IS TAIPEI GIVING ASIAN RAVE UTOPIA?

Searching for something of our own

Writing about Taipei’s party scene last week cracked open some new ideas in my rave writing, specifically around the concept of “nightlife nationalism.” This notion explores how grassroots party culture can either challenge or subvert narratives of belonging and exceptionalism – depending on the broader political environment. If you haven’t caught up yet, start here with part one, at an eccentric club you won’t find on Google Maps, and embodies the off-kilter wonkiness of a ketamine trip.

Next, let’s delve deeper into issues that complicate Taipei’s image as the ultimate Asian rave utopia. From police crackdowns to TikTok techno and a bag of bath salts stuffed into a crack in the wall, no party exists without some drama and bullshit… but at the same time, the post-pandemic shift in Taiwanese nightlife is nothing less than a powerful post-colonial awakening.

A new wave of underground clubs in Asia share a common vibe: bold one-word names styled in ALL CAPS, razor-edged post-club sounds reverberating through starkly minimalist spaces, Instagram party flyers that look like devil scratchings, and tagged photos of techno-punks slouching against its walls, their expressions a mix of defiance and euphoria. FINAL, a well-known club in Taipei, epitomizes this futurist rave scene and its cutting-edge taste, and I was eager to breach the long-distance voyeurism of social media to get a view from the ground.

FINAL has been a significant platform for the Taipei-based DJ Tzusing and other left-leaning artists in his orbit; a compilation album for the club curated by Tzusing on his Sea Cucumber label last year handpicked five producers (Meuko! Meuko!, B E N N, Lujiachi, jondu, Sandy’s Trace) who represented its emergent sound: an icy, cybernetic assault of shrapnel from a post-apocalyptic, post-pop hinterland. “At Final, there is a home for all the restless,” read the album’s liner notes, which also quoted the Chinese absurdist dramatist Gao Xingjian on the notion of ancestral homeland:

“This is our hometown, it's impossible to live uncomfortably here. Our ancestors have been rooted in this land for generations, you don't need to come all the way to find home." 

The headliner on the night of my much-anticipated visit was ¥ØU$UK€ ¥UK1MAT$U, a Tokyo-based DJ with the striking looks of a bald yakuza. ¥UK1MAT$U’s shot to global attention in 2022 with a viral DJ set at Berlin internet radio station HOR, where he captivated the world with his chiseled body torpedoing through a set that collapsed dozens of musical genres into striking new shapes. Despite his rising acclaim, few festivals or venues in the United States or Europe have booked him for upcoming tour dates, so I was even more excited to catch him at Final, a club that seemed ahead of the curve. 

Taipei was in the middle of a cold winter snap, and I braced myself as I stepped out of the Uber into the biting winds. My heart sank as I surveyed the long-ass line snaking down a dismal alleyway next to the club, which was on a lower-floor of a nondescript building.

I’d recently suffered a back injury that required me to wear a brace, and in my granny era, the masochism of waiting for hours to get into a party without a plug for guestlist is no longer an exquisite torture.

Most of the people standing in line looked like Taiwanese kids in their early 20s, with a smattering of expats who jabbered loudly in British accents. Almost comically, everyone was dressed in black, in the exaggerated silhouettes, camo prints, and oversized hoods of Gen-Z streetwear. Cute, but still a uniform. The whole vibe was honestly giving “TikTok techno,” but I was hoping to be proven wrong. 

Despite its status as one of the best clubs in Taipei, FINAL has gotten mixed reviews from DJs and friends I’ve spoken to. Grievances included: sucky sound, a young crowd that was enthusiastic but untrained in proper club etiquette (ie: lots of pushing), and the impression that everyone was trying a little too hard to be cool. One DJ said he felt like he was on a movie set instead of a rave, while another laughed as he related how he overheard at least five separate club-goers compare themselves to being in the infamous “blood rave” in Blade – perhaps the most overly-referenced movie scene in rave culture, other than the one in The Matrix where a club goes off to Plastikman. On the flipside, other homies have cheerfully chirped that the club is “suuuuper cute,” “definitely not Berghain,” and “a scene that’s uniquely Taiwanese.” 

“Look, just go with a bag of ketamine,” someone joked. “It’s kind of a black hole.”