Unravelling the curious case of @karangoesdancing

A story doesn’t have to appeal to the heart. It can also appeal to the spine.

And with two magic words…ay, no pressure.

That’s a handsome guy, extra hand notwithstanding. I clicked this on Sunday, 27th Feb 2022 on my way to Wadi Abadilah, Fujairah, with a vibrant and diverse crew.

Time flies when you’re having fun, and it’s been a whirlwind week.

We’re into another weekend as I type this on Saturday, 5th March 2022, and I must get these words out now before life’s duties and responsibilities get in the way of my writing.

I’ve been itching to blog for months, but never seemed to find the words, or make the time.

But as any great writer knows, you must show up, even if your muse doesn’t.

The process must be trusted. The inspiration will flow. The words will come. The story will be told.

I’m in a good place in my life. I’m happy. But not content. There is much work to be done before I will be.

And once I get to that stage, I will set more goals, and work relentlessly towards achieving them.

If only I had this drive and determination a couple of years ago, I wonder where I’d be today.

That said; I don’t dwell on the past. I only learn from it. A wise man reviews history, analyses what they could have improved, and armed with that knowledge, boldly creates their future.

Which is why, in this two-part blog, I want to tell the story of the most creatively fulfilling year of my life (2018 – 2019) as an electronic dance music vlogger, and t-shirt blogger.

With the exception of a Twitter I barely use; I don’t have social media anymore. Although I use LinkedIn, I’m not lumping it along with the big three – Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter – because it is a different and necessary beast.

(I also loathe how it has aped Facebook’s UI, but that’s beside the point.)

Depending on who you ask, not being on social media may either be considered a cardinal sin or completely normal. What is worth examining, however, is your relationship with, and what you gain from it.

What follows is the unabridged tale of when I was building something greater than myself.

For the 1.5-minute-long version, watch my vlog.

If you like what you see, I would appreciate it if you subscribed to my channel.

Please let me know if you do so I can thank you.

I’ve only just started exploring YouTube and am excited by the myriad of creative opportunities it offers.

Life, in technicolour squares.

Having the time of my life at Mr. Scruff’s Boiler Room. Shot August 2018, Dekmantel Festival, Amsterdamse Bos, Amsterdam.

I can truthfully say I was using social media (esp. Instagram) as a means to an end – to gain employment. Which is not wrong. My heart was in the right place, but I lacked focus.

With the wisdom of hindsight, I can restart my second digital project (@teesonthestreets) this year, so long as I stay true to the core idea.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s get into the story of my first digital identity @karangoesdancing…

Let’s go dancing. I wanna go dancing with you, all night dancing.

My end goal was to secure a job covering underground electronic dance music across Europe. Either as a journalist, presenter, vlogger, or DJ. Although I already held a day job as an advertising copywriter, I had become disillusioned with the gig 3 years in. The reasons for my disillusionment? Several, but chief amongst them was that I didn’t see the point to my work, because I felt I wasn’t contributing anything of value to the world.

To reach my goal, I decided to hone my creative and social media skills through @karangoesdancing, where I would post Stories involving a mix of vlogs, photos, and blogs every day. All I did was change my existing handle (where I had some 300 followers) and start sharing content that was dance-music-focused.

Post with purpose, essentially.

I started experimenting with vlogs on Instagram in June 2018, making them for myself and noticed that people enjoyed watching. Note; I wasn’t strictly talking about music back then.

I merely went about my day, documented it, and had fun doing so.

After losing my job in advertising (mostly due to managerial changes, in part because my love for it had waned, and it showed) in September 2018, I decided to – with unconditional support from my parents – put all my eggs into the music vlogging basket.

My folks gave me a year to do as I deemed fit (known as a gap year in universities) and I was intrigued to see where this path would take me…

And this path certainly took me places! Some highlights:

1. Being asked to handle on-site social media creation for a boutique Burning Man-esque music festival called Magnetic Fields, held in a heritage 17th-century palace in Jaipur, India.

This photo is from 2017, my first time in these hallowed halls. 2018 – my second time at the festival – was the year I handled social media for them.
Magnetic Fields was my first proper music festival and it was there, under the stars – as I listened to Four Tet, spellbound – I decided to devote my life to music in some way.

2. I was invited to a panel discussion – organized by my favourite club, Analog Room – about preventing harassment on dancefloors. Related: read my blog which sparked this conversation across India, Europe, and the Middle East, which led to the invite.

Flanked by Pooja to my right, one of my best friends, and a measured techno artist. Shot January 2019, The Flip Side, Dubai.

3. Meeting, and befriending my favourite artists, some of whom shared nuggets of wisdom on leading a creative life. I also crossed paths with veterans from the music industry, who guided me on how to succeed in the business.

Hanging with Anastasia after her gig. She closed her set with a cheeky, and classic techno track. Shot October 2018, Analog Room, Dubai.

4. Winning 4 passes to Glitch Festival, and reuniting with rave-happy friends in gorgeous Malta, who came to party, no questions asked, in the summer of 2019.

Aleks, thank you for coming down to dance with me to Carl Cox. You’re a legend. And a half. I trust you’re killing the wildlife…photography, but of course! Fingers crossed your shots make it to National Geographic one day.
(PS – Yes, I know, that’s Peggy Gou on stage. This is our best photo from the festival.)
Shot August 2019, Glitch Festival, Malta.

Amy and Martina, I trust you guys are well and have accepted your new lives as overnight Boiler Room sensations. I still crack up about our reunion at 25:40 minutes into that solid set. Shot August 2019, Glitch Festival, Malta.

5. And last, but not least, connecting with people across the world through music.

I look back in gratitude at these magnificent experiences. And cannot believe what an extraordinary year that was.

…but I’d like to direct your attention as to why I started doing this in the first place.

I wanted to make a career of this, remember? And when you commodify yourself with an identity like @karangoesdancing, there comes a pressure to keep up appearances, especially on social media, where everybody seems to be having the time of their lives.

So, I chose to share,

but selectively.

Cherry-pick and publish highlights.

Things appeared rosy and hunky-dory on camera. But, for better or worse, (better, in my opinion) life is not a party.

There are highs, and lows.

That’s just the way life goes.

Whilst things seemed great digitally,

my physical life was in tatters.

My parents weren’t happy with my still-fledgling career choice. Besides, I wasn’t making any money doing this.

To remedy that, I started freelance writing. I was excellent at my job, so made enough to get by, but working freelance requires extreme dedication, and self-discipline. None of which I had at that time; I’ll admit. My food and living expenses (not to mention credit card bills) were also generously paid for by my loving parents.

I was doing what I loved but wasn’t working to a game plan. Whilst I had connected with key players in the music industry, I wasn’t sure how to leverage these connections into landing a job. And when I wasn’t creating content; I chose to party instead of work.

Common sense dictates you must have a mentor when you journey into the unknown. Especially in a field as hyper-competitive as music.

But what happens when you embark on

a journey by yourself, wanting nothing but to connect with and make people happy due to the naivete in your heart, yet also wanting to make it lucrative – thus going against your fundamental principles for doing something creative

– at the same time?

You overthink. And crash. And burn. Hard. And when you’re a self-professed hedonist, you turn to your vices. Which, for me, was unbridled pleasure.

Sexual gratification. I’d lose myself in lust for days at a time, but like a hamster running aimlessly on the hedonic treadmill, I’d return to my baseline level of happiness after reaching massive heights of ecstasy.

What’s worse is that I would repeat my mistakes, and like good old Pavlov’s dog himself, go through the same thought-stimulus-pleasure loop.

I don’t want to elucidate on this dark period, but of two things I am sure:

1. There is immense work to be done in the shadows, and on my Shadow, before I get to where I want to be. What’s encouraging is that the work began some time ago, and I’ve grown since.

2. Everything in nature is cyclical, and things are bound to improve. So long as we are conscious of our limitations, and make pushing past our comfort zones part of our daily routines.


Back to the story, then. Nobody knew what mental tug-of-war I was going through, yet I blissfully continued sharing Story after Story every day, creating ridiculous hype leading up to Glitch Festival – so when I was awarded 4 free festival passes, I was not surprised.

I’d organically grown my page from a paltry 300 something followers to a 1500-strong community in the span of 11 months.

The math worked out to about 110 new followers every month, which was decent, considering I wasn’t sharing any sponsored posts. I merely interacted with the global dance music community. I also viewed each person I connected with as a, well, person, and not a number.

Although I must say: this number included several bots. I’d be quick on the uptake to block them, but if memory serves me correctly, they would still count as part of your follower count. I do not remember.

People were following my journey every step of the way (the analytics didn’t lie) and were keen to hear my thoughts about this sonic festival on the sun-drenched shores of idyllic Malta.

And I was just as eager to tell that story, but couldn’t do so in good conscience upon my return from that significant trip because of a decision I had to make…

To do what is right, or what is difficult?

That is the question.

My year was up. I had to answer my parents – would I continue the music-vlogging shenanigans (and continue freelance writing on the side), or would I join the family acoustics business?

Frankly, I didn’t have to think long. I was done writing for brands. It was dull work, and I was not a self-starter. It was the same job I’d come to hate over the past few years, except this time I was on my own. No team to help.

I had to be the judge of my own work; which I’ll admit, has held me in good stead…

The music-vlogging was fun whilst it lasted. But I knew the party had to end at some point. Over the course of my vlogging efforts, I was offered one job in the music industry in Dubai, but I didn’t follow up when I should have.

So, I bit the bullet and joined my family business in September 2019. I decided to go off the grid by:

  1. Deactivating both my Instagram accounts @karangoesdancing and @teesonthestreets;
  2. Deactivating my Facebook;
  3. Turning off WhatsApp notifications, and archiving a bunch of chats so I wouldn’t be disturbed;
  4. And not responding to anyone, no matter what remaining platform (such as SoundCloud) they reached out to me from.

Many thought I had died, or worse. It was a selfish decision but had to be done. I had to give my all in this new field. On occasion, I felt the brunt of leaving people (including friends) in the dark, and it stung. But, I had to focus on the bigger picture. My goal was crystal-clear: I had to rise to the occasion of shouldering my family business.


I’d be lying if I said it was smooth sailing post my return from Malta. But, after a year and a half of impostor phenomenon, mistakes, stress, (coupled with the tempestuous time that was 2020 – hola, COVID-19!) I have somewhat found my feet in the esoteric (who am I kidding, this stuff isn’t as difficult as I thought it would be) field of acoustics.

Whilst I do not enjoy every part of my job, I feel satisfied from seeing a project through to completion. I also enjoy managing my team. But, this is no ordinary job, nor can I treat it as such.

This is my business. And I must treat it with the care and attention it deserves.

What I lack in technical know-how, I make up for with my interpersonal skills and resilient attitude: I get the job done, no matter what.

I’ve also belatedly realized that a career in advertising has given me three invaluable skills:

1. For one; I can communicate. Competently. Which already puts me head and shoulders above the masses in the construction industry. Where it seems like people cannot write a coherent email, or give a clear order to save their life…

2. Two; it has sharpened my thinking – the best creative is rooted in logic and insight. Which will no doubt play a vital role as I progress in my career, and deal with people from varying walks of life, and contrasting worldviews.

3. And three; I can sell. Effectively. I’ve recently begun taking an interest in our company’s social media page, and know that growing a business’ digital presence boils down to staying human, no matter how large you become, and utilizing the usual social media strategies – and some unusual ones, too…


I sometimes miss the halcyon days of vlogging about electronic music as @karangoesdancing. But, they’re just that – a time rooted in nostalgia.

It is okay to reminisce on occasion. Anything beyond does more harm than good.

I might return to that side of myself in the future but on a different platform.

Time will tell.

Electronic music is incredibly dear to me and has played a telling role during several moments in my life, shaping me into the man I am today.

Looking ahead, the story of my other digital side-project (@teesonthestreets) remains to be told, which deserves its own blog. Which I will publish. Soon.


If you’ve read this far, thank you. I appreciate it when people read my words, or listen to my story. If you got something from this blog, please get in touch, or leave a comment. I’d love to hear from you.

I missed this. So much. Blogging, that is. I would love it if you subscribed to my blog, but I want to make it worth your while. I want you to gain value from my words. I want you to feel something each time you receive my thoughts in your inbox. I want to write words that resonate with you.

That is what I’ve always wanted. Which is why I won’t ask you to subscribe again. At least not until I’ve built a habit of publishing on a regular basis, and consistently producing work that I am happy with.

The last time I published was in December 2018. The only reason for not publishing since then is because I was scared to write. But now, as I rediscover my creative capabilities, I know that writing is not as tricky as I made it out to be in my head.

After all, I was paid to write. And when people pay you to do something, you must be doing something right, even – and especially – if you don’t recognise it yourself.

No matter what creative activity I pursue, writing will be my first love. I find it deeply cathartic, and view it as a medium where I can allow myself to be vulnerable.

You cannot hide with words.

And if you know me even slightly, you would know I’m a guy who doesn’t mince his words, and wears his heart on his sleeve.

Which makes perfect sense. Because when I write, I write from the heart and look to connect not only with myself but you, dear reader.

I look forward to sharing more stories with you. Catch you in the next blog.

Finding My Sense of Self On The Dancefloor

Boiler Room. Berlin.

Those three words are probably my favourite phrase in club culture.

For the uninitiated, Boiler Room is a party that started in 2010 which broadcasts underground, mostly electronic musicians to the world.

It began when English DJ, radio host and presenter Thristian Richards got home from a night out.

He wasn’t ready to hit the sack just yet.

Here’s what happened. He had some rum, weed, and a pair of decks.

So he called his friend Blaise over, invited a few of their close friends and threw a party in an abandoned warehouse in London – in the boiler room.

Except.

They live-streamed it using Ustream, a company now owned by IBM.

Boiler Room came into existence as an intimate gathering of music and fun.

But it’s exploded over the past 8 years, capturing the imaginations and envy of millions of people around the world.

Why envy?

Because everybody wants their 15-minutes of fame. Remember Andy Warhol’s declaration?

“In the future, everyone will be worldfamous for 15 minutes.”

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27th January 2017. My first Boiler Room. Their first Middle Eastern showcase. I partied with my best friend in a parking lot, grooving to Analog Room homeboy Nasrawi’s funky tunes, Nosaj Thing and Ryan Hemsworth.

He said that 51 years ago, in 1968. We’re almost in 2019.

The future is now. And it scares me.

We’re facing a host of major problems. I’ll name four: political unrest, poverty, lack of education and war.

Others, such as climate change, deforestation and pollution threaten our survival as a species on planet Earth as we know it.

Then, there’s one nagging problem that shouldn’t exist in the first place.

Misogyny.

It’s everywhere. Sometimes, hiding in plain sight. It’s also a topic I can write about in detail in another blog.

For now, back to the Boiler Room. Where I saw something that shook me to my core.

Boiler Room is the epitome of cool. You could be dancing next to superstar DJ Carl Cox in a private villa in Ibiza, or sweating it out in an airplane-hangar in a forest outside Amsterdam.

Incidentally, I make an appearance in that second Boiler Room. If you love techno as much as me, then I highly recommend you watch the entire set.

Or, if you’d like to see an overexcited dude that refuses to grow up, wearing a pineapple-covered shirt and unabashedly supporting his favourite DJ, click here.

I insist you watch that 45-second clip, it’s the last minute of the same set.

Did you spot me? I’m in the bottom-left, shaking my head in disbelief. Wondering how I found myself there, raving to Charles Duff’s alias Matrixxman’s signature spellbinding acid.

Towards the end, Boiler Room host Michail Stangl aka Opium Hum proclaims that in 2025, this will be the set that inspires young producers to pick up electronic music production.

That’s precisely when I can’t contain my excitement any longer and cheer in delight.

When I look at myself, sweaty and smiling broadly on the dance floor, I see a person who’s found their place in the world.

Strange statement, you would think. But then, my first true nightclub experience was in Lancaster, a place that was instrumental in shaping me into the person I’ve become today.

Since then I’ve been on dancefloors in Dubai, New Delhi, Mumbai, Goa, New York, London, Manchester, Paris, Prague, Budapest, Amsterdam, Berlin, Yerevan, Plovdiv, Bucharest and more.

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4th August 2018. Day 2 of Dekmantel Festival. RBMA graduate Palms Trax (Jay Donaldson) delivered a feel-good set that capped off a wonderful day of music and new friends. How I wish I could go back to the time spent dancing on tables…

Dancefloors are strangely beautiful places.

They’re strange because you may see a person every weekend on the same spot for months, yet never speak.

If you do, it’s the customary “Hey! How’s it going?” before you can’t hear each other, and settle for speaking at the end of the night. Which usually doesn’t happen.

On the other hand, they’re beautiful because you might experience a life-changing revelation, meet your significant other or become life-long friends with someone that affects your worldview for the better.

Then again, if you’re a woman, there are some dancefloors you wish you’d never stepped foot on.

To show you what I mean, I’d like you to watch another Boiler Room clip. This one’s from Berlin, a city I will endeavour to move to.

Now while this does not contain explicit graphic content – it was painful for me to watch.

This is the clip in question.

Did you watch it? Please do. What I’m about to say won’t make sense if you don’t watch what happened.

Now. You would have noticed the girl in purple to the right of your screen, losing herself to the music.

And who should be behind her? A guy. Slyly placing an unwelcome hand on her hip.

She tells him to back off. He laughs mischievously, almost arrogantly. If you continue to watch for the next two minutes, you’ll notice he makes another unsolicited move, invading her personal space and trying to lay claim to her body.

As the beat slows down and shifts to a repetitive, somewhat sinister vocal sample, you can see the carnal thirst in his eyes. He leers at her like a piece of meat, breathing uncomfortably on the nape of her neck.

I can only imagine what’s going on in this predator’s head. And I fear what might have happened if they were on a deserted street at night, minus the safety that numbers can offer.

And this is only what was caught on camera.

Who knows what else occurred that night? Were there any other women tormented by a man that couldn’t keep his hands to himself?

I haven’t directed you to minute ’55 when the perpetrator first appears on the scene.

The girl in the purple dress engages him – as I would expect her to – she seems nice, dancing happily and having the time of her life.

But as you’ll continue to watch, the next few minutes paint a vile but true picture of club culture. An ugly picture that we often relegate to the shadows.

Sexual harassment and misogyny is pervasive and scary. It breeds in the dark, preying on all women; regardless of race, skin tone, body type and sexual orientation.

It can come from 6-foot tall gym rats or your average Joe.

And if we don’t solve this global problem, one night at a time, it will continue to scar women – some, who I know have been scarred for life.

I’ve spent countless nights on dancefloors. Not one of them has been uneventful.

Whether listening to a set that left me speechless, getting carried away with vices and partying for days on end – I wouldn’t change a thing.

That’s because, and I say this again: they’ve made me who I am.

Here are a few aspects of my life that have improved because of going to clubs:

  1. Time management whether at a festival or club, tough choices have to be made. Do you spend an hour dancing to DVS1’s dark, twisted techno or Dixon’s uplifting deep house?
  2. Leadership abilities – I’ve handled a ragtag bunch of characters on many a night out. This stuff is not a drill. As with any job, experience is the best teacher.
  3. Discipline – I don’t drink in clubs anymore. When I used to, I had to decide: do I drink one more G&T now and risk a hangover tomorrow? Similarly, I’ve now learnt when to cut my losses on a bad night and leave, rather than stay and hope it improves.
  4. Enjoying the moment – in a world full of notifications, being mindful of the present moment has often served me to great effect.
  5. Social skills – honing the art of conversation; reading body language; being kind and empathetic, and understanding personal space are just four things that come to mind.

However, I was taught the most important lesson this past summer in Bucharest.

This night took place on my 25th birthday, irrevocably affecting and consequently changing me. It gave me a mission. One I want to dedicate my life towards.

You can read about it in my next post, which will be a gonzo style account involving a Scottish couple and how we danced until the sun rose. Keep your eyes peeled.

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3rd August 2018. Day 1 of Dekmantel Festival. Life-lessons from the best: Matrixxman (Charles Duff) has been a massive inspiration. Hardworking, funny, humble and bold, every creative should take a leaf out of this brilliant dude’s book.

Counting the days until Dekmantel Festival

“I’m afraid it’s not looking good, Aziz.” said the good doctor, with a troubled look on his face.

“Wha-what do you mean, doc?” came the nervous reply.

“You haven’t got long.”

An awkward pause followed. The tension was palpable.

“How long do I have?” whimpered Aziz.

“10.” he said, with an air of finality.

“Ten? Ten what?! Years? Months? Weeks?” pleaded Aziz.

“10.”

“9…8…7…6…5…”

Have you heard this joke? I can’t seem to recall when or where I first did.

We know what’s coming for Aziz. And yet, as we hear the doctor counting down the seconds, we sense a nervous excitement in the air.

Hang on. That’s just me finding excitement in Aziz’s plight. Not you.

I tend to get overly excited about things.

For the past 7 months, I’ve been doing a daily countdown of my own. And there’s nothing macabre about what I’m looking forward to.

I’m ecstatic to say that in 2 weeks, I will be attending Dekmantel, my first international music festival!

I fell in love with music festivals last year, when I attended my first major one called Magnetic Fields. I will write about that experience another time. For now, read on to find out why I’m buzzing about Dekmantel!

Dekmantel-Soundsystem-Pressphoto-1-by-Sophie-van-der-Perre

Meet Casper Tielrooij and Thomas Martojo.

Let me take you back to the basics and give you a background of the Dekmantel brand. Casper and Thomas were childhood friends who grew up in The Hague, The Netherlands’ third largest city. They had a burning passion for electronic music and took the train to Amsterdam every other weekend to explore the capital’s booming techno scene.

Over time, they started hosting parties, inviting close friends to spin tunes. What started out as intimate gigs in small clubs under the ‘Dekmantel’ name, became bigger as word began to spread.

Realising it wouldn’t be sustainable to stick to their preferred nightclubs, Thomas and Casper met the demands of an expanding crowd by moving to larger venues.

They launched their eponymous record label soon after, which turned out to be a winning move. Unsurprisingly, the Dudes from Den Haag had developed a keen ear and distinctive taste for dance music.

Following this, the next natural step in Dekmantel’s steady success story was to create their own festival – which they launched in the summer of 2013.

The first edition of Dekmantel Festival was held in the lush and scenic Amsterdamse Bos (Amsterdam Forest).

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The Selectors Stage. I’m particularly excited to watch Lena Willikens perform. Her sets are equally trippy as they are dancey. Shot by Duncan Jacob.

Ever since then, this annual event – a spectacular showcase of the who’s who of electronic music – has called this magical setting its home. Incidentally, the Amsterdamse Bos is three times the size of New York’s Central Park, and the largest city park in Europe.

Complementing this picturesque location is Thomas and Casper’s belief in giving rising stars the chance to shine alongside well-established names. To put things in perspective, typical festival promoter logic is to book the biggest names to sell tickets.

But these guys? They would never do that. It goes against their ethos: which is to share good music, period.

They’ve gone against the grain, repeatedly exceeded expectations, and mastered the delicate balancing act of growing without losing their sense of identity.

Another fact I’m pleased to share is that Dekmantel Festival is capped at 10,000 attendees. Which might seem daunting, but this number represents a medium-sized festival. Enforcing this rule year in, year out ensures that the vibe is intimate yet incredible.

Controlled chaos, if you will.

As friends who went from ravers, to promoters, to record label owners, to festival founders, to selectors (they DJ as Dekmantel Soundsystem), the duo understand the elemental aspects of club and dance culture.

Pitchfork have dubbed it “the festival that might ruin other festivals”. Better still, others have declared it “your favorite DJ’s favorite music festival”.

ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, I AM IN FOR A TREAT.

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Techno titan Jeff Mills conducting the Main Stage with élan. Shot by Bart Heemskerk.

This year’s edition will be held from 1 – 5 August. The first two days offer a curious medley of live electronic and jazz acts, with the remaining three (3 – 5 August) presenting an enviable lineup of dance music’s finest DJs. I’m attending the latter half of the programme.

It’s funny to think that at one point, I felt much like poor Aziz; anxious and stressed. And that’s because I didn’t know if I would be going.

To cut a long story short, I faced several hiccups when applying for my Schengen visa. When I finally received it,

I was ready to rediscover one of my favorite words in the English language: adventure.

ON A RELATED NOTE, I MADE AN INSTAGRAM STORY THE OTHER DAY, WHERE I TALKED ABOUT HOW EXCITED I AM FOR DEKMANTEL FESTIVAL TO KICK OFF. IF YOU TUNED IN, YOU’LL KNOW THAT ‘EXCITED’ IS UNDERSTATING IT.

I rarely use the ‘Stories’ feature. Mostly because I feel like I don’t have anything valuable to add to the colossal social media space.

Which is absurd, if you think about it. ‘Valuable’, especially when viewed through a social media lens, is relative.

Different strokes for different folks, eh?

Here’s an example. Check out this photo.

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Dekmantel’s Main Stage. I recently discovered my new favorite DJ and producer, Shanti Celeste. Stoked to know she’s one of the first to open the proceedings. Shot by Duncan Jacob.

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

ALL I SEE IS SHEER UNADULTERATED BLISS. HERE’S WHY.

  1. Music. There’s an incredibly passionate artist on stage, and they’re pleased to provide the soundtrack to a beautiful, sunny day in Amsterdam. You can dance like no-one’s watching because everyone’s there for the same reason as you – to appreciate music.
  2. People. Oh God, this wonderful crowd. Teeming with energy. Hailing from all across the world. You meet a stranger on day 1 of the festival. By day 3, you’re swapping cool stories over a Lucky Strike. At the bar is a cute girl who wants to give you a hug. No, wait, she just wants your water. She gives you a hug anyway. Wide smiles plastered across lovely, happy faces, everywhere you look. The energy is infectious. And man, do I love it!
  3. Hedonism. Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’d know that Amsterdam has a thriving night-time culture. Without giving too much away, let’s leave it at this: I’ve always been a mischievous child, and love having a fucking good time.

Those are just three reasons justifying why I will travel to another country to attend a music festival. I could go on.

You may not see the sense in my behavior. My parents certainly don’t!

Or maybe you think I’ve lost my marbles. Most already do…so no surprises there.

The calm before the storm

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5:54 AM. 21 August 2017. Predawn photo outside my Airbnb in Arugam Bay, Sri Lanka. Celebrating my 24th year of being alive alongside my best friend, Anmol.

“The idea of waiting for something makes it more exciting.”

Warhol said it right.

I hope I’ve made my case for how excited I am for Dekmantel Festival.

If you’d like to board my hype train, follow my Instagram, (the link is not functional because I have paused my music vlogging for the foreseeable future – I’m not sure if I will return) where you can see my daily countdown in action. I also post the occasional Story, which is always a bonus; my mum says I’m devilishly handsome. Oh, mums! Aren’t they the best? What would we do without them.

More to the point, I wonder if in 3 weeks I’ll be questioning if there’s life after Dekmantel.

Only time will tell. Until then.

Here’s to good times, good music, good places, and good people.

radekmantel-sunset

Looking forward to an Amsterdam good time. Shot by Duncan Jacob. Cover photo by Bart Heemskerk.