top of page

'Every time I do it, I'm breaking the law': Going Underground in India


Lightshow projected on Kalwar Castle for Locals District 2019. Photo courtesy of Locals District

Challenging stodgy social norms and embracing inclusivity, India's underground scene is an unstoppable techno revolution.

If you find yourself at a techno party in India you could be anywhere of a number of locations: a five-star luxury hotel, a farmhouse mansion on the outskirts of Delhi, a random field in a secret location, a palace belonging to a royal prince (who might be spotted milling about somewhere if you look carefully), an underground car park, or the basement of a promoter’s house. And maybe a standard club venue if you’re planning to go low-key.

Even for travellers familiar with the historically rich sub-continent, techno and raving subculture doesn’t usually place high on the list of associations with India. The stereotypical images that come to mind – snake charmers, beautiful women in colourful sarees and multi-limbed ancient goddesses – conjure a spiritual and cultural haven locked in time, inhospitable to the grunge and hedonism of the technologically driven underground scene.

To a certain degree these preconceptions hold true. With contentious general elections for the Lok Sabha (India’s government) coming to a close today, resistance to Westernization was high on the agenda. In a (successful) bid to secure victory, the incumbent and victorious Hindu-nationalist ruling party the BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party) set fire to a cultural tug-of-war, charging Western influences with corrupting India’s already endangered religious, socio-cultural traditions (India had a closed economy until 1991 in a bid to keep foreign influences away). Given that India in many ways is still reeling from its colonial past, even amongst its liberal youth there are concerns that globalisation trends are little more than ciphers for a second wave of Western imperialism.

During my eight months in India I lived in two cities, Pune (pronounced Poo-nay or Poo-na), which sits two hours south of Bombay, and Delhi, the country’s capital. Known colloquially as ‘Oxford of the East’, Pune is host to a range of universities and its vibrant nightlife was geared towards the interests of students. Finding a proper techno party, however, was tricky.

I also paid a short visit to Goa, the infamous coastal party region that attracts visitors from all over the world for its legendary techno and psytrance parties. Unfortunately it was still off-season, so the all-night beach side raves hadn’t yet kicked off, although I did go to Curlies Beach Shack where I half-heartedly raved to a tech-house-psytrance amalgamation on the empty luminescent dance floor and witnessed a marriage proposal on the dance floor halfway through the night.

Rodriguez Jr. playing Day 2 at Locals District. Photo courtesy of Locals District

It was when I moved to Delhi that things finally started to spice up from the techno side of things, where I had a choice of events to choose from every week. Hoping to get the 411 on India’s underground scene I chatted to Local’s founder Vijay Kumar, whose collective throws monthly party in secret locations around Delhi. India is a large place of variegated interests and each state has its own flavour of musical predilections. According to Vijay, “Delhi is techno. Bombay is new disco.” While techno’s prominence in Europe has exploded, for the majority of club-goers in India, Bollywood, Punjabi and EDM are their mainstays of music genres. According to Vijay, initially, “techno wasn’t accepted in India”, whose rapidly growing youth population aligned themselves more closely with the treacly voices, cheesy lyrics, and jumpy beats of Bollywood songs. "To make that shift from music which has a lot of vocals and lyrics to just music is a mind shift of its own”.

In comparison to the techno I would hear in Europe, the techno played in India veers towards the lighter end of the heaviness spectrum. According to Vijay, this is just a natural part of the electronic listening evolution process. Like most newbie listeners, whose starting point is the floaty realms of deep house before graduating to tech house, edging closer and closer to irreverence before diving head first into the sweating-inducing, throbbing tension of techno’s dark underbelly, India’s music taste is following the well-trodden curve of a graduated arc. While I agree with him, I think there’s more to it. Like most Western imports, India’s underground scene will always put its own colourful, Bollywood inspired stamp on techno. And therein lies its beauty.

As well as throwing parties, Vijay has been DJing under the moniker Mister K for the past decade. When he started out, getting booked for gigs was a lot harder than it is today. "Ten years back it was very tough for us to play because venues wouldn't book you because they wouldn't make money off you.”

While the underground scene in India is still in its nascent stages, there has been surge of interest in techno in the past three years, with international artists flying in to play every weekend. According to Vijay, “International agents are looking at India as a great place to send their DJs. But there was a time where even agents wouldn't look at India as a great place to function, they were sceptical.”

He attributes techno's popularity to the Internet era, with the rise of social media and music sharing platforms becoming increasingly accessible to anyone in all corners of the world (Spotify was the only music hosting site trailing behind, finally launching in India on February 26th of this year having cited licensing issues for its delay). Travel is another major factor. Upper class Indians with the means to attend events and festivals across the globe are broadening their musical horizons, which is naturally imprinting itself on local music scenes.

Light show projection on Castle Kalwar at Local's District. Photo courtesy of Locals District

Responding to the growing appetite for electronic music there has been a rise in on-the-ground promoters, with a heap of new faces elbowing their way to the table in recent years and months. Their arrival has been received with mixed reviews. Some of the people I spoke to accused them of being dilettantes, entrepreneurial rich kids who spotted a rising new trend and wanted a slice of the action without the music credentials or passion to back them up. However, the injection of capital this brought allowed international artists to be flown in, whose hefty airfares on top of their fees were difficult for smaller promoters to swallow, so in a round-about-way kind of a way, everyone benefits.

Vijay’s own Locals parties have been going from strength to strength and what started off as a small gathering of people in March 2017 now attracts a 600-strong crowd for its BYOB events featuring local artists. But planning parties in India comes with its fair share of risks and hardships.

The kinds of obstacles faced by promoters will be more than familiar to those throwing parties in Ireland, who oftentimes find themselves going head to head with the long arm of the law. Similar to our own archaic licensing laws, event organizers in India find themselves hampered by restrictive curfews, limits on alcohol (I attended a wedding in Bihar which is a dry state, meaning alcohol is completely forbidden) and the last-minute shutting down of parties by the police. In Delhi it is forbidden to play music outside after 11pm and bars and clubs are expected to shut down at 1.30am.

For promoters like Vijay who want to bring the uninhibited freedom of the underground to India, organizing parties that are transgressive in nature means acting in defiance of the Indian state.

The pursuance of subversion is always fraught with danger, so the covert dimension of the Locals party is a practical matter of safety and sound judgement rather than a kitschy PR strategy to lure patrons. Guests are invited on a referral-based model, so unless you have someone to vouch for you, you’re not getting in. According to Vijay, "You really need to be particular about the kind of people that are coming to the party. That's why we have a filter.” Despite Delhi boasting a population of 17 million, screening guests in this way fostered a cosy, community atmosphere across events. While it may be the subculture of India’s music scene, techno has a loyal and tight-knit fan base. Weekend after weekend I would see the same faces and before long, I was welcomed as one of the regulars. A further aspect is the safety of female patrons, as the referral-based model helps ensure that women are respected and unhampered by unwanted attention. Environments profuse with alcohol and are always a hotbed for unwanted male attention, and according to Vijay, "Indian men still don't know how to party. They don't know how to handle their drinks….it makes it unsafe for women." To counteract this they have strict policies in place and have no trouble banning anyone seen causing trouble.

Woman getting her face painted at Locals District. Photo courtesy of Locals District

Having said that, my overall experience as a white woman in these spaces was overwhelmingly positive. While I did receive a lot of stares and it wouldn’t be unusual to find myself encircled by men on the dance floor, I never experienced any groping or inappropriate touching that made me uncomfortable. If anything, I noted the gracious politeness of Indian men if ever they accidentally bumped into me while moving through a crowd.

Indian public spaces are often marked by the steep unequal ratio of men and women, so striving for a balance between men and women is irregular but an imperative step in cultivating an inviting environment for all genders. Vijay stressed this point, saying, “We want women to feel safe and people have a great time and feel free… women always make the party nicer. Always."

Another important aspect of the Locals ethos was the element of affordability, hence the BYOB concept. Some clubs in Delhi charge extortionately high prices for cover charge, far more than I would be used to paying back home in Ireland, and a single drink could cost the same price as a meal would in a fancy restaurant. With a prohibitively expense price tag attached to partying, only a certain demographic of Indian society has access to the kind of spaces where techno music is played. The average person at a gig is wealthy and upper middle class with disposable income.

When it came to venues, the mix of locations where I found myself was about as masala as it gets; some worked really well and others not at all. Parties hosted in fancy bars or lavish hotels were the ones that felt most out of place, making it hard to connect to the music. Surrounded by gold-gilded wallpaper, chandeliers, and cooks on stand-by, it was like the confusing love child of an Indian wedding and a misguided tech-house festival.

Not that blame should be laid solely at the feet of promoters. The ecosystem of venues, patrons and promoters in India’s clubbing scene in general is moneyed and elitist, so slotting in the unpolished and grimy vibes of the underground scene was inevitably going to entail some dissonance.

Alsisar Mahal in Jaipur, Rajasthan during Magnetic Fields 2018. Photo credit: Emma Tian Williamson

It was when I attended Magnetic Fields, a techno festival in its sixth year held in the stunning Alsisar Mahal in Rajastahn’s capital Jaipur, that I fully grasped the luxury attached to India’s party scene. Accustomed as I was to the plebeian pitch-your-own tent camping tradition in Europe, a friend and I arrived armed with sleeping bag, blankets and wet wipes to survive our desert sojourn during the freezing nights and boiling hot days. Looking around the campsite we were stunned to find a smattering of maybe thirty or so tents and for the first five minutes I was convinced we had infiltrated the staff section by mistake. Little did we know that most of the 3,000 or so attendees of Magnetic Fields would be staying in the section hosting the Bedouin Tents, pre-pitched structures that included a patio with deck-chairs, two single beds, and a bathroom with running water, a shower, and get this, an enamel toilet. Only the hoi polloi, we realized, endured the indecency of bringing your own.

The festival itself was like a magical fairyland acid trip, and not just because we spared ourselves the grimness of having to use a portaloo. Showcasing native talent and international acts, the line-up featured the likes of Daphni, Bicep and Leon Vynehall, filling a magical three days of non-stop partying on the grounds of the mahal. In a similar vein, Locals also hosts its own dreamy three-day festival at the Castle Kalwar in Jaipur, flying in Kevin Saunderson as its headliner, as well as the likes of Perel, Martin Eyerer, Pole Folder, and Rodriguez Jr. amongst others.

Shanti Celeste play her set at Magnetic Fields. Photo credit: Emma Tian Williamson

To a certain degree, the luxury aspect of venues is causing a conflict of interests when it comes to the quality of event. Part of the issue is promoters and DJs coming up against profit-driven venues, who prefer to spend money on décor rather than investing in a good sound system. "I don't think there's any club in Delhi which has the perfect sound installed”, says Vijay. “They'll spend a couple of Lakhs [1 Lakh Rupees = €12,842] on a chandelier or buy a fucking gold sofa. But they won't have good sound."

But Indian audiences are discerning and starting to demand higher quality from their events, so club owners better pay attention if they want to keep their crowd. I attended one event, an audio-visual immersive collaboration called ‘Artefact Assassin’ hosted by Social in Dhan Mill, where the sound was so bad my friends and I simply walked out.

Without the state support for the arts that exists elsewhere, ‘making it’ in the creative field in India is difficult without private capital to back you up. Vijay laments India’s lack of state-sponsored art initiatives, sighing, "We can't even feed mouths, how do we support art?"

Daphni and Shanti Celeste playing a surprise set at Magnetic Fields. Photo credit: Emma Tian Williamson

Luxury hotels aside, some promoters knew the importance of location, going that extra mile to find imaginative settings that brought out the darker side of techno. As well as Locals, some of the best Delhi parties I attended were those organised by Warpcore, whose alternating venues included the basement of somebody’s house and an underground car park. Encased in the dungeon-like atmosphere with trippy lights and laser beams, it was easy to lose myself in the rolling sound waves and electric atmosphere.

Another of my favourite venues famous for disrupting stodgy cultural norms was Kitty Su, a queer-friendly club that champions inclusivity, diversity and gender parity. Up until very recently homosexuality was criminalised under S377 of India’s Penal Code. I was one of the many millions in India jubilantly celebrating the occasion on 6th September 2018 when the Supreme Court threw out the archaic, colonial law, bringing a victorious end to a fraught legal battle that had been raging for decades. As well as hosting a whole spate of local and international talent, Kitty Su treats its guests to mind-blowing drag queen performances during its sets. Have you truly experienced all India has to offer without witnessing a fabulous drag queen strutting their stuff on stage? The only disadvantage to Kitty Su was the cost of drinks and entry, by far the most expensive I came across, so their definition of inclusivity obviously has its limits.

De Wallen stage at Locals District. Photo courtesy of Locals District

On my way to and from these events, driving through dusty city streets, avoiding ambling cows and passing street sellers dressed in traditional clothing, I wondered what they would think if they knew what I was up to. When I asked Vijay how his parties are viewed by mainstream Indian society his reply was unequivocal and to the point: "It’s not viewed at all. They don't even know it’s happening. It’s underground." In a society still battling against conservative, misogynistic and sexually repressive norms, the revolutionary significance of these parties should not be underestimated. According to Vijay, “A place like India desperately needs an underground scene.” Creating a sex-positive, safe space in which patrons can feel free, everyone dresses as they please and physical displays of affection are not shunned, is still, to a certain degree, a radical act in India. Women were free to dress as they pleased at parties, wearing short skirts, revealing tops and thigh high boots, without fear of the judgement or harassment they might be subjected to on the street.

The peace of mind this offered me felt like a home away from home. During the daytime, in an effort to eschew unwanted attention and prying eyes, I would de-sexualise myself as far possible by wearing loose-fitting clothing and showing little skin. While I eventually got used to it, the overwhelmingly male presence in public spaces was ubiquitous and concerns for my physical safety were never far from my mind. Having found a space where I could leave those fears at the door and dress as I please, partying was as much about the release as it was about the music.

If you are planning a trip to India make sure to check out Locals, Warpcore and Kitty Su

Featured Posts
Recent Posts
Archive
Search By Tags
No tags yet.
Follow Us
  • Facebook - White Circle
  • Twitter - White Circle
  • Instagram - White Circle
bottom of page