communities fostered by record stores, radio stations and raves. The endless expanse of the city provides warehouse space for promoters pushed underground by a 2 AM curfew. Since the early '90s, artists from around the world have flown to LA every weekend to play back-alley spots whose locations remain unannounced until a few hours before the party starts. The word-of-mouth aspect of these events reflects a large trend in the city: so much of what LA has to offer happens behind closed doors. Our latest Real Scenes film tries to take you there, documenting a scene as thriving as it is elusive.
Thriving? Or just surviving? RA's flagship documentary series explores the complicated story behind the world's biggest dance music scene. London is home to the world's biggest and most diverse dance music scene. Each weekend, it vibrates to the sound of every imaginable style of club music. It's a scene shaped by immigration and the hard knocks of city life, both of which fuelled the incredible feats of creativity that led to jungle, garage, grime, dubstep and UK funky. London is rightly known as a capital of sonic innovation. London may be one of dance music's most important cities, but it's also one of its most troubled. It has reached a defining moment for nightlife culture. From club closures, to widespread police pressure on venues, to the looming threats of gentrification and Brexit, dance music in London has often felt under siege. In Real Scenes: London, we meet the artists, promoters and venue owners who have confronted these challenges head on. It's never been easy here, but an undercurrent of radio, DIY venues, new music and emerging talent still finds a way to survive and thrive—at least for now.
In Australia's most populous city, we find the party scene quietly flourishing beyond the reach of so-called "lockout laws." Since 2014, Sydney's clubs have been fighting for survival. Draconian licensing regulations, known broadly as the lockout laws, have closed a number of key venues and left others on life support. And yet, a thriving underground exists outside the city centre. Heaving parties happen in warehouses, parks, or anywhere people can get away with setting up a soundsystem. A deep sense of passion, commitment and creativity is shaping a hopeful new era for electronic music in Sydney. In the first of two Real Scenes films in Australia, we follow the political fight to save Sydney's nightlife. We check in with the DIY promoters and artists whose never-say-die spirit continues to make Sydney a world-class place to dance, even if it's in the shadows.
A distinct scene is flourishing in a city that no longer considers itself inferior to established dance music hubs like London and Berlin. Melbourne has long been heralded as the cultural capital of Australia, a claim that rings especially true when it comes to electronic music. These days, the city boasts a deep pool of artists, dozens of hardworking promoters and (generally) supportive local authorities. In recent years, Local DJs, producers and record labels have forged a new musical identity that's comfortable in its own skin. "I remember a time, not that long ago, where we used to fantasise about the scenes in Berlin and London," says Mic Newman, AKA Fantastic Man. "It's been great to see the whole situation flip to where it's almost like the supply can't keep up with the demand." But the city faces some challenges, too. A decade-long freeze on new late-night liquor licenses in inner Melbourne has meant the loss of key music venues hasn't been offset with new openings, putting pressure on the club scene to do more with less. And Australia's isolation from the rest of the world means that some artists still feel compelled to move to Europe to further their careers. Following our recent Sydney documentary, RA's latest Real Scenes film takes stock of a city whose dance music community has earned global attention.