Delirious: An Interview

Notorious in Sydney for throwing some of the best underground raves that the city has to offer, Kai Delirious has made a name for himself as a powerful force within the coastal city’s techno scene.

Originally from Marrickville, he moved around a bit but has spent most of his life in the Inner West. It was there, in the thick of Newtown and its bohemian enclaves, that he first got introduced to techno and rave culture. He didn’t grow up on techno, though. Like caviar, VB Shoeys, and a good goon bag, it was an acquired taste.

“I came from a background of Rock and roll…and always kind of thought techno was weird electronic music that doesn’t seem like real music. I got invited to a rave and kind of went along and thought, ‘oh this is what techno is okay,” and just kept going to raves and was   kind of like, ‘fuck, actually, this is sick.”

In Marrickville, the seedlings for his career as a DJ, promoter, and organizer had been planted. As he got older, Kai began attending more and more events—seeing how different organizers set up their parties, meeting new people, and learning the tricks of the trade. In 2020, along with two friends, he launched Illicit Underground, a relatively new label on Sydney’s techno block but one that has been met with early success.  

In a city of five million people with seemingly limitless nightlife options in the form of bars, clubs, pubs, and countless other variations on offer, the question remains: why wasn’t this enough? According to Kai, the main issue with clubs was their vibe.

“The feeling that I always got was that I went with a bunch of friends to get really drunk, and the whole vibe of the clubs I was going to at that time was to find somebody to hook up with and hook up with them. That’s why you’re here, not really to enjoy the music. The music is just there because you’re drunk trying to hook up with someone. When I first experienced a rave, I never felt any pressure to do something I didn’t want to do. I felt absolutely like I could do what I wanted to do.”

Kai’s sentiments reflect those of many I’ve spoken to within the rave community who share the sentiment that raves are free of the status-quo expectations and limitations that bog down other kinds of night life environments. People hook up at raves, of course, and sometimes, they put together elaborate outfits, but the environment seems to be much more liberal. In other words, anything goes. There is no expectation that one will find a romantic partner or spend hours on their hair and make up and outfit. And there are no long lines or VIP lists. The scene is secretive, and the events are typically invite only and on an “if you know, you know” basis, but once there, acceptance and celebration seem to be the rule du jour.  

Along with music that is hard to find in Sydney, the community is probably the biggest selling point for revelers. Week after week, they find themselves in a group of people who just want to dance without the pomp and circumstance of high heels, designer dresses, and Prada handbags.

“It’s such a different feel. It’s a community, even if you don’t know everyone there. For those six hours that you’re there, everybody’s there for the same reason—to have a good time. It doesn’t matter who you’re dancing with, you’re going to give them a hug and handshake and say “what’s your name, who are you?”

The feeling that one is part of something bigger than themselves, that they share intimate knowledge of an exclusive but open secret with a select group, and the comfort that, to a large degree, anything goes is what brings people to these events. It's why Kai liked them initially. And it’s the backbone of Illicit Productions.

With case numbers spiking and no end to Sydney’s lockdown in sight, techno parties seem like a distant memory. But one day they’ll be back, as they always have been. Resilience, resistance, and resurgence, after all, characterize the genre.

(Internationally Recognized) New Kid on the Block: Sitting Down with Blake Strange

 If you’re part of Sydney’s underground techno family, you’ve probably heard of Blake Strange. A new kid on the block, Strange is one of those rare Aussies in a scene dominated mainly by internationals and expats.  As a Moonshift Resident, he’s played at various events, mixed live on Orbital Radio, and successfully ingratiated himself into the scene. His notoriety, though, transcends the city limits.

Dropped alongside a gorgeous accompanying video, his first major release “Rainbow Road” put him on the map. But it was “Shadow” that really established him as a tour de force. Snapped up by Stil vor Talent, “Shadow” got to #19 on Beatport’s Electronica top 100 and was added to Oliver Koletzki’s Personal Tracks: June.   His next release, “Flow” was signed by UK label Capital Heaven and again got featured on Beatport, this time on Best New Breaks/Breakbeat & UK Bass: June and Opening Fundamentals 2021.

As we spoke, enthusiasm oozed out of him like goo. There was a faint madness in his eyes which glimmered with uncontrollable passion. He spoke with wild gestures, using a childlike curiosity to shimmy through the conversation with flare and pizazz. If there’s one thing about this man that’s clear, it’s that he loves music. He drinks it, snorts it, sleeps with it, and carries it with him everywhere he goes. Like August Rush, he can taste it, feel it, and hear it—always.

“Some people just know they wanna be an Olympian bike rider,” he told me. “Some people just know they wanna do building and construction…they click with it…I just knew and still know that [music is] that thing that gets me up in the morning, and I’m super excited to do it.”   

His take on performing is refreshing, unique, and counterintuitive. While one might think that a DJ gets off on watching a crowd go wild and sending the masses into hysteria, Strange plays to the individual.

“At a bushdoof or rave, [I’m] playing to that person who’s just absolutely fuckin’ frothin out of their mind. He’s just really enjoying the music,” he told me.

Asked to elaborate, he spoke about a set that he was playing in an industrial kitchen somewhere in Sydney’s gritty underbelly.

“There was this one girl [at that party], and I could see she was just into it. I was playing techno and it was building to this filthy sort of plateau, but I could just see the way she had her eyes closed and she was enjoying absolutely every second of it. Afterwards, I went up and spoke to her and said ‘Did you enjoy that? Did you have a good time?’ And I said: ‘I was literally playing that set to you.”  

Asked what tips he has for new producers, Strange had one thing to say: “Finish your music.”

While putting in the time and effort to rigorously study different aspects of music production day in and day out is necessary, according to Strange it is not sufficient. “Number one tip, if you could put it in a sentence: ‘Finish your music,” he told me candidly. To him, that’s the most important piece.

As to the future, we will very soon see the release of his new EP, “Human Error,” the first track of which is called “Rabbit Hole.” Beyond that, he hopes to embark on a world tour, bringing his sound to different people in different countries. If he could pick, his first stop would be Tokyo.

Socials: 

LT: https://linktr.ee/blakestrange

SC: soundcloud.com/blakestrange

IG:@blakestrangeee

BP: https://www.beatport.com/artist/blake-strange/897711

NEW YORK MEETS PARIS IN SYDNEY: A Review of Neil Perry’s Sydney Clubhouse

Distant memories of a pre-lockdown time that will soon again be upon us

Walking into Rockpool, one feels as if they’veve entered a strange mélange between a legacy steakhouse in midtown Manhattan and a storied European cocktail lounge—an enchanting combination of Del Frisco’s in New York and La Closerie des Lilas in Paris or Harry’s Bar in Florence. Far from France or Italy or America, however, Rockpool sits in the heart of Sydney. It’s a pleasant surprise, a gorgeous addition, and an inevitable powerhouse for the de facto capital of Britain’s former convict colony.

Rife with 30-meter ceilings, marble flooring, and towering columns, the place is verbose but solemn, commanding but graceful—intoxicating, charming, lascivious. Impeccably dressed, suit-sporting waiters usher in an ambiance of Madmen and Ocean’s 11—of Rat Pack chic and timeless elegance. Ubiquitous shades of noir invite one into a secret club, a mysterious culinary adventure waiting to be experienced. Overlooking the many tables below, an enormous balcony perches itself unimposingly above the noise. Of course, the second story also hosts a number of private dining rooms, as well as the powdering rooms.

The food is delectable, to say the least. The Oysters are enormous, fresh, and luxurious—lending new meaning to the old adage that the delicacy serves as an unparalleled aphrodisiac. The Squid Ink Risotto, topped with mouthwatering grilled pork belly is a staple. Warm, soft, and jet black, the dish beckons memories of holiday meals with beloved family members on cold winter nights. The Charcoal Roasted Prawns, peeled for convenience and thoroughly marinated, transport those with the good fortune to taste them off to an exotic seaside beach club on the Mediterranean. Their version of “Mac and Cheese,” which is really more of a Penne a la Vodka, tickles the taste buds and classes up a childhood favorite. The scallops are thick, succulent, and addicting. The freshly baked bread and butter blows all other yeast bakers out of the water.

While the menu is vast and expansive, their specialties come from the woodfired grill. The Free-Range Chicken with Jerusalem Artichokes and Sage Burnt Butter occupies the position of best in Sydney, hands down. Thick and juicy, it somehow manages to feel light, delicate, and angelic. The beef, on the other hand, sits in a league of its own, putting The Gidley, 6Head, and many of Sydney’s other iconic steakhouses to shame. Their trick is that there is no staple, no go-to cut. The selection changes daily, meaning that Rockpool’s meat guru’s pick the best cuts on offer from exceptional butchers each and every morning. Master’s in their craft, the chefs know to prepare just about anything. Like the Fast saga’s Dominic Toretto always says—it ain’t the car, it’s the driver. At Rockpool, it ain’t the meat, it’s the chefs. But frankly, the meat is uniformly of exceptional quality—thoroughly marbled, expertly seasoned, and exquisitely cooked. The full blood wagyu’s I’ve had there are my favorites, but again, anything one orders is going to melt in their mouth. 

Then there are the desserts. Rockpool might as well have a bakery tucked into a corner of their vast kitchen, because these treats are worthy of a very lucky child’s birthday party and bring one back to the many they likely celebrated as a kid in parks, in classrooms, and at home. The Red Velvet Cupcakes are especially indulgent—rich, creamy, and deserving of their own award for best dessert.

 The quality of service is second to none. They think of everything. On two occasions, upon returning from the bathroom, I found my food had been kept warm by an attentive waiter. For my birthday, which had been noted in the reservation, I received a battery of complimentary dishes—prawns, scallops, champagne, cupcakes, and chocolate. This, of course, was in addition to what we had ordered. I couldn’t finish all of it and, admittedly, took some home—because even reheated, Rockpool is far better than anything I or anybody else can cook. It’s also worth noting that sharing is caring at Rockpool, and almost all of the dishes can be split. In fact, for no extra cost and, I suspect, a bit of a heftier portion, the waiter will serve out dishes on separate plates.  On another occasion, I asked to move tables because I couldn’t hear my date over the uproarious laughter coming from a portly gent seated nearby. Our table was moved immediately, with no questions asked.

The bar and the cocktails (which, evidently, are also served in the dining room) are a world apart from the restaurant, but consistent in quality. Adjoined to the main floor but in a separate little building, the bar is sleek, chic, and noir—like something out of the David Yurman Townhouse on Madison and 57th. It’s a modern, sophisticated play on the old diner’s clubs of New York where politicians, businessmen, and journalists used to hold court, for their power lunches, happy hours, and pre-dinner drinks. The Wagyu-Rubbed Old Fashioned is one of their timeless specialties. So too is their whiskey sour. Most drinks come with a large square ice cube sporting an intricate, freshly carved pattern. As with the food, the cocktail menu is ever-changing, so there’s always something new, exciting, and gay to which one can eagerly look forward.   

Without trepidation, I would recommend Rockpool to anybody. The only caveat to that is that the restaurant is, by nature and design, rather expensive. It is a special occasion joint whose patrons typically come to celebrate something. It’s not the kind of place you’d visit multiple times a week. But it doesn’t try or intend to be. Rockpool is what it is—an unapologetic, beautiful feast.

Morality, Reason, Heroism, Sacrifice:The Dark Knight revisited

The Dark Knight sits on a short list of the greatest superhero films ever made and endures as an integral piece of the American cinematic canon. Themes of morality, reason, heroism, and sacrifice pervade the film and really force us to think critically about what is being conveyed. This analysis unpacks three of Nolan’s expertly portrayed messages.

1.) The Joker’s Greatest Game: Corrupting Batman and Harvey Dent

Batman’s moral code consists of two elements: no-killing and remaining anonymous. We begin with the former, which is evident in his forgoing multiple opportunities to kill the Joker. Consider the scene in which the Joker attacks the convoy transporting Harvey Dent. Batman intervenes, saving Harvey, which results in a stand-off wherein Batman rides his motorcycle at full-speed towards the Joker, who gleefully cries out “Hit me. Come on. Hit me.” Killing the Joker would put an end to the terrorism and mayhem that he has wreaked on Gotham. And yet, out of adherence to his rule, Batman refuses to kill the Joker, who goes on to blow up a hospital, a police station, and arranges a depraved prisoner’s dilemma experiment that would force Gotham’s citizens to kill or be killed. Not even at the end of the movie, after the Joker has blown up a hospital, a police station, and (almost) two ferries full of citizens does Batman relent and kill him to put an end to further mayhem. When the Joker is falling off the building, Batman catches him with his grappe-gun and pulls him back up. Killing the Joker would be the rational thing to do by a strictly utilitarian calculation—kill one (the Joker) to save many (his future victims). Out of a Kantian devotion to his rule, however, Batman refuses to break it.

Of course, there are those who would argue that Batman’s refusing to unmask is irrational by a utilitarian calculation. The Joker, after all, states early on in the film that he will kill people until Batman unmasks. And he does. Some of his victims include Bryan (a Batman copycat), Judge Surillo, Police Commissioner Gillian B. Loeb, Richard Harvey, and Patrick Dent. The argument one might be tempted to level against Batman is that by refusing to reveal his identity, the actions of one result in the death of five. This argument, however, is flawed.

Let us pretend, for the sake of argument, that the Joker would, in fact, stop killing civilians if Batman were to unmask. The first issue with this argument is that everything Batman represents necessitates anonymity because he is more than just a vigilante. He is a symbol of law and order in a crime-ridden and intensely corrupt city where mayors, district attorneys, and police commissioners don’t even trust each other. In such a city, Batman is a sign of hope for its people.

As Harvey Dent puts it, “Gotham’s proud of an ordinary man standing up for what’s right,” calling Batman a “public service.” Batman could be anybody and that’s the point. Kowtowing to the demands of a murderous terrorist shows weakness, not strength. And it sends a message to Batman’s constituency—the people of Gotham—that they should acquiesce to and appease criminals and terrorists rather than take a stand against them. Appeasing criminals, however, is never a good strategy. Consider simply British and American foreign policy towards Germany in the inter-war period. They appeased Hitler, who gradually gained exponentially greater power, and by the time the US and Britain did intervene, it was already too late.

So no, refusing to unmask is not irrational, even if it may seem to be so at face value.  And besides, recall that we’ve only been pretending. It’s extremely likely that the Joker would actually keep his word and stop the terrorism as a result of Batman’s unmasking.

A second counterargument that merits response is that The Dark Knight is really just a series of elaborate Trolley Problems: Batman can kill one (The Joker) to save many (his future victims), the civilians on Ferry A can blow up the prisoners on Ferry B or vice versa in order to save their own lives, Batman can save either Harvey or Rachael but not both. Neither Kantian nor utilitarian frameworks offer particularly fruitful insight into these issues. The unavoidable issue is that it may seem impossible to ascribe relative value to human life, especially when compared to another human life. In the Joker’s case, however, it is clear that his life does not deserve to be protected. Hundreds, if not thousands, die because he uses his existence to kill others, infringing upon their right to life. Many states in the US punish murder capitally. In many American courts, he would be sentenced to death.

Thus far, we have talked about Batman and Batman’s motivations. The Joker, however, proves equally interesting. Throughout the film, he attempts to highlight that morality and reason are sometimes mutually exclusive. It is simply irrational for Batman to not kill him, and yet Batman refuses. The Joker explains this to Batman in the final fight scene, stating in a conversation with Batman that “You won’t kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness.” Recall that after Batman forgoes the opportunity to hit and kill the Joker with his motorcycle, the Joker blows up a hospital, a police station, and (almost) two ferries. Indeed, by “misplaced sense of self-righteousness” the Joker means Batman’s no-killing rule. It is only then, at the end of the film, that Batman recognizes the Joker is right. It makes no sense for a murderer to live while innocent people die because of his survival. For this reason, Batman kills Harvey Dent (a murderer who will murder again) in order to save the lives of Commissioner Gordon, his wife Barbara, and his son James, who Harvey was going to kill. By film’s end, Batman finally breaks his rule and privileges reason over an irrational moral conviction. And, in that way, the Joker wins by successfully demonstrating that moral convictions which fly in the face of reason ought to be abandoned.

He doesn’t just do this with Batman, however. He also does it with Dent. The Joker takes the most noble, moral, and incorruptible public servant in Gotham—the man who Batman believes will replace him—and corrupts him, turning him into a murderer who kills Officer Wuertz, Maroni, Maroni’s driver, and (almost) the Gordons. Dent and Batman are both steadfast, obstinate men whose rules govern the entirety of their existence. Then the Joker comes along, turning Gotham’s White Knight into a deranged murderer and goading Gotham’s Dark Knight into accepting that homicide is sometimes an appropriate and justified moral act.

2.) Heroism Must be Self-Effacing

Another key, controversial message in the film is that heroism must be self-effacing. This comes up twice during the film. First, when Batman refuses to unmask and the Joker kills five people, turning parts of the public against him. Alfred’s advice to Batman is to “Endure, Master Wayne. Take it. They'll hate you for it, but that's the point of Batman... he can be the outcast. He can make the choice no one else can face. The right choice.” That, indeed, is the crucial point. True heroism is not about getting the credit, the reward, or the distinction. True heroism might even necessitate sacrificing one’s own reputation, as is the case with Batman. It is for this reason that the final scenes of the film see Batman assuming blame for the murders of Harvey Dent. “Sometimes the truth isn’t good enough,” he states. “Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded.” Lamenting the false assumption of blame, an incredulous Gordon protests, chanting “No, you can’t! You’re not!” Batman’s response to this is simply: “I’m whatever Gotham needs me to be.” In this case, what he believes Gotham needs him to be is a scapegoat. To protect Harvey Dent’s reputation and uphold the integrity of his many previous convictions, Batman acts in a truly heroic manner: he does the right thing privately, publicly assuming the blame of a villain. As University of Vermont English Professor Todd McGowan so eloquently stated in an incisive 2009 article, “In the eyes of the public, true heroes must identify themselves with the evil that we fight.”

The idea that reputational sacrifice comes along with heroism is not novel. In the 1770s’, Ben Franklin specifically asked Thomas Hutchinson and Andrew Oliver to bite the bullet and let their own reputations be ruined in order to serve the interests of the colonial cause in their battle against the Crown. In the 1860’s, Lincoln suspended Habeus Corpus as well as other civil liberties at a massive cost to his own reputation in order to win the Civil war. In the early 2000’s, the Bush administration passed the Patriot Act, at a great cost to their own reputation, to keep Americans safe. Whatever one thinks of these particular acts, they are merely examples. The point here is simply that heroism can sometimes be self-effacing. It would be a stretch to state, as McGowan does, that it “must” be self-effacing, as certainly, there are some heroic acts which are rewarded and rightfully so. Perhaps the greatest heroic act is to do the right thing in a situation not only where you won’t get credit, but in which you will be penalized for your actions.

3.) Suspension of Disbelief

In addition to everything written thus far and the many themes that the film encompasses, perhaps the reason why The Dark Knight endures is simply because it is realistic and real. Batman has no superpowers and a billionaire at the helm of a multinational corporation could, ostensibly, become a crime-fighting vigilante. Unlike other superhero films, The Dark Knight does not require one to suspend their disbelief, willingly or unwillingly.