20 October 2011

BEIRUT: It’s 4:30 a.m. on Sunday, Oct. 16, at an abandoned sugar factory in Zalka, and the We are Your Friends party shows no sign of slowing down. Well, most of the “tourists,” or people unfamiliar with Beirut’s underground music scene who stopped by to sample the open bar have left by now, befuddled by the throbbing beats, maniacal dancing and lack of bottle service.

Only the hard-core indie electronica/house devotees remain, split off into three rooms that each feature a different type of music. These loyal followers have been at it, limbs flailing, for hours as their favorite local DJs play. They will probably continue until way past sunrise, mindless of spilled liquor, sweaty neighbors or a dance floor that is fast becoming thick with sludge and fallen glowsticks.

It’s precisely this fan base that the minds behind the madness of We Are Your Friends were hoping to appeal to, according to Tim Winters, co-founder of We Run Beirut, one of three promotional and musical companies that organized the party.

“We don’t really promote that whole scene where you get a bottle and sit around looking cool,” says Winters with a laugh. “We’re more into the idea of getting into the pit, getting drunk, getting sweaty, losing your phone.”

Underground electronica music is taking hold across the globe, and Beirut is no exception. For those unfamiliar with this type of music, electronica – as well as its many offshoots, such as house, trance and dubstep – employs electronic music technology in its production and is usually categorized by a deep, synthesized bassline and sampled vocals. Much of it is experimental, however, making it difficult to classify or compartmentalize.

Richard Kahwagi of the Beirut Chicago Express or BCE, a DJ collective based in Beirut and the second organization behind We Are Your Friends, says that this music is different than anything you’ll hear on the radio.

“By definition, commercial music is something that is produced quickly and is meant to reach the mainstream,” he says. “It’s composed of standard beats and cheesy lines … Our music is a little more crafted, but still very friendly. We’re not having an intellectual debate here – music is music, and music is fun.”

The underground Beirut electronica/house scene started with different groups of friends sharing their favorite music, says Ronald Hajjar, a Lebanese DJ and co-founder of Beirut in the Mix, an event agency that also holds a weekly radio show on Mix FM and the third We Are Your Friends collaborator.

“From our side, it started as small parties where we gathered our university friends, and then we started the radio show, and then we began to get bigger DJs to play our parties,” says Hajjar. “It pretty much grew from there.”

Phil, or Fouad Zarzour, another local DJ who helped organize We Are Your Friends, says that the party, and the underground scene in general, was meant to cater to hardcore music lovers.

“You could say that there are two types of crowds in Lebanon,” says Zarzour. “I play at SkyBar … and I usually feel that my music isn’t appreciated by that crowd. They’re there to socialize … they don’t come for the music. It’s just a background for them. Our crowd is interested in music. They follow DJs, they’re going to a club or party and they know what to expect … They don’t go to these places to have a drink and a chat and leave.”

According to Tres Colacion, the other half of We Run Beirut, the underground music environment in Beirut is about developing an alternative to the rooftop club scene.

“That scene … is not reflective of what we do and it’s not reflective of our view of the city,” says Colacion. “What we do isn’t a reaction … this is not a counter-culture. I’m not saying I don’t want to be part of the masses. I’m just saying that I’m trying to develop another option.”

According to Kahwagi, the We Are Your Friends party is the pinnacle of what he and the others have been trying to accomplish.

“What we’re doing right now is a milestone in the scene,” he says.

There are challenges involved with throwing an event like We Are Your Friends, as well as simply creating the kind of environment where underground music can thrive, says Zarzour.

“Here, promoters prefer to bring a well-known RnB artist and easily get 2,000 or 3,000 people to come than throw an underground party and convince people to come because this music is special,” he says.

But the payoff is worth it, according to Colacion.

“We’ve tried to really help grow something where it’s not just about how much money we make at the end of the year,” he says. “We’re trying to work toward a point where someday, major artists will make Beirut a destination. We want to make it known that people here are intelligent and interested and up-to-date, and this isn’t just a place for David Guetta to come and cash out and play the same set every year. It’s a market for up-and-coming artists and there is some great local talent here.”

Asked about the association people often make between this type of music and drugs, everyone involved in We Are Your Friends is adamant that drugs are not the focus of their beloved scene or their party.

“We don’t want people to think that this is druggie music or a trashy, underground event,” says Zarzour. “You can find drugs everywhere in Lebanon. This is about the music.”

“That is the biggest drug – the music,” adds Winters. “Everybody coming to our party is addicted to the music. They might happen to be addicted to music and cocaine, or music and ecstasy. Everybody’s free to do their own thing. But the music is the common denominator of addiction.”

At the party, Ziad, one of the diehards who has lasted until the wee hours of the morning, shouts to make himself heard over the pulsating bass.

“This party’s really cool,” he yells. “I love the venue and the music. See, I came here not to listen to stuff I hear on the radio. I go to places like this to be educated.”

Copyright The Daily Star 2011.