Over 10,000 people and 25 sound systems attended a massive free festival in Luton last weekend (August 27-30th) staged by leading party collective Exodus. The outdoor, old skool rave-style event featured a vast range of musical styles from Brazilian Samba to old school dub reggae, whilst London acid techno competed with drum & bass (with on this occasion, drum & bass winning hands down).
The now annual event happened on Exodus's famous and much contested strip of farmland, an isoceles-triangle shaped spit, hemmed in by a 10 line railway track on one side and the M1 motorway on the other. Featuring cafes, children's play areas, and walkie talkie carrying Exodus stewards, the excellence of the party highlighted how far Britain's underground cultures have developed and expanded over the last ten years, despite their continuing invisibility to much of the mainstream.
For Exodus, the journey from being a couple of hundred people disconnected dancing around a system to the force they are today has been arduous to say the least. Relentless police and political harassment has accompanied their every move in tandem with the vast array of laws passed in the 90's to outlaw raving. Cultural writer George Mackay, in his book Senseless Acts Of Beauty - Cultures Of Resistance Since the 60's, described a party held at the same location 6 years ago.
"On New Year's Eve 1993, the Exodus Party in preparation at Long Meadow Farm was raided and about 40 members were arrested" he wrote. "When would-be party goers discovered this later there was a mass demonstration of several thousand outside the central police station, demanding the release of the Exodus people and the return of the sound system, both of which duly happened. From such local support with the springboard of contemporary dance culture, the Exodus Collective have created an impressive, self reliant, politically conscious party scene and community."
6 years on, Exodus continue to face harassment from the authorities, though last weekend's party was characterised by it's friendly and peaceful vibes with no sign of the police (even outside the entrance). Clearly understanding that even for free parties, some rules are necessary, though, Exodus have gradually fine tuned their organisational methods to ensure that nobody's out of order or out of control (dogs, for example, are all kept on leads, save for one Great Dane, held back by her dreadlocked owner with a fetching length of flouro pink string.) Trouble makers and criminals are as absent as the police and like the police could quickly find themselves facing several thousand irate ravers if they tried to step out of line.
And best of all, in the weekend when Creamfields charged £40 a ticket and Reading Festival even more, Exodus remained completely free of charge. Respect!
Jonty @ Dancesite.com
