At the beginning of the summer of 2014, veteran techno DJ, producer and grade-A smack-talker Seth Troxler penned an

Op-Ed piece for Thump (the dance music arm of Vice Media) that eloquently described the current state of dance music festivals as “concert(s) of cunts.”

The thrust of Troxler’s statement criticized the instant-gratifying nature of today’s giant EDM events, with their newly-formulated performance rituals. To start, there are the superstar DJs, eager-to-please showmen who leap up and down onstage, waving their arms in the air to further goad on the already-enthusiastic audience. One notorious entertainer, Los Angeles DJ Steve Aoki, takes things to an extreme—jumping on trampolines, riding inflatable rafts across the crowd, and tossing cakes at kids who press up to the stage in the hope of getting frosted.

These fans, the youngest and lowest common denominator of generation EDM, care little about the community and even less about the music. They are there for the experience, for the excitement. They dress to the extreme, in colorful costumes or, inversely, wear almost nothing at all. To them, EDM is hardly a music genre, although they are thrilled to sing along to the same hook-laden pop chorus repeatedly throughout the course of a days-long event. They are there for the eye-popping light shows and multi-storied set pieces, for the interaction with their own kind, whether a sexual hook-up or a bro bonding moment. They are there for the readily-available drugs that enhance the entire experience. They are there for the party, for the happening. And they are, more often than not, unapologetic about it.

These current customs stand in stark contrast to the time-tested (if often idealized) aesthetic of decades-old house music culture: its focus on the DJ as a curator of undiscovered music gems; its cult of trainspotters eager to out-do one another in their knowledge of the mysterious rhythms; its darkened warehouse-like venues full of faceless fans dancing through fake fog and strobes—dressed, not to impress, but to sweat through long hours on the dance floor. Yes the drugs are still present (they are present in all recreational activities), as is the implicit desire to connect with those equally enthralled with the clubbing experience. What differs most is the connection with the past. Clubbing started as an alternative for those alienated by mainstream culture—not, as with the case of EDM festivals, where people amass because it is mainstream culture.