Bloc '16: A wonderful festival ruined by one of its founders

It’s Thursday afternoon. I’ve just typed the final full stop on my glowing review of the last ever Bloc Weekender. I’ve missed my deadline by 24 hours and am way over the briefed word count, but I'm content with the fact that I’ve given the detailed account that this whirlwind, end-of-an-era festival deserved.

For it was full of thrills: Jane Fitz created a joyful, communal mood that set the tone for the whole event; The Egyptian Lover's beach party was a riot; Holly Herndon brought her stunning soundscapes and DJ Deeon delivered a ghetto house masterclass in the Butlins equivalent of a JD Wetherspoon. Then there was the people watching. Nina Kraviz got stuck into an arcade game while Kieran Hebden queued for fish and chips, all adding to the trippy holiday park experience.

But just as we’re preparing to publish the article on Friday morning, The Spectator drops an article written by Bloc. co-founder and organiser George Hull titled 'Dull hipsters in broad daylight – why I’m done with today’s dance music'.

The piece is astoundingly bitter, comprising sentences like “young people these days just don’t know how to rave. They are too safe and boring” and describes today's dance music scene as “a monstrous cabal of overpaid circuit DJs titillating a precious and unimaginative bunch of wimpy pseudo-hedonists at a carefully designed ‘safe space’.”

It's the first time I've ever had the warm afterglow of a great festival experience completely ruined by comments made by an organiser in the aftermath of an event. Reading back my pending review, the magic I attempted to describe now feels flat; I don’t want to praise the work of a man bearing such eye-roll inducing views.

This “things were better back in my day” worldview is a commonly trotted-out comment from cynical old blokes, to the extent that it’s basically become a slogan of the ‘disaffected veterans’. It may be true, I can’t counter from experience, but I know that many of the comments Hull makes in reference to today’s generation are light years out of touch, and downright dangerous.

Hull writes in The Spectator: "Perhaps the most depressing trend of all is the introduction of the ‘safe space’ policy. In a step borrowed from the earnest world of the university student union, the budding young promoter’s first task is to debate, draft and publish detailed rules to demonstrate that everyone at the party will be properly supported, represented and instructed. It’s the opposite of fun.

“Once, the rave was supposed to feel like a distinctly unsafe space, even if the danger was illusory. There were no rules — that’s why we enjoyed it.”

This is completely short sighted. For many people the danger of raves is never “illusory”. Listen to the marginalised voices telling you about the harassment they suffer in night clubs week in, week out and it's clear that not everyone has such a privileged experience of partying.

Safe spaces aren’t about taking the fun out of clubbing, they’re about protecting the experience of every single person who wishes to participate in the community of dance music. And, in turn, making it more fun for everyone involved. A touch of chaos may be a welcome addition to raves, but not at the expense of inclusivity.

The Bloc. boss also writes: “For a long time, we have arranged for a team of kids to help us hang drapes before the rave started. We paid them in free tickets. In previous years, the difficulty was keeping the kids sober long enough that they could still climb a stepladder. This year, I received an email from their co-ordinator asking if we could supply any vegan meals. Also, he added, ‘Any way we can get free Wi-Fi in the chalets… one of the volunteers has some coursework to send?’ Times have changed.”

I'm not sure what drove Hull to write this but god forbid a student providing free labour in return for a decent dinner.

It’s a shame these views have been expressed, because speaking as a 22 year old who falls firmly among the demographic of Hull’s scorn, I can confirm that I and all my peers had an absolute blast at Butlins.

My original review was titled Bloc Weekender: The last days of Minehead, and had a strand running through it likening the experience to the fabled last days of Rome, as civilisation faded into the past and (respectful) debauchery ruled the roost. The atmosphere was so electric upon arrival that I almost expected to flinch from static shocks as I brushed against people in the security queue.

In fact, the pervading rave spirit became so strong that I’m pretty sure I saw it transcend into the physical world and possess someone at one point. On my way out of Rødhåd’s typically powerful performance in the Carharrt stage, I was greeted by the sight of a friend of a friend on the floor, seemingly on the brink of passing out. Welfare attendants arrived to strap her into a wheelchair, and just as they turned to push her towards the health centre, against all odds she snapped out of the stupor, lifting her head up slightly to casually declare “wheel it” as she rolled away. If her hands hadn’t been hidden beneath a blanket, I’m pretty sure her gun fingers would have been raised as well.

I was looking forward to seeing if the wonderful spirit generated at Butlins at the weekend could be replicated on a smaller scale at the planned “super club” Bloc are developing in East London – but now that's of little interest. I'll be checking line-ups posted by promoters and venues that respect the scene and its many interlinked communities instead.

Patrick Hinton is Mixmag's Digital Intern. Follow him on Twitter