Paul Rayner

For years, Britain imported its dance-music future from Chicago, Detroit and New York. Then Yorkshire started making records that sounded like nowhere else. They called it bleep. Which is a slightly daft name for music where the real weapon was usually the bass. Minimal synth tones. Huge sub frequencies. Electro drums. House and techno stripped back until there was barely anything left except pressure. It was not glamorous. It was not obviously designed for pop radio.

Before every DJ set lived online forever, missing a rave actually meant missing it. Unless, of course, somebody had the tape. Borrow one from a mate, copy it, copy the copy, then wonder why the hi-hats sounded like they were being played through a kettle. Or buy the full tape pack and take half the rave home in an enormous plastic box. It was clumsy, imperfect and brilliant.

Electronic music and gambling have been linked for decades. Vegas nightclubs were booking DJs before EDM was a mainstream genre, and the connection between club culture and casino floors has deepened since the pandemic pushed both industries deeper into digital. It’s more than cosmetic, though.