It’s Lucia time again – a reason for family and friends to come together in joy, a season to let go of our differences and unite in the love of putting candles on our heads, and an occasion to celebrate martyrdom in the name of religion.
St. Lucy was this important woman who died in 304 A.D. for brother Jesus. The whole candle “crown” thingy had a few different explanations, one of the more popular ones being an ingenious solution for a primitive head-torch when she needed both hands free to deliver humanitarian aid to the Christians hiding in the dark catacombs from Roman persecution. She died gruesomely by having her eyes gouged out. And we honour her by giving her a special day in our calendars.
But for the Psytrance family (we’re not related by blood, but rather by our callous exchange of body fluids) in Malmö, we’ve taken off our shoes, put on our bindis, and turned on the neon lights to dance our tits off in this all-female-DJ tribute to the saint.
This event wasn’t advertised as “Girl Attack” or “Female DJs FTW”, in fact, there was no mention of the DJs’ genders. And that’s the way we like it – gender-blind style. I mean, we support good DJs, and we’re all for equality. But we also believe that we should leave gender out of the equation whenever there shouldn’t be a concern for that. Whoever plays good music is a good DJ, even if you’re a hermaphrodite panda. But I guess this time, to keep to the whole Lucia theme, only female DJs were booked.
Right from the moment we arrived, we realised that it was indeed a family gathering. Loads of sweaty dreadlocks, bindis, familiar faces, beautiful people, and with every step we took, our favourite unicorn galloping triplets grew louder and louder, slowly but surely taking control of our mindscapes.
Gothenburg’s rainbow warriors have decided to head south to join arms with the Malmö hippies in this private revolution, bathing ourselves in cheap alcohol and frolicking in our combined soul soup. We celebrated the distinct absence of the gold-chain-wearing-pumped-up Malmö macho fucktard, and lauded that the punk-wannabe hipster with the huge moustache was somewhere else drinking his craft beer.
No weird stares, no creepy vibes, no uninvited touching, no one talking about politics or feminism or veganism – a huge difference from the majority of the parties happening in Malmö these days.
The dance floor was honoured with dance (yes, it’s called a dance floor for a reason), hugs, and smiles. Ok, some eyes were fixated on the heavens in search of enlightenment, and I’m sure they found something. The whole space was transformed into a realm of psychedelic utopia, with string art monsters given birth by GringoStringo threatening to consume our brains, 3D paintings (they looked 3D to me) depicting faraway dimensions, and neon lights that illuminated our paths to higher consciousness.
Jessi with a smile warmed up the systems with minimal and progressive psytrance, opening the scene to LunaTales and Symbioz, who took us up to speed with their high-bpm musical weapons. And as the darkest night of the year progressed, the dreams of dancing mushrooms and smiling pixies gave way to nightmarish ghouls and bloodthirsty aliens that tore our minds apart.
ElenaYantra and the legendary LOA unleashed the hellhounds into our mindscapes, tormenting the dancing hippies and wrecking their souls, before Aviora finally obliterated the last bits of our consciousness and sanity with her blistering machine gun hi-tech.
We could hardly breathe. But in this dimension, who needs air? All we needed was more robots, more disasters, more destruction! I stopped dancing and began my Psychohontas ritual, flailing my arms wildly and swinging my hair in honour of Shiva and Jesus and John Lennon. I was the goddess, the saviour, the dancing deity (I was also quite lost).
Sidetrack. Do you know why our Chakras are coloured this way? The colours of the rainbow, from red to violet, are an indication that if we see Mother Earth as our “light” and energy source, then we are the rainbows that radiate from the ground to the galaxies. It’s a reminder that we all are rainbow warriors, and that we are here, to shine for the planet.
Pew pew pew! Back to the assault laser rifles from Aviora. Our hearts beat as one with the hi-tech bass, our vision darted across the mechanic warzone with every sound, and our brains melted into a dirty, slimy goo that came out of our pores.
And when the lights came on, the silence became deafening. And as I looked out of the windows, the morning sunrays revealed a smiling St. Lucy from behind the industrial buildings, with bloody empty sockets for her eyes, and a big smile to thank us for dancing like wild animals in her name.
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