Over the past few decades, the Chinese electronic scene has grown into a vibrant and eclectic culture. One producing some of the freshest international acts worldwide, set domestically between four capitals: Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzhen, and Chengdu.
Growth has been staggered, and at the mercy of differing waves of state cultural policy. But the scene has persevered, sometimes inexplicably.
Chinese raving is a unique paradox. Partying in one of the world’s most tightly monitored and policed states, in places that feel totally free. Euphorically lawless. Places that feel out of sight, at least most of the time.
Raids are a reality, however, and the scene exists at the mercy of differing waves of state cultural policy. The authority of the police force in all major cities means that parties can be subject to immediate and random closure.
Solidarity holds the scene together. A mutual respect for the creative work put into parties, and of the common struggle for resources, protection and recognition.
These changes and waves of momentum are felt particularly in Beijing, the nucleus of Chinese politics and surveillance and ground zero for any cultural position adopted by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP)..
Nightswimmer
Nightswimmer (@_night_swimmer on IG) is a fixture of the Beijing club circuit. Originally from Wuhan, he describes his style of deejaying as “euphoric, tribal, eerie, and transcendental”. His latest release, ‘Xia Ye’, premiered in 2022 on Beijing label Shy People. It’s a sonically brilliant piece, expertly navigating a reverberated landscape of changing speed, East asian strings, and classical synths, peppered with moments of introspection and elation.
He’s now a regular DJ and promoter around the capital, and organises a party called Pot of Gold, named after Chestnut’s 1992 house classic.
Nightswimmer says that the national palette, and a lack of emphasis on musical education in the country, is one of the biggest limitations for producers. “We don’t have this kind of music history … in middle school, all the musical classes might be replaced by maths or Chinese. So [we] don’t have this kind of basis for underground music.”
Nightswimmer says he feels that local crowds don’t support Chinese acts, and worries that the current surge in popularity may just be a product of fad culture. “I can see a huge decline in the number of audience[s] … people recently take clubs and rave music as something like a craze. They might think that techno is fashionable … they might not really care about music.”
He says that electronic musicians are marginalised in Chinese society, a space that generally holds little regard for the value of music. “DJs are the underdogs of [our] music industry … it’s still pretty barren compared to other countries’, especially European culture.”
He says that the support of the community, however, a familiar network connected across the nation, keeps the scene alive. “I feel connected with the community here. Everyone is very supportive and whenever a promoter is having a party all other promoters and close friends join up and we enjoy this party. That’s the reason why this community can always survive.”
NYB
Beijing-born DJ NYB says that harsh policing makes it hard to throw government approved, or even ignored parties. “It’s like walking a tightrope, and running very carefully.”
A resident of TAG, one of Chengdu’s staple clubs, and frequent performer on the Beijing circuit, he says that Beijing politics have had an immense trickle-down effect on the health of the scene. “We had a very promising electronic music scene around the 2008 Beijing Olympics, but then because of political reasons, because of drug control, because of cultural control, we didn’t grow as we wanted.”
In the last few years particularly, the government has escalated its stance on drugs and turned its attention to nightclubs and parties. Random raids, forced testing, imprisonment and deportation have pushed much of the talent overseas, to greener cultural pastures. Recently, however, the stagnation of the economy has seemed to blunt the intensity of the attention afforded to electronic music spaces.
“Around the time of the epidemic, everyone seems to have regained their enthusiasm, and the potential of China’s electronic music scene now seems endless,” says NYB.
Digital restrictions mean that promoters and DJs must also get creative with promotion. “Due to the controls on the Internet, we cannot use IG, RA, etc. to obtain party information,” says NYB.
Parties are distributed by digital word-of-mouth. Immense Wechat group chats where promoters and deejays can share their events with the community. The work is thankless. DJs work for low quotes. Club owners make little return, even losses on events. Bar and venue staff work for very little. Sometimes nothing at all.
“I think it’s love,” says NYB. “Some of my friends have lost a lot of money running clubs and have put a lot of time in. I think it can only be like that with love.”
Where to now?
These problems are typical. High overheads, police pressure, underfunding. All familiar issues for promoters and deejays around the world. But here, they are particularly pronounced. Digital restrictions make it harder for foreign label heads and promoters to connect with and discover Chinese acts. But this enclosure also gives the scene a distinct element: Character.
Electronic music today can feel, at times, homogenous. Much of the music today is the product of a new generation of bedroom producers, connected by digital landscapes. Their sonic cues are the same, their mediums similar, and they innovate along the same lines.
Like the turtles on the Galapagos, isolation has forced Chinese producers to evolve alone. Digital captivity has made the Chinese look inward. Taking cues from their own musical history, infusing their electronic music with a strong national character.
This has produced a unique style of production and catalogue of national work, particularly ambient and atmospheric music, defined by distinctly Chinese musical elements and a clear energy. It tells a story. And Chinese electronic is one of the most authentic capsules for contemporary Chinese culture.
A recent uptick in interest may prove fruitful, positioning Chinese electronic as a cultural ambassador to the world. Deeper and more frequent coverage by big publications like RA and mixmag, and more consistent parties by large international brands like Keep Hush and Boiler Room are exposing more and more of China’s scene to the rest of the world.
The success of rising diasporic stars like Tzusing, Ciel, CLARA and many more are pulling international eyes to the scene, and local acts are pushing to capitalise on the creative momentum of the lockdown period.
In Nightswimmer’s words, “We want to make our own voice in the international music scene. We want to produce our own music, our own style.”
To learn more, check out:
Ben Mullinkosson’s ‘The Last Year of Darkness’ (2023)
Lumi’s ‘Mainland Pressure – China’s Underground Club Culture’ (available on Maekan)
Jemma Polanski’s Can China’s underground club culture survive the country’s rise in state surveillance and control? (available on Mixmag online)
Nick Taylor’s ‘The Nail in the Coffin’: Why Have So Many Artists Left China During The Pandemic (available on RA online)
