The electronic music scene’s spatial milieu
How space and place influence the formation of electronic music scenes –
a comparison of the electronic music industries of Berlin and Amsterdam
Research Master Urban Studies
Hade Dorst – 5921791
hadedorst@gmail.com
2 Abstract
Music industries draw on the identity of their locations, and thrive under certain spatial conditions – or so it is hypothesized in this article. An overview is presented of the spatial conditions most beneficial for a flourishing electronic music industry, followed by a qualitative exploration of the development of two of the industry’s epicentres, Berlin and Amsterdam. It is shown that factors such as affordable spaces for music production, the existence of distinctive locations, affordability of living costs, and the density and type of actors in the scene have a significant impact on the structure of the electronic music scene. In Berlin, due to an abundance of vacant spaces and a lack of (enforcement of) regulation after the fall of the wall, a world-renowned club scene has emerged. A stricter enforcement of regulation and a shortage of inner-city space for creative activity in Amsterdam have resulted in a music scene where festivals and promoters predominate.
Keywords
economic geography, electronic music industry, music scenes, Berlin, Amsterdam
Introduction
The origins of many music genres can be related back to particular places, and in turn several cities are known to foster clusters of certain strands of the music industry (Lovering, 1998; Johansson and Bell, 2012). This also holds for electronic music; although the origins of techno and house can be traced back to Detroit and Chicago respectively, these genres matured in Germany and the Netherlands, especially in their capitals Berlin and Amsterdam. But what made these cities such suitable breeding grounds?
Cultural industries1 are increasingly seen as one of the main driving forces behind the prosperity of urban areas (Scott, 2000). For their part, these industries draw on the cultural identities of their location (Currid, 2007). Cultural industries mostly reside in urban areas (Scott, 2000). Here, with a density and wide variety of people, chances of a creative atmosphere and demand for cultural products are higher. In this article it is hypothesized that a cultural industry will thrive economically
1
The interchanged use of the concepts creative and cultural is somewhat vague. According to Krätke (2003), culture can mean two different things: a shared value system of a certain group of people on the one hand and a more functional definition of intellectual, artistic and symbolic expressions of social life on the other. It seems the confusion or interchangeability with creativity stems from the latter definition. However, this definition is more useful when it comes to cultural production. Cultural production is, of course, creative, but it is often not the result of inputs from a single actor, but rather of multiple actors influenced through culture (Becker, 1976; Scott, 2000). For the sake of clarity, I refer to the cultural industries instead of the creative industries.
3 when certain spatial conditions are met. This hypothesis is applied to the electronic music industry. What exactly is it in urban areas that steers the development of a music industry scene? Does such an industry have certain spatial ‘needs’? These questions lead to the following ones, which are central to this article: Which spatial conditions are crucial for the development of a successful electronic music industry, and to what extent can differences in these conditions explain the divergent trajectories of the scenes in Berlin and Amsterdam?
The music industry is a particularly precarious industry, where both productivity and demand, and thus revenue and income, are uncertain (Bader and Scharenberg, 2010; Power and Hallencreutz, 2002). Lack of affordable space for living, meeting and working can affect the entrepreneurial and financial capacity of actors in this industry (Hracs et al., 2011). In addition, aesthetics and symbolism are valued highly (Scott, 1999; Caves, 2000). Distinctiveness and authenticity of urban surroundings, of actual living and working spaces and of actors in the scene itself are valued accordingly, and may influence the attractiveness of a city for actors involved (Watson et al., 2009; Bader and Scharenberg, 2010). The form these types of spatial requirements have taken and their influences on the structure of the electronic music industry scenes in Berlin and Amsterdam will be analyzed in this article.
According to music fans worldwide, Berlin is the ‘capital’ of techno and electronic music (Rapp, 2009; Kühn, 2011). In the Netherlands, Amsterdam’s club and festival circuit is attracting an ever widening audience from outside the city’s borders, but its local scene seems to be disconnected from the successfully exported Dutch dance music industry (Van Bergen, 2013; Krynen and Remmerswaal, 2014). The spatial milieus for music production in these two cities thus serve as interesting sites for this analysis.2
In the light of this research, the similarity between Berlin and Amsterdam lies in the type of industry they harbour. Therefore, the electronic music industry’s general requirements in relation to its urban environment will first be outlined. This forms the basis of further analysis, a comparison of the development trajectories of both electronic music scenes and an assessment of the urban conditions that made these scenes prosper. The analysis is based on secondary literature on both scenes, such as books, newspaper and music magazine articles and interviews, as well as observations. It is further supplemented with interviews with various actors in both scenes. With this qualitative, comparative approach I hope to shed new light on what it is in the urban realm that makes this relatively new cultural industry – this year several festivities in both Germany and the Netherlands have marked the 25th anniversary of electronic (dance) music – develop and thrive.
2
Although the differentiation of dominant music styles and genres in both scenes is an interesting topic, it is outside the scope of this article, as the article focuses on the spatial dynamics of the electronic music scene´s in general.
4
The electronic music scene’s spatial requirements
The creative world of music production – encompassing the ‘social’ and the ‘economic’ – is often called a ‘scene’, described by Florida and Jackson (2010) as a geographical concentration of artistic and business talents – including producers, engineers, artists but also audiences – meeting each other across social networks and physical spaces, hereby producing music. This definition shows similarities with Becker’s (1976: 703) conception of ‘art worlds’; creative worlds consisting of ‘the people and organizations who produce those events and objects that world defines as art’, where art is the result of coordinated activities, made possible by shared conventions about the manner in which this art is produced and about its quality. These musical art worlds, further referred to as scenes, are the main focus of analysis in this article.
Several properties distinguish the (electronic) music industry from other cultural scenes. In this section I will outline these attributes, connecting the properties and peculiarities of the music production process to its requirements in relation to its spatial context. An overview of the distinctive properties of the electronic music industry that substantiate its spatial requirements forms the point of departure. Naturally, these different factors are all intertwined to a certain degree. For the sake of clarity, I have nevertheless attempted to disentangle these characteristics, and defined three main factors essential for determining the electronic music industry’s spatial requirements: space for creativity, affordability of living and the scene’s creative atmosphere. These factors will each be elaborated upon in the following section.
Space for creativity
Creativity is generally not an individual characteristic; it thrives in communities, group culture and scenes (Becker, 1974; Bader and Scharenberg, 2010). Personal participation in and collective reception of music, as well as the feeling of belonging to a certain lifestyle, are valued highly by all involved in the music scene (Meyer, 1998). Clusters can evolve around the success of certain music genres, prominent examples being Detroit’s Motown, country in Nashville and the Manchester ‘indie’ scene (Halfacree and Kitchin, 1996; Florida and Jackson, 2010). Places such as bars, clubs and music events are of importance for this creativity to be expressed, and for social connections to be made and sustained (Currid, 2007; Fraser, 2012). These characteristics, in combination with the high mobility of musicians and DJs, result in the functioning of clubs as the main meeting places and locations for the exchange and promotion of styles and music (Denk and Von Thülen, 2012; Fraser, 2012).
As authenticity, style and exclusivity are treasured, original, distinctive locations for venues and events as well as for the origins of music productions contribute to the ‘branding’ of the music and appeal to subcultures and their preferences (Watson et al., 2009; Hracs et al., 2011). Actors in
5 the electronic music scene are regularly in search of distinctive, ‘abandoned’ (former industrial) sites for parties, festivals and club nights, as these add to the value of the music experience (Watson et al., 2009; Bader and Scharenberg, 2010).
Artists – often with little to spend, as will be further outlined under the next heading – can mostly only afford living in the cheaper living quarters of the city (Hracs et al., 2011). The availability of space is an important (re)location incentive (Watson et al, 2009). Gentrification dynamics, and creatives on the search for available space, affordability of housing, and what is ‘in fashion’, result in a continuous relocation of the scene through the city (Currid, 2007; Watson et al., 2009; see also Ley, 2003 on the role of artists and creatives in gentrification processes).
In summary, clubs, bars and other types of meeting places are needed to sustain a lively social and cultural scene. The electronic music scene in particular prefers distinctive and ‘abandoned’ sites for music events. To be attractive for these events as well as for the people participating in them, a city needs to have enough space(s) available.
Affordability
The demand for and success of cultural products are characterized by uncertainty (Caves, 2000). Songs hardly differ in price, but prices of concert and club tickets vary with a musician’s popularity, venue size and reputation, among others; meanwhile demand for music products is a matter of style and fashions – and therefore highly unpredictable. In addition, Caves (2000: 3) states that ‘creative workers care about their product’. Creatives tend to consider their own values and tastes and those of their peers more important than those of potential customers, and economic value is not necessarily prioritized. This also applies to the music industry. Productivity varies and profit is in general quite low, resulting, as stated earlier, in a low and unsteady flow of income for musicians, producers and technicians working in the music industry. Due to this unpredictability and instability of demand and supply, and therefore revenue, musical production is a high-risk venture (Bader and Scharenberg, 2010; Hracs et al., 2011).
Inexpensive housing, in relative proximity – because of transport costs – to work and meeting places, is a necessary condition for a city to provide an affordable living environment for creatives, and indeed for those working in a precarious industry such as the electronic music industry (Ley, 2003; Currid, 2007; Hracs et al., 2011).
Audience, actors in the scene and a creative atmosphere
A music recording is easily replicated and reproduced. Developments in technology of production and distribution – for instance the invention of the mp3 format (Leyshon, 2001) – have made the music industry less tied to (central) location(s) and less dependent on proximity to audiences and other actors in the industry (Hracs et al., 2011). Audiences do not necessarily need to be close to
6 where the music is produced. But in the case of electronic music, clubs and music events take up a central role in the production, innovation and distribution of music, and large audiences are needed for these to be economically viable. The presence of a dense, lively cultural scene and an appreciative audience for electronic music provide the industry with a more solid base in light of its overall financial precariousness (Watson et al, 2009).
In all cultural industries names of individuals or brands may add value to a product (Caves, 2000). These individuals and brands can also function as first movers and create spin-offs, attracting new talent and reinforcing the vitality of an industrial cluster. In the electronic music scene, local taste makers and important gate-keepers, such as bloggers, radio DJs, club promoters and magazines, form a vital part of the industry (Currid, 2007; Hracs et al., 2011). The knowledge necessary for creating economically viable products – knowing what the audience wants to hear – is locally anchored in the musical (sub)cultures and networks they form (Kloosterman, 2005; Currid, 2007). This cultural scene thus creates a creative atmosphere where knowledge is ‘in the air’, and subsequently thrives on it (Currid, 2007: 73; see also Marshall’s 1980 work on the competitive advantage of a creative atmosphere). The social world comprising these different actors, based on the close proximity of one actor to another, is essential to the music industry (Currid, 2007).
An electronic music scene’s spatial needs
Three important local spatial requirements for the creative and economic viability of the electronic music industry have been outlined above: space for creativity, affordability of living and the scene’s creative atmosphere. The electronic music industry needs space for clubs, festivals and other meeting and work places, and especially distinctive locations are sought after. Individuals working in this precarious business require possibilities to keep their living costs low. Proximity to work and to one another, along with the affordability of housing and living, make a city more attractive for these creative workers. A diverse and dense cultural environment, where electronic music is in the ‘atmosphere’, along with the presence of an appreciative audience add to this.
Research design and methodology
By means of historical accounts of the development of the electronic music scenes in Berlin and Amsterdam, a comparison is made of those spatial conditions that proved to be essential in shaping the scenes as they are today. The use of (historical) narrative is central to these historical accounts, and underpins the qualitative nature of this comparative case study research. Flyvbjerg (2001) recognizes the narrative as a useful manner of analyzing how structural factors have influenced social phenomena, by using stories and accounts of actors in the case studied. This approach, in his view, works well for answering questions which are ‘concerned with both verstehen (understanding) and
7 erklӓren (explanation)’ (Flyvbjerg, 2001: 136, emphasis in original), such as the research questions central to this article.
The implication of this approach is that it is interpretative in nature. However, this does not imply that the case narratives are not built upon claims of validity. In addition, a triangulation of methods is used to attempt to avert one-sided story-telling.
This historical overview has been broadly based on relevant secondary literature – books and articles, supplemented with interviews with actors in both scenes3. A total of 25 interviews has been conducted, of which 13 in Berlin and 12 in Amsterdam. Recordings of a conference on electronic music in Berlin (BerMuDa) have been used as well, along with the researcher’s own participant observations of and experiences in both music scenes. The larger part of the respondents fulfilled various functions within their respective scene’s, and could therefore comment on the cases’ situations from different viewpoints. Many respondents, especially in Amsterdam, also had
knowledge of the other case and commented on it from their – thus already comparative – points of view.
The electronic music scenes of Berlin and Amsterdam
In the following section, the development trajectories of both scenes are outlined. As stated earlier, the narratives of these development trajectories form the foundations for a comparison between the most influential spatial dynamics in both scenes. In this comparison, the development of the Berlin and Amsterdam scenes will be analyzed in light of the three main spatial requirements derived from theory on this subject.
The soundtrack of unified Berlin
‘In Berlin, there is the opportunity to be successful. There are so many musicians, so many clubs, so many people who love music… so here I am.’ (Electronic music bookshop owner)
Berlin’s significant array of clubs, hosting various subgenres of electronic music, and the number of creatives working in this club culture are unparalleled in other European cities (Bader and Scharenberg, 2010; Kühn, 2011; Lange and Bürkner, 2013). The ‘Berlin sound’ was used to brand the city as ‘capital city of electronic sound and techno’ by the local government (Church, 2008; Lange and Bürkner, 2013: 156).
3
8 Berlin’s club industry emerged after its unification in 1989. Before, rock, punk and hip-hop dominated the music scene, and in the GDR electronic music could only be heard on the radio (Denk and Von Thülen, 2012). As soon as the wall fell, electronic music started to gain popularity in Berlin (Denk and Von Thülen, 2012). Record store Hard Wax started propagating techno and minimal music in Berlin, and did so with effect (Nye, 2013). In the early 1990s the first club, Tresor, opened its doors, and after this electronic music started to attract a larger crowd (Hegemann, 2009; Denk and Von Thülen, 2012).
In the decade after Berlin’s unification a lot of space was vacant and unregulated, especially in the former eastern part of the city. From the 1990s onwards, a ‘club-mile’ formed along the banks of the Spree, the city’s main river (Rapp, 2009: 30; Nye, 2013). Most of these clubbing spaces started either illegally or had leases for short periods of time, sometimes just two or three months. Many parties were thus only held for one night or weekend, and the club’s interiors were provisional (Rapp, 2009). Local authorities, busy rebuilding the city and adapting to political changes, had other priorities than regulating this new, to them mostly even unknown, nightlife culture. A former club owner, now booking agent, states:
‘[Opening a club] at that time was easy because of historical and political reasons. Especially in east Berlin there were a lot of empty spaces, because east German citizens did not want to live in the old buildings, with coal heating and stuff. So there were a lot of deserted places, and that was why it was so easy to squat. If you think of squatting nowadays it’s something very brutal, but then it was so smooth. Police was also easy to deal with. The GDR policeman all of a sudden became BRD policemen, and you could tell they were a bit insecure. They didn’t know the new law. They just got new uniforms. The places that I was running […] were both squats, and we would say: ‘this is a house bar’. For them that was ok. There was no question about safety or if you had an official letter.’
It was not the music per se that made the Berlin nightlife famous; it was the clubs and the parties creating an experience around the music (Rapp, 2009). The gay scene in Berlin was an important catalyst of this ‘otherworldly’ techno scene, as was the gaining popularity of the new drug ecstasy (Denk and Von Thülen, 2012). Another contributing factor was a strict door policy. By not letting just everyone enter, the ‘club’ remained a place for a selected group, that thus forged the feeling of authenticity and belonging to the scene (Rapp, 2009; Denk and Von Thülen, 2012). The most popular clubs in Berlin are still known for their long queues and the high chances of rejection at the door.
The club’s interior, as well as its visitors, are equally important as the music (Rapp, 2009). Berlin’s clubs frequently have one or two ‘regular’ dance floors, while the rest of the interior is made
9 up of hallways, smaller rooms, gardens and roof terraces furbished with strange, artful decorations, turning them into spaces of discovery.
The unique conditions of the city during these post-unification years were essential for the scene’s development, or, as Rapp (2009: 10) states: ‘[…] the extraordinary development which electronic music has seen in Berlin in recent years is inextricably tied to the specific conditions present in this city: without its economic decline, its low cost of living, its liberal authorities and its experienced party promoters who learned their trade in the post reunification chaos of the 1990s, this development wouldn’t have been possible’.
A more international outlook, tourism and professionalization
This new nightlife subculture happening in Berlin did not go by unnoticed. The club E-werk, one of Berlin’s largest clubs in the 1990s, hosted the MTV-awards in 1995, definitively pulling Berlin’s club scene from the underground into the limelight (Denk and Von Thülen, 2012). The different scenes of Germany’s cities became more intertwined. Influential music labels, producers and music magazines started to relocate to Berlin. Many international DJs and labels opted for the creative and relatively inexpensive character of Berlin, as well as its welcoming and stable electronic music community (Rapp, 2009; Nye, 2013). Several respondents – a former club owner and a DJ are quoted here – confirm this:
‘Berlin is more international now. It was funny, I was touring internationally for a couple of years, and from the mid-00s I started meeting all the people I met around the world here in Berlin. Because they all moved here.’
‘[All foreign DJs] want to play in a Berlin club. Some of them also move here. That’s probably why the music in Berlin has a really high quality in bookings and DJs.’
International techno fans know how to find Berlin as well; many languages can be heard in the club queues (Rapp, 2009; several respondents referred to this matter as well). This ‘Easyjet Set’ – an apt term coined by Tobias Rapp in Lost and Sound, Berlin, Techno and the Easyjet Set, 2009 – flies over with low-cost airlines from (mostly) other parts of Europe especially for certain Berlin clubs, just for the weekend (Rapp, 2009; Schneeberger, 2013). There are various reasons why Berlin is popular among tourists, one of them being the relatively low costs of stay (Schneeberger, 2013). The club scene is one of Berlin’s largest cultural attractions, and has proved to be a significant income generator for the city4 (Rapp, 2009; Lange and Bürkner, 2013).
4 M
10 The local scene is not overall thrilled by the international attention. According to some, Berlin is losing its originality to ‘outsiders’ (Hegemann, 2009; Denk and Von Thülen, 2012). As Turner (2012: 1) states, ‘profit-driven record labels and private concerns have taken hold of techno music […] and the party community has become more international and less insular’. Several respondents expressed this feeling as well. Many more, however, nuance this fear by pointing out the many possibilities of international attention for the growth of the scene, economically as well as in creative quality.
The local government is also starting to acknowledge not only the cultural benefits of this industry, but its economic value as well (Kretschmar and Grigutsch, 2007). In 2007, an estimate of 8,000 people were working in the electronic music industry, and the turnover generated by clubs in Berlin was totaling 185 million euro in 2013 (Kretschmar and Grigutsch, 2007; IBB, 2013). 20 per cent of the industry’s revenue is estimated to be brought in by tourism. However, the total spending of clubbers (on food, accommodation and transport for instance) and the clubs’ appeal to tourists are not accounted for in these calculations (Rapp, 2009).
Overall, the electronic music industry has professionalized. The professionalization of clubs and the creatives working in them was partly forced due to increasing rent prices, according to one respondent:
‘[In the early 1990s] everything was easier. The rent was very cheap, there were a lot of spaces in the city centre. We just opened [a bar/gallery], we partied twice a month, and from these parties we could pay the rent. Now it’s completely different. The rent is much more expensive, so if you rent a space you have to be much more involved, you have to have a business, you need to do a lot of events to make things work.’
Clubs are no longer provisional, and various music networks and associations have now established in Berlin (Projekt Zukunft, 2014). Club owners have long-term leases and business plans, and entrepreneurial and governmental investments in the city’s nightlife are much higher than twenty years ago (Rapp, 2009). The club scene in Berlin now consists of various professionalized, economically viable and internationally popular clubs, such as Berghain, Watergate, Salon zur Wilde Renate, Tresor and KaterHolzig, and a range of smaller clubs and bars: a total number of 300 clubs and live music venues is estimated (Lange and Bürkner, 2013).
Regulation
At the turn of the millennium, the local authorities’ grip on Berlin’s nightlife became tighter. Not only did clubs need to meet safety standards, their administration had to be in order as well. Bar staff needed to be licensed, and DJs could no longer be paid in cash – they had to start paying taxes (Denk
11 and Von Thülen, 2012). However, many unregulated spaces remained free for creatives with the help of an employee at the Berlin Mitte Housing Corporation, according to Ben de Biel (co-owner of several clubs in Berlin in the 1990s):
‘All of East-Berlin’s building plots were owned by der Kommunale Volksverwaltung, of which the Berlin Mitte Housing Corporation was a successor. [After the reunification of Germany] these plots were sold one by one. But every time our [illegal club] plot came up, [she] put it at the bottom of the pile again. She did so for every weird and creative undertaking in Berlin Mitte. […] she was the reason Mitte went through such an artistic development’ (Denk and Von Thülen, 2012: 321).
A representative of Berlin’s Club Commission describes the changes:
‘In former years, clubs just started illegally. When they got successful, they tried to get it legalized. Many clubs transformed like this. I don’t think you can start illegally anymore. You can do parties, maybe once or twice, but to really do business is not as easy as it used to be.’
Nevertheless, the relative ease with which Berlin’s government treats its nightlife is still praised by the majority of respondents, both for its freedom and for the incentives it creates for creative independence. In Berlin, enough space is available for creatives to realize their plans, and if these plans prove to be successful some financial backup from the local authorities might follow (Grievink and Van Odijk, 2013). Two respondents – a club owner and a representative of the Berlin Club Commission, respectively – comment on Berlin’s regulatory environment:
‘Berlin is like a universe in itself which is not comparable to any other German city. As soon as we get more conservative the club scene will vanish to wherever it’s more liberal. Berlin is the most liberal place in the whole world. If you know somewhere more liberal, where people have more freedom in clubs, where they can party longer, and with fewer restrictions, tell me, I would love to know where it is. But I’m serious, Berlin is politically the most liberal place. I don’t know where it’s possible to have 72hour parties with the silent cover of politics, where is it possible to use as much ‘things of joy’ without being controlled or oppressed by the police in terms of checking what’s going on.’
‘The German law is probably the same as in Amsterdam. But the city is just too poor to control everything, so that’s a good thing about the Berlin nightlife. They cannot send everyone to check all the clubs at night.’
12
A changing scene
Berlin’s cultural attractiveness has not been accompanied by general economic success, or at least not yet (Bader and Scharenberg, 2010; Grievink and Van Odijk, 2013). This is in line with the anti-commercialism expressed by many of the respondents, valuing authenticity and style over profit. One respondent reflected on the local ‘cultural currency’:
‘Berlin is in a very comfortable situation, because there are so many initiatives from people who are new here, for a couple of years, and who are full of energy, doing interesting, high reputation jobs for, well, 50 euro a night. The cultural currency is much higher.’
Nevertheless, tensions between this ‘authentic Berliner attitude’ and cultural commercialism along with stricter policies have intensified over the last decade (Brasser, 2013). One club owner expressed his views, shared by others in the industry, quite clearly:
‘When the city changes, if the prices go up, [to] a level that the creatives can’t afford, they will go to other, cheaper places. If this development continues, that’s dangerous for the creative scene and will also affect the club scene. There is a lot of foreign investment in Berlin’s buildings. […] capitalism will destroy this cultural scene, sooner or later...’
A move away from local towards international audiences and capital may thus be altering Berlin’s (electronic) music culture.
A lobby group proved to be necessary to represent nightlife industry entrepreneurs; a Club Commission was founded in 2000 (Club Commission, 2014). Many of Berlin’s clubs are still located along the Spree bank – a location undergoing fast gentrification, where large project developments are planned. Space for clubs in the city’s centre is becoming rarer. With the current economic stagnation and the city’s weakened finances, however, these development plans are uncertain and consequently the future of the clubs located there as well. The club Bar25, on which a documentary came out in 2012, recently closed its doors after years of insecurity about its future (Rapp, 2009). More clubs face these dangers due to rapid gentrification of Berlin’s inner-city area (Kretschmar and Grigutsch, 2007). The director of the Music Board articulates the feelings of the local music scene:
‘This gentrification… we’ve got a lot of places where people are doing creative work. But after a while they have to go. There are big changes in Berlin right now, and the big questions is, what will the city be like in ten years? Will we have enough cool places, and a cool music scene? Where is it going?’
13 The increasing gentrification of Berlin’s inner-city areas and its consequences for Berlin’s creatives is one of the main fears expressed by respondents. They feel they are slowly pushed to the outer areas of the city, therewith losing their connection to the scene and the city.
Berlin’s electronic music milieu
Overall, the past two decades space has become scarcer and more expensive, resulting in an increased pressure on living costs. The number of musicians and other creatives5 working in the industry ensures a supply greater than demand, and therefore relatively low wages. But there still is a lot of space in the city for the scene to relocate to, in search of affordable housing and a creative atmosphere, according to one music label employee:
‘In Berlin we have the big advantage that we have enough space and we have enough neighbourhoods to shift the scene from one spot to another. We have this shift every two, three, five or ten years.’
The coming together of the emergence of a new music culture and a relatively large quantity of unregulated inner-city space after the fall of the Berlin wall is unique. A lively and densely populated cultural scene, along with a sufficient – although decreasing – amount of slack space for industry actors to work and live on an affordable level without too much interference of local authorities, provided the foundations for Berlin to evolve into one of electronic music culture’s most important centres, a status it still retains to this day.
Dutch house and Amsterdam’s local scene
In the late 1980s, house music emerged in the Netherlands, with Amsterdam as its epicentre. In 1987, club RoXY, focusing on this new music genre, opened its doors, and in the early 1990s club iT joined the ranks (Van Veen, 2013b). In 1988 pioneer house DJ Eddy de Clerq played house music for an almost empty RoXY, but after the success of illegal warehouse parties elsewhere in the city this situation changed, and the public found its way to the clubs that same year (Kuyper, 2013). Nowadays the Dutch dance sound is making headway abroad, and the dance music industry is identified as an important contributor to the Dutch creative industries, which have been labelled as one of the nine most important sectors of the Dutch economy (Den Butter et al., 2014). However, this exported Dutch house industry is disconnected from Amsterdam’s local scene.
An alternative scene arose as a reaction to the ‘dark 1980s’ when the Netherlands went through an economic crisis (Van Bergen, 2013; Van Veen, 2013a: 37). This scene listened to new wave music, in which electronic sounds were more frequently used – thus the doors were opened to
5
14 a new genre, house music. Although its origins lay in Chicago, Amsterdam provided a welcoming environment in the earlier stages of the emergence of the genre. In the 1970s and 1980s Amsterdam was (internationally) regarded as a free and tolerant city, especially due to media attention for squatter movements and the legality of (soft)drugs and prostitution. This image worked as a magnet for creatives from the rest of the Netherlands and beyond (Van Bergen, 2013).
The club scene revolving around house music was connected to drugs and fashion extravagancies. As DJ Jean states, ‘transvestites and criminals visited [the RoXY and iT]. People wore the craziest outfits, some were even naked. And no one cared’ (Bardoul, 2013: 1). DJ Eddy de Clerq, originally Belgian but drawn to the freedom of Amsterdam in the 1970s, started his own club, De Koer, influenced by his travels to New York. Its focal points were freedom and creativity – in music, décor and audience. A strict door policy was needed to guarantee an open minded and free spirited audience on the dance floor (Van Bergen, 2013). One of the regular visitors was Joost van Bellen – now one of Amsterdam’s most successful DJs and party organizers. He also praises the strange experiences in this early stage of Amsterdam’s clubbing scene: ‘very colourful, exiting and decadent’ (Van Bergen, 2013: 22).
In these initial stages of development of the house music scene in Amsterdam, clubs and illegal rave locations in the barracks at the city’s old harbour sites had carte blanche regarding party locations and drugs policy. The tolerant stance of the Dutch government influenced the development of the industry as a whole. When the music scene emerged, ecstasy was so new that it was not illegal yet, and later on the Dutch government’s approach was just to monitor (testing on-site was often possible, for instance) instead of prohibiting drug use at parties (Van Bergen, 2013).
Amsterdam’s DJs and party organizers were internationally oriented from the start, making trips to London, the United States, and Ibiza, and using their experiences and inspiration when returning home (Van Bergen, 2013). Amsterdam was not the only Dutch city where house music was played. In the 1990s, clubs opened and raves and festivals were organized in empty halls and warehouses all over the Netherlands. Cities such as Rotterdam, Eindhoven, Utrecht and Nijmegen also experienced a prospering nightlife (Van Bergen, 2013; Wijnstekers, 2013).
Professionalization and regulation
At the end of the 1990s, the popularity of drugs, and a consequential increase of health and safety issues, in Amsterdam’s nightlife gave reason for less tolerance from the authorities, with police raids and the (temporary) closing of several clubs as a result (Nabben, 2013). In addition, the city centre gradually upgraded, which led to the ‘forced’ relocation of many party locations (Van Bergen, 2013). Following the increasing popularity of the house genre, the authorities took notice of the economic success of some DJs and dance music organizations and started to enforce taxation. As
15 a consequence, actors in the industry were forced to organize themselves more professionally (Schram, 2013). The popularity of dance events declined in the early 2000s, due to increased regulation and rising inner-city housing prices: ‘restricted opening hours, rent hikes and increased policing are all serving to dampen the party spirit in the Dutch capital.’ (Kist, 2010: 1).
Dutch house export
Despite increased regulation and dampened party spirit in Amsterdam, the steps towards professionalization resulted in an efficiency and experience in organizing large scale events which turned out to be successful abroad. Allan Hardenberg, organizer of the Armin van Buuren solo show, states:
‘We had of course been working with a road map for years; you’ll learn that quick enough working with Dutch bureaucracy, every detail and every scenario has been prepared for. Then, when you go abroad, you’re actually over-prepared!’ (Van der Plas, 2013: 548)
As the first electronic act ever to play the Olympic opening ceremony, in Athens in 2004, DJ Tiësto reached about 3 million listeners. According to Van Bergen (2013), it is no coincidence that a Dutch DJ had been given this honour. Several Dutch dance organizations – for instance ID&T – have exported their party and festival formulas, and the Netherlands now plays a dominant role in the international market for trance, dance and house music (Van der Plas, 2013; Den Butter et al., 2014). DJs such as Tiësto, Armin van Buuren and Afrojack have been touring around the world and continue to head the favourites-lists of influential blogs and magazines (Van der Plas, 2013; Den Butter et al., 2014). In the slipstream of Dutch trance, ‘Dirty Dutch’, a house-meets-urban sound, proves to be successful in the United States. According to Coral (2013: 569): ‘for the first time in the history of pop music, the Dutch have taken a lead role [in the international popularization of house and dance music]’.
Of all Dutch cultural industries, the electronic music industry makes up a total of 7 per cent of the total added value. The number of jobs provided by this particular cultural industry is approximately 5 per cent of the total number of jobs6 in the Dutch cultural economy, and its annual revenue (leaving aside the hospitality branches involved) is estimated at 587 million euro (EVAR, 2012; Den Butter et al, 2014). Within the Netherlands, especially event organizations, DJs, producers and agencies benefit from the success of electronic music – clubs appear to lag behind (EVAR, 2012).
Conjointly with the aforementioned developments, the Amsterdam Dance Event – one of the few events where Amsterdam’s local scene and the international, commercial success of dance and
6
16 house music are (re)connected according to respondents – has become the world’s largest professional conference on electronic music (Hoorntje, 2013). At the initiative of the Dutch music copyright association, BUMA/STEMRA, the event started as a two day conference aimed at the business side of electronic music. Nowadays, more than 3000 international producers, labels and managers network their way through the scene for five consecutive days, and over 70 locations in Amsterdam host around 350 club nights (Hoorntje, 2013). According to several respondents, the event has become a prime location to strengthen contacts and networks, to sign deals and to get noticed for all involved in the electronic music industry.
But only a small minority of the Dutch ‘export DJs’ are from Amsterdam and nearly none of them are connected to the Amsterdam scene. Several respondents expressed the feeling that the internationally successful Dutch house industry and their Amsterdam scene are worlds apart.
The festival and promoter boom
Amsterdam’s festival market, however, has been flourishing the last few years (EVAR, 2012; Kooistra, 2013). Small, local organizations such as Dekmantel, Next Monday’s Hangover and Chateau Techno often work together on larger events. One respondent praises the local entrepreneurial milieu:
‘I do not think there is a place where more young people are doing business in the dance industry. Of course, there are many places where people are more creative, but the Dutch entrepreneurship… Everyone I know just starts something, a label, an agency, a festival. I think it’s because the facilities are so good. Getting your own tax number, becoming a freelancer, is not difficult at all.’
Due to the rise of the festival market, Amsterdam has returned, after a short dip, as the centre of the Dutch electronic music scene (Kooistra, 2013; Veilbrief and Van Veen, 2013). ‘Lover of festivals, dance and citizen of Amsterdam? You hardly have to leave the city at all in the summer. There is no place in the Netherlands where the supply is larger than in the Dutch capital […] Why is this the case? Above all else, Amsterdam’s well organized dance scene is both qualitatively and quantitatively better than elsewhere. […] An additional factor is the positive attitude of the city government towards permits for locations such as parks, natural areas, stadiums and old industrial areas’ (Kooistra, 2013: 510).
When organizing these festivals and other club nights, international contacts are frequently called upon. German techno and house DJs are especially sought after, and Berlin is seen as a best practice example for the clubbing world. In 2013, the Mayor of Amsterdam visited Berlin to see, among other things, how the city engages with its nightlife (Ogliastri, 2013). A few clubs in Amsterdam have been granted a 24-hour permit, and many clubs and festivals attempt to imitate the Berlin clubbing experience. Club Trouw appears to be at the frontier in this regard, with a free
17 spirited and arty profile. As in many in Berlin clubs, photography is prohibited inside the club, tickets are only sold at the door, and a stricter door policy is maintained in order to attract the ‘right’ crowd. However, the local nightlife culture seems hard to change. The no pre-sale ticket policy has recently been cancelled after many complaints by the club’s regular visitors and other clubs are not happy with a selective allowance of 24-hour permits because of unfair competition (Ogliastri, 2013; Veilbrief and Van Veen, 2013).
Compared to festivals, clubs experience more difficulty in remaining viable due to rent expenses, according to one respondent:
‘It’s typical for Amsterdam, all these organizations throwing parties at one-off locations. There is no space for an actual new club. The rents are too high, you would have to invest half a million in a location, and you have high rent expenditures every month. If you don’t sell out three nights a week, you don’t make it.’
When it comes to festivals supply appears to almost outweigh demand, but there is little space for all these festivals. Several respondents noted that finding space for events is the hardest part of their work. And in addition to a lack of space, strict regulations often pose a hindrance to the organization of festivals as well, according to several interviewees – an agency and label manager, also organizing several festivals, is quoted here:
‘We have a bizarre number of festivals in the Netherlands. But in my opinion, 95 per cent of them are tremendously boring. Everything is restricted. There is not enough slack space, literally, in terms of square meters, but also in rules and regulations to build cool things, and regarding safety and all that. These rules restrict you to be distinctive, and to be able to impress the audience.’
Promoters seem to have taken over from the clubs as key actors in Amsterdam’s nightlife. The festival fever is partly accountable for the decline of the number of clubs, a trend not only seen in Amsterdam but throughout the Netherlands as a whole (EVAR, 2012; Van Terphoven, 2012). One respondent outlines the change towards this promoter culture, and why it might threaten the club scene:
‘Early 1990s, there were a few clubs in Amsterdam, with fixed club nights. […] Around 2003 more organizations joined, and partying on location became more important. This was a turning point. A club was no longer a club, organizing its own nights, but promoters and organizations took over, filling the club nights with their own programming. Many clubs lost their identity because of this. […] Then the number of clubs decreased, and that has to do with the fact that bookers and managers prefer
18 festivals[…] which always have a bigger audience [then clubs do], which means a higher DJ fee. They are partly the problem of why there are so many festivals.’
As living costs are relatively high in Amsterdam, less people will be able to live off a DJ career (Kist, 2010). As stated by one respondent, this situation leads to a smaller reservoir of DJs to choose from for organizations and clubs, and in a market with so much demand for DJs to fill all the festival line-ups, this results in higher DJ fees for the ones that do enter the market:
‘DJs cost a lot of money. Booking artists in Amsterdam is just very hard. There is simply more demand [for DJs] than supply here, there are many promoter parties all bidding on the same artists.’
Amsterdam’s electronic music milieu
Over the past decades the Netherlands has emerged as a dance export country. Amsterdam’s scene is only marginally connected to the international success of trance and Dutch house DJs, but it nonetheless takes a prime position within the country’s electronic music industry, in terms of the number of events, the actors working in the scene and the audience size (Veilbrief and Van Veen, 2013). In recent years the local scene has started to adjust itself to this position, not in the least due to young, enthusiastic entrepreneurs organizing events and festivals with a large, knowledgeable audience to support them (Kooistra, 2013).
However, a lack of space in the inner city for clubs and work spaces, high housing costs and tight regulations regarding noise, safety and opening hours for clubs make it difficult for entrepreneurs to exploit thriving electronic music events and clubs, and for creatives to maintain a living on making music. These conditions lead to a situation in which only the successful survive, yielding a relatively smaller labour pool earning a higher income. Nonetheless, the high demand for electronic music over the past two decades still triggered a ‘typical Dutch entrepreneurialism’ (according to various respondents and Van Bergen, 2013: 127), resulting in the flourishing of party production companies in Amsterdam – which are not bound by fixed event locations – and the growth of the world’s largest network and showcase event in electronic music, the Amsterdam Dance Event.
The two scenes compared
Having described the electronic music scenes of Berlin and Amsterdam, we now turn to the comparison of the two cases. At the end of the 1980s and early 1990s, the electronic music scenes in Berlin and Amsterdam have both been beneficiaries of an atmosphere of tolerance for fashion and lifestyle extravagancies, a gay scene which adapted to the new electronic music genres quickly and
19 the – then new – party drug ecstasy. Now, both cities are home to a sizable, knowledgeable audience of electronic music fans, making these places fruitful business locations for electronic music entrepreneurs and musicians. Another similarity has been the presence of abundant (inner-city) space, and abandoned industrial sites for parties and clubs during the early years of development of both scenes. These factors initially attracted a similar crowd of free-spirited house and techno pioneers who provided a solid base for the further development of an electronic music subculture.
However, there are essential differences in the spatial conditions present in both cities, ultimately resulting in a different electronic music scene culture. In both cities the amount of inner-city space for this industry is decreasing, mostly due to gentrification of inner-inner-city neighbourhoods. As Amsterdam is a much smaller city than Berlin, the boundaries of its available space for noise and nightlife are tighter, and the spatial pressure on the city’s electronic music and club scene has increased more rapidly there. In Berlin, although there is some pressure from gentrification dynamics on club locations, clubs are still abundant. Compared to the Berlin club scene, the Amsterdam scene revolves around one-off parties and festivals much more.
Amsterdam’s club entrepreneurs face higher rent pressures, which partly provides an explanation for the predominance of festivals. Not only club entrepreneurs, but also many of Amsterdam’s electronic music scene actors face higher living costs pressures. One of the most striking differences influencing both scenes is the availability of space, and in line with this the affordability level of both cities. An European Commission publication on the quality of city life in European cities further underlines this dissimilarity, stating that only 7 per cent of Amsterdam’s citizens agreed that it was possible to find housing at a reasonable price in their city, whereas 51 per cent of Berlin’s citizens agreed to this same statement (European Commission, 2013). Both cities have experienced increasing costs of living over the last two decades, but, again, this level rose quicker in Amsterdam due to lack of space and affordable housing.
Professionalization in both scenes was partly forced by these increasing rent pressures – business had to be organized more efficient as actual profits became more of a necessity – and stricter regulation by local authorities, but this process started earlier in Amsterdam. In Berlin, the low costs of living still attract many creatives, willing and able to work for relatively low wages. In Amsterdam, it can be observed that working in the electronic music industry has to be accompanied by enough financial success to be able to keep businesses running and afford a living in the city. This partly explains a smaller labour pool of DJs and a smaller number of clubs in the city. Festival organization and music promotion, however, seem to be more profitable branches – as these are in abundance in Amsterdam. Nonetheless, Berlin’s electronic music scene has become more professional over the years as well, with several internationally renowned and economically viable clubs.
20 This brings us to a notable dissimilarity between both scenes. The electronic music scene of Amsterdam was, perhaps due to the smallness of the city and even the country, internationally oriented from the start. The Netherlands is now considered one of the main export countries in electronic (dance) music; an industry which has developed differently from Amsterdam’s scene, both in actors and genres, with the Amsterdam Dance Event as the only main connection between the two. In Berlin, import dominates the scene rather than export; the city has experienced a remarkable influx of electronic music industry workers and audiences. In this context, it is important to note that with the growing international success of Berlin’s scene, anti-commercialist and also anti-tourism feelings are surfacing, with many respondents expressing the fear of this scene becoming the victim of its own success.
A final interesting notion, one that resurfaces throughout the development of both scenes and clearly differs in both cities, is that of regulatory issues. It seems that regulation is relatively under-emphasized in literature on the spatial context of electronic music scenes; however, strict regulations regarding sound and safety – especially regarding drug use – can put a damper on the success of clubs, festivals and parties. In addition, locations can often only be used for clubs or parties if there is not much else going on in the area, or if there are no other developments planned for these sites. This effect can be observed early on in the development of the Amsterdam scene, where slack space both in inner-city areas as in regulation was restricted quite quickly. In Berlin this process has only started the last decade, which gave the scene more time and space to evolve. This has partly affected the organizational structure of the scene, where mostly clubs dominate. The lack of space and stricter regulations in Amsterdam have driven on a more quickly professionalizing electronic music industry there, with more eye for the business side of electronic music production.
Concluding remarks
The development trajectories of the electronic music scenes of Berlin and Amsterdam in relation to their urban milieus have been analyzed and compared. The analysis indicates that certain spatial conditions, such as the presence of abundant space, the affordability of living, and a dense creative scene can substantially influence the development of a scene’s structure. In Berlin, the abundance of slack space and initial – but still dominant – lack of enforcement of regulation have contributed to the presence of a significant number of clubs, staying open for days at an end. The affordability of the city attracted many creatives, living on a low income. Amsterdam’s lack of space and high housing prices forces electronic music industry workers to earn enough to sustain themselves, resulting in a smaller labour pool. It also leads to a relatively higher share of festival production- and promoter organizations which are not fixed to locations, and a smaller number of clubs.
21 A side note on the methods that underpin this research are in order. More extensive, and perhaps more quantitative, research on the local industry’s business models can be useful to paint a clearer picture of these tentative conclusions. Statistical data on both cities’ industries was not recent or detailed enough to be comparable. Especially in Amsterdam, more quantitative information on the city-level – number of clubs, festivals and electronic music organizations, and their revenue – might be helpful.
In addition, the importance of attention to regulatory issues has presented itself in the analysis of the development of both scenes. Not nearly enough attention is given to this socio-spatial condition and the way it affects the development of a cultural industry and the people it comprises. Another interesting notion that can be made based on the comparison of the two cases studies, is that the cultural values of a scene – such as the prioritization of commercial or idealistic interests – and the organizational culture of an industry seem to change due to spatial circumstances. Both issues need more extensive attention than has been granted here. I hope this article provides grounds for further investigation in these issues, especially as they can be of use for urban planners and politicians on the lookout for ways to accommodate creatives in their city.
22
References
Bader, I. & Scharenberg, A. (2010) The sound of Berlin: subculture and the global music industry. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 34(1), pp. 76-91.
Bardoul, F. (2013) Boek Dutch Dance is uit. [online] Available at: <http://universonline.nl/2013/09/26/boek-dutch-dance-is-uit/> [Accessed 19 June 2014].
Becker, H.S. (1974) Art as collective action. American Sociological Review, pp. 767-776.
Becker, H. S. (1976) Art worlds and social types. American Behavioral Scientist, 19(6), pp. 703-717.
Bergen, M. van (2013) Dutch Dance. Amsterdam: Xander Uitgevers.
Brasser, P. (2013) Bekende Berliners over hun geliefde stad [online] Available at: <http://3voor12.vpro.nl/lokaal/amsterdam/artikel/festival/ade/2013/berliner.html> [Accessed 29 April 2014].
Butter, F. den, Joustra, J. & Reijnders, A. (2014) De transactiekosteneconomie van de dance-industrie. ESB Governance 99(4679), pp. 116-119.
Caves, R.E. (2000) Creative industries: Contracts between art and commerce. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Church, T. (2008) Berlin: the electronic music commune. Beatport. [online] Available at: <http://news.beatport.com/blog/2008/06/16/berlin-the-electronic-music-commune/> [Accessed 16 June 2013].
Club Commission (2014) Das Netzwerk für Berliner Clubkultur [online] <http://www.clubcommission.de/dokumente/Ueber_uns.html> [Accessed 28 May 2014].
Coral, V. (2013) House of God. In: Terphoven, A. van, Veen, G. van, Mӧller, B. & Slagter, A. (2013) Mary Go Wild. Amsterdam: Maslow. pp. 561-571.
Currid, E. (2007) The Warhol economy: How fashion, art, and music drive New York City. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press.
Denk, F. & Von Thülen, S. (2012) Der Klang der Familie: Berlin, Techno und die Wende. Berlin: Suhrkamp.
European Commission (2013) Quality of life in cities. Luxembourg: Publications Office of the European Union
23 EVAR (2012) Dance-onomics; The economic significance of EDM for the Netherlands. Hoofddorp: EVAR Advisory Services.
Florida, R., & Jackson, S. (2010) Sonic city: The evolving economic geography of the music industry. Journal of Planning Education and Research, 29(3), pp. 310-321.
Flyvbjerg, B. (2001) Making Social Science Matter: Why Social Inquiry Fails and How it Can Succeed Again. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Fraser, A. (2012) The spaces, politics, and cultural economies of electronic dance music. Geography Compass, 6(8), pp. 500-511.
Grievink, E. & van Odijk, T. (2013) Ich bin ein Rotterdammer. Vers Beton. [online] Available at:
<http://versbeton.nl/2013/11/ich-bin-ein-rotterdammer/?fb_action_ids=10151867235838768&fb_action_types=og.likes&fb_source=other_m ultiline&action_object_map=%5B161242600751897%5D&action_type_map=%5B%22og.likes%22%5 D&action_ref_map=%5B%5D> [Accessed 16 December 2013].
Halfacree, K.H. & Kitchin, R.M. (1996) 'Madchester Rave on': Placing the Fragments of Popular Music. Area, pp. 47-55.
Hegemann, D. (2009) Eine 20-järige Ost-West-Reise. The European. [online] Available at: <http://www.theeuropean.de/dimitri-hegemann/1552-techno-bewegung> [Accessed 13 October 2013].
Hoorntje, R. (2013) Amsterdam Dance Event. In: Terphoven, A. van, Veen, G. van, Mӧller, B. & Slagter, A. (2013) Mary Go Wild. Amsterdam: Maslow. pp. 485-493.
Hracs, B.J., Grant, J.L., Haggett, J., & Morton, J. (2011) A tale of two scenes: civic capital and retaining musical talent in Toronto and Halifax. The Canadian Geographer/Le Géographe canadien, 55(3), pp. 365-382.
IBB (2013) Berlin aktuell – Musikstandort Berlin. Berlin: Investitionsbank Berlin.
Johansson, O. & Bell, T.L. (2012) Introduction. In: Johansson, O. & Bell, T.L. (Eds.). Sound, society and the geography of popular music. Surrey: Ashgate Publishing, Ltd., pp. 1-10.
Kist, R. (2010) The demise of European nightlife. NRC Handelsblad [online]Available at: <http://vorige.nrc.nl/international/Features/article2475077.ece/> [Accessed 13 February 2014].
24 Kloosterman, R.C. (2005) Come together: An introduction to music and the city. Built Environment, 31(3), pp. 181-191.
Kooistra, S. (2013) Festivalknal. In: Terphoven, A. van, Veen, G. van, Mӧller, B. & Slagter, A. (2013) Mary Go Wild. Amsterdam: Maslow. pp. 503-517.
Krätke, S. (2003) Global media cities in a world-wide urban network. European Planning Studies, 11(6), pp. 605-628.
Kretschmar, O. & Grigutsch, R. (2007) Studie über das wirtschaftliche Potenzial der Club- und Veranstalterszene in Berlin. Berlin: Senatsverwaltung für Wirtschaft, Technologie und Frauen - Landesinitiative Projekt Zukunft.
Krynen, S. & Remmerswaal, S. (2014) Dance in de ogen van 19 Amsterdamse dj’s. 3voor12 [online] Available at: <http://3voor12.vpro.nl/lokaal/amsterdam/feed/2014/04/adr.html> [Accessed 19 June 2014]
Kuyper, A. (2013) 'Laat mij maar die oude held zijn', een interview met Joost van Bellen. NRC Handelsblad, 10 Oct 2013.
Kühn, J.-M. (2011) Arbeiten in der Berliner Techno-Szene. Skizze der Theorie einer Szenewirtschaft elektronischer Tanzmusik. Journal der Jugendkulturen, 17, pp. 52-59.
Lange, B. & Bürkner, H.J. (2013) Value Creation in Scene‐based Music Production: The Case of Electronic Club Music in Germany. Economic Geography, 89(2) , pp. 149-169.
Leyshon, A. (2001) Time-space (and digital) compression: software formats, musical networks, and the reorganisation of the music industry. Environment and Planning A, 33(1), pp. 49-78.
Ley, D. (2003) Artists, aestheticisation and the field of gentrification. Urban studies, 40(12), pp. 2527-2544.
Lovering, J. (1998) The global music industry: Contradictions in the commodification of the sublime. In: Leyshon, A., Matless, D., & Revill, G. (Eds.) (1998) The place of music. Guilford Press. pp. 31-56.
Marshall, A. (1890) Principles of Economics. London: Macmillan.
Meyer, E. (1998) Die Techno-Szene. Ein jugendkulturelles Phänomen aus sozialwissenschaftlicher Perspektive. Giesen: Justus Liebig-Universität. Dissertation.
25 Nabben, T. (2013) XTC. In: Terphoven, A. van, Veen, G. van, Mӧller, B. & Slagter, A. (Eds.) (2013) Mary Go Wild. Amsterdam: Maslow. pp. 108-111.
Nye, S. (2013) Minimal Understandings: The Berlin Decade, The Minimal Continuum, and Debates on the Legacy of German Techno. Journal of Popular Music Studies, 25(2), pp. 154-184.
Ogliastri, M.G. (2013) Burgemeester van Amsterdam: ‘Dance is iets goeds!’ [online] Available at: <http://www.djbroadcast.nl/features/featureitem_id=1939/Burgemeester_van_Amsterdam_Dance_ is_iets_goeds.html> [Accessed 29 April 2014].
Power, D., & Hallencreutz, D. (2002) Profiting from creativity? The music industry in Stockholm, Sweden and Kingston, Jamaica. Environment and Planning A, 34(10), pp. 1833-1854.
Projekt Zukunft (2014) Musikwirtschaft in Berlin. [online]
<http://www.berlin.de/projektzukunft/kreativwirtschaft/musik/hintergrundinformationen/> [Accessed 28 May 2014].
Rapp, T. (2009) Lost and Sound: Berlin, Techno und der Easyjetset. Berlin: Suhrkamp.
Schneeberger, R. (2013) Warum Berlin nicht Ibiza ist. Süddeutsche. [online] Available at: <http://www.sueddeutsche.de/leben/partyszene-in-der-hauptstadt-warum-berlin-nicht-ibiza-ist-1.1816630> [Accessed 16 December 2013].
Schram, O. (2013) Hardcore In: Terphoven, A. van, Veen, G. van, Mӧller, B. & Slagter, A. (2013) Mary Go Wild. Amsterdam: Maslow. pp 135-153.
Scott, A.J. (1999) The US recorded music industry: on the relations between organization, location; and creativity, in the cultural economy. Environment and Planning A, 31, pp. 1965-1984.
Scott, A.J. (2000) The cultural economy of cities: essays on the geography of image-producing industries. Sage Publications Limited.
Terphoven, A. van (2012) Zijn er te veel festivals in Nederland? DJ Broadcast. [online] http://www.djbroadcast.nl/features/featureitem_id=1789/Zijn_er_te_veel_festivals_in_Nederland.h tml [Accessed 5 April 2014].
Turner, Z. (2012) What Berlin owes to techno. New York Times [online]
26 Veen, G. van (2013a) Can you feel it?! In: Terphoven, A. van, Veen, G. van, Mӧller, B. & Slagter, A. (2013) Mary Go Wild. Amsterdam: Maslow. pp. 63-73.
Veen, G. van (2013b) RoXy & iT In: Terphoven, A. van, Veen, G. van, Mӧller, B. & Slagter, A. (2013) Mary Go Wild. Amsterdam: Maslow. pp. 25-42.
Veilbrief, B. & Veen, G. van (2013) De Amsterdamse renaissance. In: Terphoven, A. van, Veen, G. van, Mӧller, B. & Slagter, A. (2013) Mary Go Wild. Amsterdam: Maslow. pp. 439-451.
Watson, A., Hoyler, M., & Mager, C. (2009) Spaces and networks of musical creativity in the city. Geography Compass, 3(2), pp. 856-878.
Wijnstekers, M. (2013) Amsterdam, waar lech dat dan? In: Terphoven, A. van, Veen, G. van, Mӧller, B. & Slagter, A. (2013) Mary Go Wild. Amsterdam: Maslow. pp. 113-133.
