On the outskirts of Los Angeles’ Arts District, the pulsing bass was an oasis to an otherwise deserted industrial cityscape. Surrounded by fences overlain with graffiti and barbed wire, Robbie Harol finds his way to an unassuming warehouse. A small crowd forms outside. Everyone was dressed in black.

Before he walks in he hands over a pair of clear plugs, “have these,” he says, “it’s gonna be loud.”

It was just a few minutes before midnight, early enough to where he could evade a cover. After grabbing a drink at the makeshift bar and browsing through tables of vendors selling coke spoons and sunglasses, he walks inside.

The drab, lifeless environment transforms into a surreal dreamscape, or hellscape depending on who you ask. The dark room was filled with a thick layer of fog, illuminated by strobing flashes of blue and red, and set to the tune of a deafening techno beat.

He was right. It was loud.

A hard techno DJ was making his LA debut from Germany. Giant, shirtless, ripped, and bald, he took the decks donning a leather harness and a Bane inspired mask. His music sounded exactly how you’d imagine.

Entranced by the aggressive industrial sound, everyone was sweaty from dancing. Then, the lights came back on. For the first time, people’s faces were visible. Tired, dazed, and pupils dilated, they hadn’t realized, but it was already six in the morning.

Before there was John Summit, or social media, or the risk of fentanyl laced pills, there was a small, but burgeoning grassroots rave scene beginning to develop in America. Introduced sometime around 1988, the early ravers planted the seeds for what was to come. The scene came to an abrupt halt in ‘94 due to an increased crackdown from law enforcement and the media. Following a year-and-a-half-long hiatus, raving came back in full force, and at the center of it all was Michael Tullberg, 55, who photographed and documented the era.

“The centers of rave culture were shifting out of the original origin cities like Detroit and Chicago–Chicago for house Detroit for techno–and it was moving West out here. And so there was a period of time for almost 10 years, in fact, that Los Angeles became the center of raving culture in this country,” he said.

In his photobook, “Dancefloor Thunderstorm: Home of the Free, Land of the Rave,” Tullberg classifies this era as the “Second Wave.” Lasting from 1996 to 2002, the Second Wave saw the establishment of massive festivals like Electric Daisy Carnival (EDC) and Nocturnal Wonderland, along with a robust underground scene where various warehouse parties and club nights began to take hold.

After growing disillusioned with the “elitist” atmosphere of the Beverly Hills nightlife where he got his start, Tullberg was focused on finding the next big thing to photograph, “that was the resurging rave scene.” He had heard about it in some magazines, but getting there would be a different challenge.

While there are now many resources for finding raves: social media, Resident Advisor, and Radiate, in the mid-90’s raves were like a “scavenger hunt,” designed to fly under the radar of law enforcement. Promoters disseminated flyers containing only a phone number at niche music stores, where ravers would call a hotline to receive directions, not to the venue, but to a checkpoint.

“They would have a guy or a couple of people there, and they would size you up, and if you looked like you were there for the right reasons, they would give you directions to the real party,” Tullberg described.

After jumping through all of these hoops, the photographer’s first two forays into raving–in a warehouse and an art gallery–were both immediately raided and shut down by the police. And while this may have disheartened some people, Tullberg was convinced that he was onto something big, and he quickly immersed himself into the world, establishing his legacy in documenting the scene.

“I understood immediately that [the rave scene] was a very tight knit, grassroots organization. It wasn't tied to any major media company or record label, or anything like that. I mean, it was underground in the best sense of the word,” he said, “It really was a case of us versus the world,” he said, “And when you're involved in an atmosphere like this–that brings people tighter together. You're all performing different roles in it, but you're all part of the same team.”

Determined to make a space for themselves, ravers threw parties anywhere from warehouses to the mountains to Joshua Tree to Venice Beach–“pretty much anywhere someone could stick a sound system away from the prying eyes of law enforcement.”

The scene would grow exponentially, with events like Nocturnal Wonderland 2000 bringing over 40,000 people–a record at the time for a single night American rave. Raving was entering a new chapter, welcoming a new audience, “the EDM generation,” just as the original ravers began to age out of the scene.

With clubs beginning to play rave music and massive shows and festivals capturing a mainstream audience, there was no longer a need for an underground scene. Instead, the underground would find a new role. A new scene. This time with techno as its driving force.

The Detroit-based subgenre that was once overlooked by mainstream EDM is having an unprecedented explosion in popularity. Characterized by its emphasis on rhythm over vocals or melodies, a repetitive 4x4 beat, and bass-heavy drums, techno has taken over the underground scene.

Marco Sgalbazzini, the chief growth officer and events director at 6AM Group, believes techno’s recent boom comes from people naturally exploring from mainstream EDM to more underground sounds.

“It’s like a funnel,” he said, “I think people, if they really dig deep enough, they end up in the house and techno world and find the sort of more underground sounds. And that's related to music, then you have the underground scene and the underground setting.”

Starting as an online blog in 2008, 6AM Group has become the leading organization behind L.A.’s underground techno renaissance. Through their warehouse shows, networking events, community workshops, and larger, festival-esque productions, 6AM Group has played a large role in cultivating a community around techno and revitalizing the underground rave scene.

With an emphasis on community over all else, through community workshops, networking events, and ambitious, overground festival-esque events like RE/FORM, 6AM Group and their various partners like Dirty Epic and Sgalbazzini’s Synthetik Minds helped usher in a new cast of players in the underground scene.

These parties often maintain similar aesthetics: Dark, open warehouses with minimal lasers set to the backdrop of a loud, omnipotent, almost aggressive techno soundscape that has come to define the underground.

“It’s like the soundtrack to the attitude of going out to the afters. That’s what we’re producing in the studio,” DJ Cyboy said.

Falling under the artist collective, Blind Tiger, Cyboy is a DJ and organizer for the Wednesday night dark techno afters, “MALFUNCTION.” Revered as a main player in the underground, Cyboy certainly looked the part. With his spiky bleached mohawk and monochromatic black leather outfit lined with silver studs, the DJ immediately sticks out.

As one of the first parties during lockdown, MALFUNCTION began after a bar owner and friend reached out to Cyboy about throwing an event. Having made his splash in the underground scene in 2019 after bringing techno to the DTLA club, 1720, sparking a new era for the venue that formerly had rock n roll events. The party started as an outdoor event, with tables spread out to follow lockdown protocols. But eventually, the organizers decided “fuck it” and brought the party indoors, staying later and later, and eventually running six days a week.

“It's definitely rebellious, because you know, you're breaking the rules by being out all night in a club. It's illegal. It's fun. It’s like “fire codes? No way!” And that feels badass and subversive and empowering because I can do what I want, and no one's gonna stop me,” Cyboy said.

Operating in a legal gray area by passing their events as private parties, the underground is united by a shared spirit of rebellion.

“If you are in a place in your life, or having a day where you feel like you want to let everything go and lose yourself to music. Forget your troubles and cleanse your soul with super loud beads and go all night. This is the place to do it. We built a place for that to happen,” Cyboy said.

Click to see the shows I attended