Party Lines: Dance Music and the Making of Modern Britain

by Ed Gillett

'[An] excellent history of UK dance culture' – Sunday Times

From the illicit reggae blues dances and acid-rock free festivals of the 1970s, through the ecstasy-fuelled Second Summer of Love in 1988 to the increasingly corporate dance music culture of the post-Covid era, Party Lines is a groundbreaking new history of UK dance music from journalist and filmmaker Ed Gillett, exploring its pivotal role in the social, political and economic shifts on which modern Britain has been built.

Taking in the Victorian moralism of the Thatcher years, the far-reaching restrictions of the Criminal Justice Act in 1994, and the resurgence of illegal raves during the Covid-19 pandemic, Party Lines charts an ongoing conflict, fought in basement clubs, abandoned warehouses and sunlit fields, between the revolutionary potential of communal sound and the reactionary impulses of the British establishment. Brought to life with stunning clarity and depth, this is social and cultural history at its most immersive, vital and shocking.

Genres: Music, Nonfiction, History, British Literature, Politics

518 pages, Kindle Edition

First published August 3, 2023

Reviews

[Victoria Sun · Rating 5 out of 5]

As someone who's always been curious about the sociopolitical context in which certain music genres arise (most don't exist in vacuums, as far as I'm aware), this book is a skillfully researched, well-written account of how dance music has shaped modern Britain and the financial, economic forces at play that threaten to suck the lifeblood out of the scene.

If Gillett were cynical about the whole thing, it would be easy to point fingers here and there and lament the genre's takeover by predatory forces. Instead, his love for the music and its communities shines throughout, and rather than giving us a doom-laden account, he encourages us to think more critically about our nights out and where our ticket money is really going.

I found myself laughing out loud during certain chapters, his sharp wit and incisive observation echoing much of my own discomfort with certain trends in dance music, i.e. monochrome-clad tech bros who don't mind dropping 50 quid on nights out and whose idea of a banger is a steady 4/4 beat.

Overall an engrossing read with some inspiring anecdotes at the end about people who are out there fighting to keep the more utopian, radical, world-building ideals of dance music blood-pumpingly alive.

[Lorna Berry · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant! Each chapter was perfectly detailed and compelling. Appreciated the emphasis on 'modern' - it paid dues right up to 2023, rather than indexing predominantly on the 90s, which I feel similar literature can be guilty of.

[Lydia · Rating 2 out of 5]

Some interesting chapters on pirate radio and clashes between raves and police/policies but not inclusive of a queer or female experience of dance music history.

[Joe O'Donnell · Rating 3 out of 5]

For an art form that from its underground origins set out to be ground-breaking and wildly inventive, Dance Music – as it slips into its middle-aged dotage – is increasingly prone to self-mythologising and hero worship. There is now a well-trodden ‘conventional wisdom’ about the birth of Acid House: the music originated out of the warehouses of Chicago and Detroit, was turbo-charged by a plentiful supply of ecstasy, and then both the tunes and associated drugs were brought back to Britain after Paul Oakenfold and his mates ‘discovered’ them in Ibiza. Dance Music then revolutionised youth culture in the U.K. … before a combination of Government crackdowns and corporate capture rendered it as tame and pliant as any other musical genre.

Ed Gillett’s “Party Lines” is an attempt to push back against that narrative, and instead place Dance Music back in the context of its radical countercultural roots. Gillett sets out to recontextualise Acid House within a lineage that goes back to the Hippy /New Age Traveller convoys of the 70s and 80s, the defiance of Afro-Caribbean soundsystem culture, and U.K. queer clubbing. All these scenes were efforts by minorities and the marginalised to eke out illicit spaces of collective joy and freedom, where the dancefloor served as “an alternative moral and political order” in the face of police harassment and societal disdain.

Ed Gillett is razor-sharp at analysing the economics behind electronic music and clubbing, and he is suitably scathing about how the original radicalism of club culture has been chewed up by parasitic brands like Spotify and Boiler Room, and almost homoeopathically diluted into bizarre phenomena such as ‘Business Techno’. But, while reading “Party Lines”, there are times that you wish he might cheer up just a little bit. Particularly in the second half of the book, as rave culture is subsumed into neoliberal corporatism, Gillett has a tendency to view every development in dance music through the lenses of ‘extraction’, ‘exploitation’, and ‘cultural appropriation’. You occasionally get the sense from the author that the only pure, uncompromised manifestation of rave culture he sees would be an anarcho-crusty stone circle listening to Gong circa 1982. Why this doctrinaire, overly-determinist approach tends to grate is that it loses focus of the collective joy of the dancefloor i.e. the very reason so many of us fell in love with this scene in the first place.

Nevertheless, “Party Lines” is a necessary pushback against the commodification of rave culture. In particular, this book performs a valuable service by rooting rave within a tradition of black and gay defiance against authority. In doing so, “Party Lines” is a worthy accompaniment to Jeremy Deller’s excellent documentary “Everybody in the Place” on the radical history of Acid House.

[Francesca]

THIS is the future that the left wants. If I was a non-fiction girl, this would be a 5 star book and it might still be, if I’m honestly reflecting. Ignoring that it took me a month and a bit, this book contains the world as I want to live it - if it was a manifesto, I would vote for it, if it was a religion, I would follow it.

It is filled to the brim with reflections on inclusivity in the music and events industry and, importantly, the critical impact that black culture and community has had on dance music.

It covers travellers rights, stop and search policy, climate change, capitalism and basically everything in between while referring to music by black, Asian, LQBTQ+ artists and more. I found new DJs through it, I have learned that Boiler Room is run by rich people and I have a new appreciation of subcultures that I hope will stay with me until I’m old and grey (so I never become one of the losers who call the police to report a rave that I’ve just driven past- amen 🙏)

One question though- why is Peggy’s name used in multiple situations where something is argued to be negative (including things that have nothing to do with her)? Is she problematic or are we not realising that the narrative implies that she should hold herself to an infinitely higher standard than I’m sure many white, male DJs ever have? It actually made me ??? when she was referred to in the comment about her birthday party like what is your point, did she specify that the guy should fly in his jet to come? Feels very off tone compared to the rest

[Matt Galley · Rating 2 out of 5]

Pretentious clap trap

[Sammi Dé · Rating 5 out of 5]

A well-politically-grounded historical analysis of the (ongoing) struggle between disillusioned Brits and our [completely braindead] state to realise the liberating potentials of the rave- a culture that crucially arose out of marginalised black, queer, and nomad communities.
Provides a detailed account of the co-option of the industry by capital (gentrification and homogenisation of the dancefloor); widely covers government attempts to suppress its potentially ‘radicalising’ powers through direct discussions on policy/ law.
(Author also references Adorno on multiple occasions which was based…….)

Seems to be written by an individual with expansive knowledge and experience of rave culture- giving it an authentic feel- with constant reference to DJs/collectives/soundsystems/ subgenres/ venues all around the UK (prompting the discovery of hundreds of new songs and artists to my Spotify playlists- a nice by-product of the reading).

Hopefully some of his concluding remarks serve to act as a blueprint for the future of rave- towards de-commercialised, ‘smaller’, culturally-grounded, accessible, and community-focused structures of operation.

One of my fave quotes from the book: a description of UK rave culture as “a baroque sunburst breaking into our reality from some other world, reminding us that Utopia exists and that other systems, other spaces are possible”.

[Joe Hill · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting but bet this guy is no fun at an actual rave

[Kay · Rating 4 out of 5]

Purchased for the witty title as I'm a fan of the Ashley Beedle edit. As someone who only moved to the UK in 1999 I found the anthropological telling of UK rave culture overlaid with politics informative and insightful. The writing was too verbose for my taste hence losing a star. The author would add unnecessary complexity when a simple sentence would do. Example: "Like a tsunami following an earthquake, vastly more destructive than preceding events despite being less seismic, the highly visible traumas of austerity, Brexit, the pandemic and the war in Ukraine have been followed by a far quieter but potentially even more destructive squeeze on British people's living standards, careers and disposable income." The material however is thought provoking and well researched.

[Peter Marfleet · Rating 5 out of 5]

Contrary to some views on this book I liked Ed’s prose and narrative voice. I think he straddled the line of journalistic integrity well and painted a vivid picture of each era he delved into.

[Martin Castle · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an amazing book and one that shines a light on the symbiotic and far reaching relationships of dance music environment big business and local and national government policies. It is so detailed and well researched it reads at times like an academic book which encouraged me to dip in and out of chapters etc. it certainly opens your eyes if you enjoy music to the impact of the Criminal Justice Act and the manner in which it’s applied all driven by the major papers to ensure youth culture is cracked down on and controlled. This is a great read and one I will be coming back to time and again.

[Joel Grant · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incredibly well researched blend of UK musical & social history - has a very similar feel to Jeremy Deller’s Everybody in the Place programme on BBC.

The ridiculousness of policing and power structures in the UK are on full display here - lots of it reads like it could be satire. You’ll also never look at Boiler Room the same way after reading (if you didn’t already find it painfully cringe).

[Tom · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this a great deal. It does a lot to contest, to ground in the real world, to develop a lot of received history I got out of Simon Reynolds, about the rave as temporary autonomous zone, the liberatory potential of partying, the battle of Castlemorton, the Criminal Justice Act, etc., etc.; it also foregrounds the Black British soundsystem and the New Traveller movement as being maybe more constitutory of what happens around rave than any night anyone had in Ibiza. All very good. Do you want to learn about what accidents of musical history turn out to have been dependent on different approaches to drug policing across a county line had? I mean, I do; I like to imagine I might have been, in another life, fleeing down the A666 from Manchester to Blackburn; much as my day-to-day these days is very much its-great-when-you're-straight-yeah. There is something in me which pops for sentences like "Over the summer of 1988, thousands of ravers took over an abandoned Tizer factory ..."

The continuation into the New Labour era, their self-serving deployment of rave culture, the 'creative industries', the superclubs' move towards respectability: also all good, and a mix of stuff I'd never seen martialled into a sustained narrative account before, and stuff which I'd never encountered at all (what the policing of the Big Beach Boutique means; whether there's anything to salvage from the Nine O'Clock Service.) In the book's second half, Gillett's history starts to seem a little diffuse: chapters on pirate radio, on the the shift from broadcast TV to YouTube, on the phenomenon of what he calls 'business techno', on COVID policing and dance culture, all re-start and re-frame their argument, and we lurch wonkily from '97 to 2024. I also found myself taking issue with his tastes: his casual assertion of the greatness of Leftism, Music for the Jilted Generation, the early Orbital while never seeming to have much to say about any actual jungle record. These are fairly minor complaints about a book that if I had time I'd be rereading already*; this is a book of social history, not music criticism, and it doesn't really damage his argument that he has more time for 'Chime' than for 'The Horn Track', the sample from which he seemingly fails to spot ... this is the complaint of someone even more a bedroom raver than the author at hand, mind: and I actually really quite liked Gillett's occasional self-insertion into the narrative as a figure of White Man Having Bad Time. He was at the same Glastonbury I was at, I think, Orbital's big limp comeback: he was taking a dud pill while I, probably half a mile away, still in hearing range of their set, was having an anti-climactic sexual encounter in a tent.

*(I even started a Spotify playlist of material from the book and around it, because Spotify's increasingly moribund search function didn't show me the author's official one ... mine, if I ever finish it, obviously, will be better ...)

[Charlie Cottrell · Rating 3 out of 5]

want to start by saying this book is great for the most part. fascinating and articulate, it does an accomplished job of traversing the roots of uk dance music. however! I feel like the pretty large portion dedicated to sneering at the likes of boiler room is given far more airtime than is necessary. BR is the product of a perfect storm and *obviously* there are plenty of aspects to criticise (eg its private schoolboy ownership) but the platform has done way more ‘good’ than it’s given credit for here.

to be fair, party lines proves time and again that we *should* view dance music’s history through a cynical lense — but the relentless lambasting of platforms like BR is often misdirected and heavyhanded. so much space is dedicated to the topic; so it then feel really disingenuous to later reference a yung singh boiler room set as one of the scene’s most celebrated moments in recent years, with a huge and positive impact on reviving british asian dance music. following this with a vicious dig - suggesting this was a rare show of BR’s “intermittent ability to engage positively” with dance music - is properly tedious and entirely partisan.

pining for the old days is fine and normal, but there are still loads of great things happening in UK dance music and it’s facetious to suggest that everything we now consume on the dancefloor can only ever be an ultra-commodified ‘product’ sold in the name of business techno capitalism. and to suggest readers’ “understanding of the sonic possibilities of the club” won’t “expand” or be “challenged” because everyone can mix really well on really good soundsystems is utter gatekeepery b*llocks im afraid.

tl;dr: the first 2/3 of this book are excellent. the final 1/3 is joyless.

[Louie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Class. Not quite a 5/5 because the title of the book is the making of modern Britain but the author rarely mentions anywhere north of Manchester.

Gillett expertly shows how Thatchers defeat of the miners and the ensuing decade of the Acid House revolution leading up the 1994 Criminal Justice Act has not only fundamentally changed British society but also didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

Highlighting the depoliticisation, commercialisation and commodification of dance music over the last 30 years, Gillett reminds us why dance music still matters, why nostalgia for the 90s is at times harmful to the future of dance music and why the kids are alright. Chapters on contemporary clubbing and the struggles of black music/musicians are great.

Can’t beat the slagging he gives the Sub Club and its aristocratic owners who crowd funded to save the club from its owners parents development. People make Glasgow eh.

And loved the last page of the book quoting Mark Fisher.

‘“Fisher describes UK dance music - via a quote from Fredric Jameson - as a’baroque sunburst’ breaking into our reality from some other world, reminding us ‘that Utopia exists and that other systems, other spaces are possible.’ I stand at back of the dance floor, watching the past, present and future dance with each other, coloured lights playing over my face. I experience precisely that same glimpse of some alternative social structure that so many before me have seen and, with luck, many more are still to discover. It feels tantalisingly, euphorically real.’

[Jack Dryden · Rating 3 out of 5]

Most of the time this book is really interesting and has an in-depth analysis of dance music culture. The chapters about british youth reaction to the politics and attitudes of the era are really interesting, same goes for the commentary on oppressed groups and the on going greed in dance music.

But then other times this book can be so fucking dull. The writing style is just fucking boring sometimes. The book shines brightest when you can tell the writer is really letting it all out and being a bit more personal.

Anyway it’s a good book overall I’d recommend to anyway who is interested in British dance music

Gives you a great outlook and appreciation of the music and culture that I love

[Joshua · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 I very much enjoyed the subject of this book. The links between British youth culture, underserved and actively oppressed communities, and the music of this era is interesting and detailed throughout the book as is the depressing corporatisation of it (as with all things organic that can make money). My main issue with the book is the style of writing. The often pondering dissertation-esk style that subjects are discussed in keeps this from a higher rating for me. That said, if you are interested in this time period (mid 80s through 2010s) in popular British culture then this book could be of interest.

[Tristan Eagling · Rating 4 out of 5]

A handful of times in the late 90's I found myself in the back of cab , driving through the British countryside, listening for music, searching for a free party. The parties themselves were always an anti-climax. The thrill was knowing about them and finding them, being part of something safely removed from the mainstream.

Party line gives an intellectual and sociological retelling of the rise , fall and subsequent rise of dance music in the UK. There is so many fascinating events in it which passed me by, and some which are nostalgically familiar.

[George Bate · Rating 4 out of 5]

The first half is more sober account of the rise of UK dance music than most, and certainly a more rounded one than the myths and legends (surrounding a few unpleasant dinosaur cis white blokes) that have been handed down to us. It's not only a fantastic history, but also well linked to the wider political context, and the second half does a great job of bringing that account right up to the present day.

[Ethan Jones · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great read about dance music's relationship with politics. A little heavy-going at times but quality insight and depth.

Goes a bit earlier than most traditional histories of dance music, situating dance music within a wider context of dance as a protest act.

Some really good modern insight into the Boiler Room-isation of dance culture, too, which I'm yet to see explored much lately. Wicked stuff

[Sean Auraist · Rating 5 out of 5]

We chose this as one of the best-written nonfiction recent releases. https://auraist.substack.com/p/nonfic...

If you're picky about your prose, come and browse our other selections (subscription is free)! Criteria for our choices: https://auraist.substack.com/about

[Evie Manning · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved how it made me think of an alternate world - what could have happened if partying wasn’t policed and commercialised? How could society and its appreciation of young people be if society hadn’t criminalised them? Really demonstrated power struggle between young people and the authorities.

[John Griffiths · Rating 4 out of 5]

there is a lot of detail here and an interesting take on dance as a transgressive movement which is being constantly squashed by the establishment. I wasn't always sure about the objectivity on display but it was an illuminating read.

[Savannah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thoroughly enjoyed reading this book and would recommend to anyone with a love for electronic music. It explains the history so well and encapsulates how dance music and politics have been inherently intertwined. Amazing, easy to read deep dive and I learnt so much that I never did before.

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

Took me three months to get through it but I thought this book was brilliant! Gillett offers an incredibly thorough assessment of uk dance music past and present, thoughtfully engaging with a wide range of cultural artefacts, journalism, personal histories etc. throughout

[Jay · Rating 1 out of 5]

Self loathing book written through what feels like a narrow London lens.

Doesn’t really talk much about dance music and feels like it’s based on a lot of race baiting questionable research.

[Matt Fuller · Rating 2 out of 5]

Some interesting bits, some pretty weak bits.

[Professor Oliver C · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was sooo goood if you like dance music you should read it 100%

[Mackenzie Jamieson · Rating 2 out of 5]

DNF

Maybe I’m stupid but found this super boring to read, enjoyed the subject matter a lot which made it more disappointing but really struggled

[Alex Hodge · Rating 4 out of 5]

Brilliant history of the conflict between party politics and the UK dance music & rave scene over last 50 years. Thoroughly recommend. Guaranteed to make you want to dance.