Proposed bylaw could put an end to rave parties

No more dancing the Night Away

Publication title: Edmonton Journal
Pages: B4 Section: City
Publication date: Jun 14, 2001
ProQuest document ID: 252827177
Copyright: Copyright Southam Publications Inc. Jun 14, 2001
Author: Sinnema, Jodie



Abstract:

Raves like this one won't be worth the money or the wait if a new city bylaw is passed June 26 that shuts down raves and all- night dance clubs at 3 a.m. If that happens, this rave (that went over the weekend) could well be the last in Edmonton.

That would leave the 3,500 dancers at this rave with no place to go. Many of them sign a petition objecting to the proposed bylaw.

Full text:
It's 2 a.m. and the party has just begun.

About 100 people are still waiting in line to get into what could be the last rave to hit Edmonton -- Viva Las Vegas at the Sportex building.

Feather boas are tucked under chins and Dr. Seuss hats are pulled tightly over ears against the cool, night winds. These are hard- core rave-goers, people who show up fashionably late for a party that will go at least until 7 a.m.

They pay a fistful for party privileges. Tickets start at $25 and go up to $48. One man wants in so badly he pays $200 to a person tired of waiting in the two-hour lineup.

For many, it's well worth the wait.

Inside, Spilt Milk, Keoki and Junior Brown are scratching the vinyl along with 21 other DJs.

Young people in white Nikes, tuques and sequined bras are jumping to the beat. Hands in white gloves leave streaks of light as people dance to a techno beat that makes your eyeballs pulse.

This is what they've come for: the music, the dancing, the electric atmosphere.

But raves like this one won't be worth the money or the wait if a new city bylaw is passed June 26 that shuts down raves and all- night dance clubs at 3 a.m. If that happens, this rave (that went over the weekend) could well be the last in Edmonton.

That would leave the 3,500 dancers at this rave with no place to go. Many of them sign a petition objecting to the proposed bylaw.

"City councillors have pulled a fast one!" reads an information pamphlet from the Edmonton Right to Dance coalition, the protest organizer.

"City officials and community members spent a year developing a reasonable bylaw, but last-minute changes have turned it into a death sentence for dance culture."

The coalition urges people to show up to a massive protest outside City Hall on Sunday, June 24, two days before the city council vote.

The petition reads: "We believe city council should not make laws to restrict the freedom of expression and freedom of association of citizens engaged in lawful activity."

Ginger Gamache, 28, her face sparkling from the lights as she stands in line, says she would be upset if the bylaw passes.

She is a regular client of Sublime, an all-night dance club that opens at 2 a.m.

"It's a really clean environment," she says. "There is no alcohol and it's all adults with real responsibilities come Monday."

She supports one clause of the bylaw that would ban minors from clubs after midnight. "These kids don't need to be in that environment," she says. "They should be going to school and doing their homework."

Sublime doesn't allow minors. Neither does this rave.

Young-looking faces dotting the crowd seem to say otherwise, but no one admits to being underage.

Guards at the front entrance inspect each driver's licence, giving cursory looks from the photo to the person's face and down again.

Many of these ravers don't want to see minors out late at night. They say drugs do happen, but can't be stopped.

Outside, signs warn that a pat- down is in effect, but most dancers file through once they've emptied their purses.

No pills allowed, no markers to colour the walls, no water, no sleeping bags.

If they leave the rave, there is no re-entry.

In the Sportex -- where the air is already thick with music and the smell of sweat from bare-chested men flailing their arms -- pockets of sweet-smelling clouds attest to pot smokers.

Alberta Drug Harm Reduction Society has a booth set up along the wall, next to the vendors selling T-shirts, lollypops and glow sticks. Police circulate.

"There is no alcohol. What's the big deal?" says Shelina Brown, a 19-year-old glammed out in purple hair and face glitter. "It's a really good atmosphere. Everyone goes there to dance."

It feels like a festival with attitude. People are standing in line to have their faces painted.

Others have towels and thin blankets spread out upon which to rest bodies aching from aerobic activity.

Water is only available from a vendor. If the new bylaw is passed, club owners must also provide cold drinking water free of charge. Many ravers welcome this idea.

Brown and her friend, Colleen Shaw, say that without alcohol, people rarely pick fights. They say the environment is generally clean and less of a meat-market than regular clubs.

Emily Manning, 21, says, "It's more hazardous if (minors) get into a bar. They go there to meet friends and have fun and get completely sloshed."

Manning, Brown and Shaw are sober, as are most others in line. Some are not so clear-headed.

If all-night raves are banned, ravers say underground clubs will take over.

"There won't be security underground. There won't be any EMTs (emergency medical technicians). Nobody will be there to step in if something goes wrong," says Michelle, 26, who didn't want her last name used. With the bad rap given to raves, Michelle, a professional, says she doesn't dare discuss them at work.

If those partying are sent home at 3 a.m., those who are high on drugs might choose to drive home, says another woman.

If they have until sunrise, there is time to come down. People also have the choice to use public transportation.

"You come out and the sun is shining," says Shaw.

"It's all about endurance."

Illustration


Photo: Brian Gavriloff, The Journal / A local group of club owners and rave promoters, the Right to Dance Coalition, is fighting the proposed rave bylaws. ;

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