18 OctOber 26–NOvember 1, 2023 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents Rave Reviews The techno scene in Fort Worth isn’t out of nowhere. BY AVA THOMPSON T echno is gaining a stronghold in the country town of Fort Worth, but this surge in popularity isn’t all new. For those following the scene, this latest techno trend is a resurgence or even a renaissance. Dallas has the club and nightlife infra- structure to keep the parties going — a tradi- tion dating back to the famous Starck Club on McKinney Avenue — but Texas’ techno scene has been growing out of unlikely cor- ners, crystallizing in Fort Worth’s current Gen Z techno awakening. Techno came from Black musicians in Detroit, made its way to Berlin and across Europe, and, eventually, came to Texas. Techno in Texas comes with its own set of difficulties. For one, dancing in a warehouse with no air conditioning in the heat of sum- mer’s triple digits is a difficult sell. Texas also has dance and nightlife laws unlike the North (so Footloose of us) that make the par- ties stop at a mere 2 a.m. In the early days, the techno scene was centered around Dallas. DJ and producer Minto George started the label Down Low Music in Dallas in 1999, making a name for the city’s sound and also championing art- ists such as Fort Worth’s Plastic Sleeves and Austin’s Bill Converse. Back in those days, Fort Worth DJ Rick Simpson was playing techno in Dallas, not really Fort Worth. “I was not focused on trying to do things in Fort Worth because I knew I could just go down the road and there would be a party ready [in Dallas],” he says. “This was proba- bly ‘95 to maybe early 2000s. I was really ju- venile. I was playing all kinds of rave and techno and stuff mixed together… It was kind of a naive approach to everything be- cause it wasn’t the internet days and every- body latching onto a certain clique or sound. It was just like ‘this is electronic music, we’re going to go party.’” Tiago Verjao was one of Fort Worth’s techno pioneers during the early aughts. “It started with me getting to travel places when I was younger and getting to experi- ence house and techno in a broader sense in towns that have big DJ culture like New York, Chicago and San Francisco,” he says. Verjao was ready to bring techno to Texas and threw his first party at Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studio in Denton. “We did the first queer night, or LGBT night at Rubber Gloves,” he says. “We called it Denton Is Burning, named after the fa- mous [film] Paris Is Burning.” Verjao kept DJing throughout the area and eventually leased a loft in Cleburne, just south of Fort Worth. “I would throw free private parties with kind of, like, world-renowned DJs from all around the world,” he says. “A bunch of people from all across the state of Texas would come, and it spawned off from there. It was kind of like a safe space party, which was kind of also not really heard of at that time.” Varjao eventually stopped throwing par- ties, and his attendees became DJs them- selves. Years later, one of Varjao’s Cleburne followers, Skyler Salinas, entered the Fort Worth music scene with a punk band, tran- sitioning to techno — as DJ Kowboy — after spending some time in Mexico City. “A lot of people I know that used to play in bands, especially in the punk scene, started switching over to dance music, like techno specifically,” Salinas says. “All the other cities in Texas, they have a lot of DJs, but their scene isn’t necessarily as big. They don’t nec- essarily get as many people out. … I feel like DFW and particularly in Fort Worth now, we have a much larger and healthier scene.” And now, Gen Z collectives such as Bev- erly Hills Cowboy are at the center of Fort Worth techno. The collective includes three resident DJs: Jesus Freak, Maya Loft and Luna, all in their early 20s. Jesus Freak started throwing parties two years ago. “It literally just started as a small series of parties I would throw with my friends,” he says. “Obviously, it ultimately grew into something way bigger.” He grew up in a Mexican family, his childhood soundtracked by cumbias and other traditional Latin music. Conveniently, his uncle was a DJ and let him use his com- puter to try his hand at DJing. “Being a kid, I would always go to my cousin’s house and just mess around with the computer and listen to some of the songs he had on there,” says Jesus Freak. During the pandemic, he started watch- ing YouTube videos about rave culture, im- mediately drawn to the ‘90s parties being thrown in Chicago, Detroit and Berlin. “I was seeing all of that stuff happening,” he says. “I was very inspired by it. I kept tell- ing myself, ‘I want this here. I want the whole rave culture here.’” And for all its mayhem, the pandemic had its small silver linings. “When the pandemic happened and all the clubs in Dallas shut down, I think that really did help us in a way,” the DJ says. The small parties grew from simple gath- erings with friends, but still maintained their authentic DIY feel. “I just want people to come here because they play amazing music and they offer an amazing space … We create an atmosphere,” says Jesus Freak. “We go above and beyond as far as setting up for a show. We make sure the lighting we have is going to wow people. We’ve used TVs in the past to create a whole atmosphere.” The parties have grown so large that vet- eran DJs can’t help but pay attention. “They will bring elements of rave and techno and cumbia, Latin-influenced stuff, some ‘90s elements of electronics and that’s appealing to the people going out now,” Simpson says. This sound is grounded in nostalgia, sure, but it’s also forward-thinking. “Part of techno is always about the future and progression,” Simpson says. “And, if we’re always going backwards, we are not using the formula being futurists and trying to create something unique.” Jesus Freak and Beverly Hills Cowboy are maintaining that safe space Verjao was after in Cleburne years ago. “A big thing was building a community where people of color, whatever race, sexu- ality, anything can come together and feel safe and have fun,” Jesus Freak says. “That was my biggest thing — was creating a safe space for mainly queer, LGBT people.” As a new generation takes on Fort Worth techno, the longtime DJs have the pleasure of bearing witness to the culture’s growth. “Kids are enjoying it,” Verjao says. “I never thought in my life we would have safe queer space … People just dancing to techno music in the bar-type environment. The Fort Worth I grew up in was all rock ‘n’ roll. It wasn’t ever dance music. “I really just hope kids keep enjoying the music and keep playing for one another and protecting each other and having these ex- periences together in these environments … It’s important for people to feel liberated and be able to dance in colors.” ▼ Music Katya Zakar Fort Worth techno fans go hard at a Beverly Hills Cowboy party. Hand built not bougHt. Franklins TaTToo and supply TWo loCaTions: 469-904-2665 • 4910 Columbia ave, dallas, TX 75214 open now • 903-710-2028 • 17581 old Jacksonville hwy, flint tx 75762 proFessional TaTToo supply For pros only Call for your appointment or design commissions today! www.dallasobserver.com/signup go to WEEKLY EMAIL D SIGN UP FOR OUR WEEKLY EMAIL LIST for feature stories, movie reviews, calendar picks and more!
