Before it was called EDM—and the unknowledgeable referred to it broadly as “techno”—I was dancing my ass off all night. NorCal raised: Massives (Field of Dreams, Future Fest, Frequency 8), warehouses, Bay Area clubs, late ’90s/early 2000s. Flyers were sacred artifacts, and kandi was everywhere. A scene like that will never exist again. You'd call the number the day of for directions, replay the chaotic voicemail (and call back) to catch every word. MapQuest was new miracle, and you would drive until you heard the bass rumble. Big parties meant hours in line—freezing or dusty—but once you were there, the sound and the people took you to another dimension. No cellphone cameras, or Insta...just music, sweat, and community. Later, my crew and I started throwing renegades in the woods (generator drama included). Now I’m a student behind the decks: vinyl devotee, no auto sync, no pretending. Drum & bass isn’t a passing phase, it's a way of life. And that's how I got here folks!