Led by a panel of experts including Phil Hartnoll from rave pioneers Orbital, tonight’s show is an antiques roadshow for the rave scene. Artefacts are brought up to be examined, their value discussed and assessed alongside tales of personal experiences and connections. The gloomy environs of the Green Door Store are packed with old and new ravers, partly drawn by the celeb kudos of Hartnoll but also by a taste of the community and love that the original late-eighties movement represented.
For anyone familiar with the BBC’s Antiques Roadshow, imagine the segment where someone brings some paraphernalia from the war that, although holds great sentimental value for the owner, will probably not be worth much in today’s market. Whereas the TV show is all about how much money can be made, tonight’s roadshow is solely about the stories behind the pieces.
The whole enterprise is part of an initiative by University of Sussex and the Museum of Youth Culture to create a Post-Rave Britain archive, documenting the ephemera and oral history of that time. Attendees were invited to contribute their own objects. In the end there were five or six guests on stage, mostly talking about the objects from their wild raving youths. Lucy Robinson from the University of Sussex is an insightful interviewer, bringing a sense that these were stories that needed to be told, and an important part of a time in our political history that very much resonates with the current climate.
The concept of “Post-Rave Britain” is maybe slightly problematic because it suggests that this is a dead movement, whereas sound system culture is very much alive and is being adopted by a younger generation in need of an independent societal movement that sidesteps exorbitant admission fees and drink prices. Fresh-faced history students from Sussex, who have most likely never been to a rave, wear smiley-faced t-shirts and implore the elder ravers to scan a QR code to do a survey. It’s very much rave culture as history.
But as a nostalgia-fest it’s a delight. Hartnoll reminisces with the guests about squat parties and sound systems. As the chief expert he values everything as “priceless”, apart from a 3D-printed mini bluetooth sound system which are being sold in the foyer for £100. The audience hums with recognition as stories are told. There’s an inkling of a sense of community deeply missed my many present, a warmth felt even after the event has finished that conveys the importance of the archive’s project. It has the feel of a project in its infancy, with a slim running time that could do with a bit more filling out, but as a format it’s a real winner.
Reviewed on 8 May 2025