Protoculture’s story is one of perseverance and elevation. After headlining festivals on the local psytrance scene each season, the Cape Town-based DJ/Producer continued his reign on to super clubs in London, Tokyo, Sau Paulo and Moscow. one small seed caught up with him at his home and at Cape Town’s own super club, Trinity.
 
 

| Elektronik Dialogues | Protoculture: the interview from one small seed on Vimeo.

 

 
Nate Raubenheimer aka Protoculture jumps right in, explaining his namesake and how he found his calling into the electronic scene – which quickly evolved after meeting likeminded individuals whilst studying audio engineering at City Varsity. After doing three albums with Nano Records, Protoculture spent nine years focussing on psytrance. He is by no means a stranger to the scene. As a DJ/producer, Protoculture explains the symbiotic relationship between the two and how they feed off each other, before admitting that his first love would have to be working in the studio.
 

I found after years of doing this, that you need to DJ to know what works in the studio, and you need to be in the studio to have music to play as a DJ

Protoculture feels that there shouldn’t be any boundaries concerning genre, and continues to produce beats and rhythms that cater to the EDM (electronic dance music) scene. ‘The scene that has pushed the likes of Goldfish and Black Coffee has got a healthy future,’ says Protoculture who at the same time worries that the scene might expand and become too mainstream.
 

There’s nothing wrong with mainstream, but the more it becomes popular the more people jump on the band wagon, the more producers you get which are not generally very good. And so a lot of the music becomes diluted after a while

With the evident growth in electronic culture, let’s hope that the scene pays homage to the greats that started the uprising. Protoculture is, and should remain a household name. Vote for him on the top 100 lists of DJ’s at DJ Mag.com
 

Images by : Deborah Roussouw

 
 

It was hot outside and the beautiful 20-something’s that made up most of the crowd were not ashamed to show off their skin. The bottle store does not have as many six packs as were exposed on shirtless guys this weekend. The woman all rocked flat stomachs and sun-kissed skin. It was a spectacle: slightly intimidating for the lesser-confident wanderers. A man asked a couple that walked by him, ‘can I just kiss one, or both, of you?’ His friends chuckled and the couple smiled. There were many gorgeous individuals at Love & Light.

 
The event was only a 40 minute drive from Cape Town city center and, being only one day, would leave plenty of time for indoor Sunday-recovery time. After parking it was a mere stones’ throw, maybe an arrow’s launch walk to the music. The bass thumped in our insides as we approached. It was noon and we had considered ourselves the early birds throughout the drive. This was not the case. The music, the grooves and the positive vibrations were all in full swing when we arrived. The name of the game was mellowness and self expression, the metaphorical game. Like most trance parties, this party was void of any fist fights; that would have been totally out of place. Instead we encountered men and women alike grooving out as if no one was watching. The people, the artists were living in the moment. Dance moves carried on the waves of the beats, infecting most of the crowd, creating a distinct, shared harmony. Some swam and others grooved in the shade.

A partially enclosed tent and nearby trees protected the audience from the sun. The sweat of the crowd did not infect us; well placed misters calmed our nerves and cooled our foreheads. There was nothing to do at the Love and Light festival besides soak up beats, the rays an all the feel-good energy. The first DJ we saw performing, The Fog Show, rocked out with a live violinist. After that, Lox chilled it with his dreadlocks and attuned reading of the crowd. Each successive performer built up the energy by a gigabyte; each read our emotions.
 

Felguk – Do You Like Bass (Neelix Rmx) by neelix

After time on our feet and the knowledge that this 10-hour event, not including the afterparty that was hosted at Trinity, was a marathon and not a sprint we headed to the reservoir, separated from the stage by brambles. There we encountered floating dolphins, blow-up beach balls and warm but refreshing water. Speakers pumped next to the water, making the swimming game part of the festival action. If one needed a moment of silence all you needed to do was hold your breath and take a dunk. A lifeguard was on duty, or at least someone sporting a ‘Lifegaurd’ tee.
 

Symphonix DJ Set by Symphonix

Frequent trips to the car to ‘stay hydrated’ kept my buzz going. In addition, Red Bull had a tent and there were two full service bars, one on the water’s edge, the other under the tent near the stage, at our disposal. All the vibes were good. A pretty blonde waved to the swimmers from the window of a cop car that drove up into my periphery. They had kindly given her a ride, sparing her the thirty second stroll. She jumped off the police truck and joined the party. The cops had no one to bust that I could see. Who needs fear or confrontation when there is love and light? Pardon the cliché.
 


 
Neelix played a thumping set that I don’t think the crowd responded perfectly well to. But Connecto got everyone going again and shade begun to arch onto the scene. Overall the festival was a success, liberating and filled to the brim with eye candy. Symphonix tore it up and unfortunately I didn’t last to see Killer Robot. It had been a long day.
 



 
Photos: Paul Ward
www.diaryofward.com
 
Words: Jason Shark

Psy-trance parties are time for Sunny Shenanigans and messy celebrations; electronic rendezvous in the hills and  under the stars. Sublime reminding you ‘what you got’, spliff and the window rolled down so your arm can ride the current and your skin can feel alive.

There exists an uncanny camaraderie at the trance parties. A family feeling shared between a subculture that carries on their 9-5 existence in elusive anonymity, only to rekindle a few months later in a hellish storm of electronic joy. They’re an intrepid group, relentless in their carnivalesque voyage. Time dissolves in to colourful speckles, which you end up taking in two. But it’s not even about the drugs, or the booze. Hooking up, or going large. Although, that’s swell and it’s all part of it. It’s about the music. Period. There is no room for pretensions or coherency. Fuck expectations and your second-guessing.

As dawn breaks and sunnies come on, the energy changes, refuelling and transforming the crowd. You wash the dust off your face with a bottle of water, and then down the rest. You say hello to the mountains, the DJ and your new friends; all strangely familiar now in the natural light. Nostalgia comes in glitchy waves, amplified by the DJ and the theatrical crowd. Frequencies of breaks, electro, psy-trance, dub step and all that jazz carry you through the hours from Friday to Sunday. Vortex, Earthdance, Alien Safari, Groovy Troopers, Origin, The Village… they’re all a short, explosive whirlwind of smiles, sounds and good times.

You leave feeling slightly bewildered and hesitant to drive back to normality. Not sure where or what that is, and if you even have the petrol to get there. It reminds me of the last scene in The Beach, where Di Caprio discovers the unexpected electronic-present in his mailbox. You have Mail. The photo that captured it all. They all knew words couldn’t do it justice. When you experience the same, you look around the room of strangers, smiling like you have a little secret. Knowing you were a part of something they were not.

Or maybe they were, you can’t really remember? The details aren’t important.

words: sarah claire picton, photos: Scott Rennie