In some ways, techno gigs haven’t changed. They still take place in a dark, humid room, full of laser beams, flashing lights, and smoke machine haze. But nowadays, there’s a new aspect to techno events: hundreds of phones above head height, swaying to the music, all capturing the same image.

Believed to have been brought to Australian shores by British and European expats, techno music arrived in Melbourne in the late 1980s. Although initially most popular in Sydney, Melbourne was quick to follow. It wasn’t long before rave culture had spread throughout the city.

Some legal, some not, massive raves began to take place in the abandoned shipping warehouses of the Docklands. The reason young people were drawn to ’90s rave culture: the illegal nature of these parties, the sense of community and belonging, the drugs scene that accompanied the culture, and dancing until the sun rose, were the same reasons rave culture received heavy criticisms from police. In some cases, nightclubs were raided, raves were shutdown.

By the mid 2000s, rave culture and techno music entered a more quiet, less popular era. Today, techno is back. And in this recent surge in popularity, Melbourne which was Australia’s epicentre of techno music in the ’90s, even earning the city its own sub-genre of techno, Melbourne Shuffle, has remained the beating heart of Australia’s scene. Home to various dedicated techno nightclubs, music festivals and day parties, Melbourne is still the place to be for Australian techno fans.

However, over the past decade, techno has been re-shaped by the complex nature of social media. While social media has boosted its popularity and improved accessibility to the genre, it has also resulted in several challenges.

Techno fan and festival goer Ellie Jarratt says she was introduced to the genre via friends, but social media has allowed her to discover new artists. She’s been able to find new events and artists by either her friends sharing posts or appearing on her algorithm.

“It’s made techno become popular because people have been able to share it, and the artists have been able to reach a broader audience,” she tells upstart.

Brooke Powell is a Melbourne-based techno DJ and producer who has been creating techno music for over 18 years. He has witnessed first-hand how the scene has evolved and has unique insight into the history of techno music. His dad is also a techno DJ, and has been creating music for decades.

“When he was coming up, obviously there was no social media, it was all pretty much vinyl,” he tells upstart. “So, someone would only press, maybe, a hundred records. There was only a hundred people that could actually have that record.”

“But now with social media, somebody could make a track today, finish it and post it, throw it up on TikTok, and it could blow up from there. I think it’s just a lot more accessible to get yourself out there.”

There was a big shift in the Melbourne techno music space during the COVID-19 pandemic. As nightclubs and venues closed, young people yearned for connection and music. Forced to find a way to keep the techno scene alive, the community remained connected via virtual gigs. Through these online events, the scene not only kept its existing fan base engaged but also attracted a whole new wave of listeners who discovered the genre via social media and virtual events.

Due to Melbourne’s delayed end to lockdowns, many watched clips and listened to mixes from Europe and the UK, who were already out of lockdown and able to enjoy techno gigs in-person.

Powell says that Teletech, a UK based techno events brand, “nailed” their social media strategy during COVID.

“They really figured out what the algorithms are doing and how to work it and they really took off,” he says. “Obviously, Melbournian’s hadn’t been out for so long and everyone was itching to get out. These videos were coming up, and everyone was like techno gigs … these look amazing.”

While social media has increased the genres reach, it has also created new challenges for both techno artists and listeners.

Due to the rapid speed of short form videos shared on social media platforms, DJs require their music to grab the attention of the viewer in under 10-15 seconds. Powell says it was once normal for techno tracks to be around seven minutes long, whereas nowadays it’s not unusual for tracks to only be around three minutes. He says these tracks aren’t “created for the dance floor, they’re created for social media”. The mix of social media and techno has some downsides, too. Powell also regularly attends gigs of other DJs. He says he’ll often see people with their phones out, trying to record the set, instead of “just being in the moment and enjoying it”.

“I think there’s a negative and positive effect from social media, a lot of artists get really popular from people posting their videos of their gigs but at the same time, you’re not really enjoying the event if you’re just videoing it,” he says.

The ongoing relationship between the Melbourne techno music scene and social media is multi-dimensional. Powell says that while social media has increased the popularity of the genre, while diluting the ‘human’ element that was once central to the scene.

“It’s similar to everything, right?” he says. “There’s going to be negatives and there’s going to be positives.”

“I can say that, from an artist perspective … I wish these people would just enjoy what’s happening, but then your like, well, those videos really helped me push out what I’m doing on social media. It’s almost counterintuitive for me to say that, but I kind of need those videos.”

Article: Amy Ditcham is a third-year Media and Communications (Journalism) student at La Trobe University. You can follow her on X @amyditcham_

Photo: supplied by Ella Zammit.