Actually, whether or not we’re going to be ok remains to be seen. The long term effects of MDMA have not been well documented and are shrouded by polarizing propaganda. Canadian health officials are like oh yea, if it’s pure there may not be any long-term effects and American health officials are like YOU’RE GONNA FUCKIN’ DIE! So which is it? Who really tests their drugs to make sure they’re clean? And what about all the other crazy shit you hosers are mixing in?
The Diplo constituency (meaning Yellow Claw, LNY TNZ, and Waka) nailed it in their ‘Techno’ music video above – drugs just aren’t worth the risk. But then, my mind goes straight to, “Said no one ever.” As a grown-ass lady I see this message and I’m like yep, totally. But I try to think about how 20 year old Molly would have reacted to it, and I don’t think it would have made a bit of difference. I was hellbent on doing all the drugs up until I started to get the impression that the artists weren’t on that same tip.
Ultra 2009, waiting for a cab in South Beach with my hero Pedro Winter and his late, great bestie Mehdi, I was listening to their conversation with a lady who said she wasn’t going to the festival because it made her too sad to look out and see all the kids so fucked up. While P and Medhi were having some back and forth about this in French, I suddenly felt like a flagrant amateur. For the last few years, I’d been part of the dead-behind-the-eyes-masses taking drugs at every Rave. I threw my drugs away right there on the street because I was terrified of outing myself to my heroes as a n00b.
When we got to the fest, for the first time EVER I wasn’t worried about getting searched walking in or in a hurry to get some drugs in me before so and so’s set started. And I saw everyone around me differently, way too many people moved like zombies and way too many people looked like they were more worried about babysitting a schmammered friend than having a good time. I remembered the anxious feeling of coming to Ultra the year before with no drugs and how we were desperately wandering around trying to buy them off strangers. It seemed like a dreadfully lame bad dream walking in with the Ed Banger fantasy crew a year later.
I want y’all to know how much empathy and understanding I have for everyone who hasn’t graduated to professional raver status. When you turn Rave-Pro, you acknowledge that you love the music enough and you want to rage more often than your brain can handle party-chemicals. You surrender to the dance-gods and let the DJ take you wherever it is y’all are destined to go together. It’s beautiful – the drugs are in your mind and they’ll pour out if you catch the right vibe, or better yet, create it.