TAIPEI (Taiwan News) — Before the algorithms, before the follower counts, before the half-naked influencers and corporate sponsors, there was the pure passion and ecstasy of the music, said Earthfest Revolutions founder Blaine Whiteley.

This was the inspiration behind his first event, SpaceDance in 2001, where glow-in-the-dark stars and black UV lights were hung from trees, a visual experience "that just popped," according to Whiteley. Now, more than two decades later, he's still at it, working to create an environment where the music isn't just heard but felt.

“A warehouse has an echo incorporated in the sounds of techno; Jamaican dub and jungle producers worked in the low-ceilinged basements of Victorian houses and didn’t fight the sound; they incorporated it into their mix. Psytrance isn’t for a dark room; it’s for massive outdoor expanses.”

Whiteley says original rave culture from the UK is not the same as the electronic dance music that we currently know. He says he feels saddest for trance — the genre most copied by electronic dance music, an affront that he likens to the “dB wars,” where the dynamic range of music was compressed into oblivion for headphones, not for large sound systems.

This is a war fought on two fronts. The first is personal. “Everyone, I’ve been off socials for a while,” was the lead sentence in a recent missive he posted on Facebook. It announced he was breaking his silence, and the story was a gut-punch of divorce, sonic idealism, and a fight for the heart of rave.

“Earthfest has always been my baby,” he confessed, pulling back the curtain on a silent civil war with his ex-wife, Monica. What began as a hobby — “as expensive as playing golf in Taiwan” — became a battleground.

The second front is cultural. This is a rebellion against the empty spectacle of major EDM festivals, where lineups are chosen by Instagram followers. It’s also a middle finger to “Boiler Room,” where DJs are now front and center, or in the latest gimmick, two DJs are facing each other instead of the audience.

His battle is for the “youngsters” who’ve never heard music on a proper hi-fi system, for a generation fed a neutered version of electronic music. “Even if you buy a track, it’s not the same as the file the DJ plays at a festival,” he says.

The financials of the festival are a nightmare of idealism. The cost of a proper PA system and the massive, quiet generators needed to run it (“we often use three”) has nearly tripled since 2008.

Camping fees have skyrocketed. Yet the early bird ticket to Earthfest is often cheaper than the cost of three nights of camping. “Our Japanese friends are usually shocked,” he says. It’s a miracle built on volunteers and a refusal to capitulate.

“I try to keep prices as low as possible. The average guy doesn’t earn enough money. If we set our prices any higher, it will only be for rich people, most of whom sit on their asses and hope to be entertained. They want to feel they are special. If the dance floor becomes empty, the club dies.”

And the DJs? Last year, he was well oversubscribed — 85 on the bill, 65 waiting. He aims both the greenhorns and the egomaniacs. “Many young DJs come with a prerehearsed set, and no matter what is happening in front of them, stick with it,” he laments.

For Whiteley, DJing is a sacred contract: “It is a special skill to gradually bring a group of strangers into the world you want them to experience.”

This year's lineup includes eight DJs from overseas, like Japan and New Zealand, many willing to forego normal fees because they are already on tour or appreciate the communal aspects of Earthfest Revolutions.

It’s a struggle against the social media trap that hurts independent festivals, a game he refuses to play. He’ll find a way to break through the cycle, maybe by selling tickets through the Line app, maybe with ticket ambassadors. Old-school word-of-mouth for a new-school rebellion.

So what is a rave, as defined in the UK back in the day? It was a mix of genres: jungle, drum and bass, breakbeat, Detroit techno, Chicago acid house, Belgian trance, and a mashup of German techno and tribal beats. And when the DJs eventually started producing, we also had UK-made ‘rave’ tracks. But more than anything, it was a feeling. It was a secret you shared.

Whiteley said he previously avoided using the word "rave" to describe his parties because most of the world only knows rave from post-1995, when "rave" tracks were being produced in their hundreds, and he "wanted people to leave their whistles at home."

After a pause, he says it’s about taking a timeout from the everyday sameness most people live through, being in an environment with no advertising telling you your life is not complete unless you own X and look like Y. This is especially true with electronic dance music with very minimal vocals, like suddenly finding your own inner voice and giving you a sense of true spiritual freedom.

So, what is the definition of a good electronic festival? To Whiteley, a few things are non-negotiable. You need a minimum of three days and two nights in the middle of nowhere to have time to leave your life behind. You need excellent high-fidelity sound systems playing a variety of music to break out of algorithmic echo chambers. And you do not need rich sponsors or companies that can pull the plug any time; instead, you should rely on a small group of individuals of no status with an “all in” ethos.

This year's Earthfest Revolutions (地球革命戶外電子音樂祭) takes place from Sept. 26–29 at the Not Far Villa in Miaoli's Sanyi Township.