Global Tribe: Technology, Spirituality & Psytrance
Université de Montréal (Canada)
The culmination of over a decade of research in the field—in the heat and dust of deserts, forests and beaches; the mysticism and anarchy of doofs, burns, eclipses and solstices—Graham St John’s Global Tribe: Technology, Spirituality & Psytrance undertakes a definitive exploration of global psytrance cultures. Beginning with a much-needed history of the Western “traveller” figure that cultivated a life of ecstatic exile on the beaches of Goa, India, St John explores the influence of the Goa scene’s psychedelic aesthetics upon the development of “psyculture” and its frenetic, rapturous and at times spiritual electronic dance music known as “psytrance”. The story of psyculture, St John writes, begins with Western hippie travellers gathering in Goa, where anarchic assemblies of counterculture drop-outs threw psychedelic beach parties that combined mysticism, entheogens and “cosmo rock” music in the 1960s and 1970s. In the 1980s, Goa as a place and musical aesthetic slowly transformed itself, shedding jam-band psychedelic rock and embracing the all-night dance rituals of DJ culture. Turning to first-hand accounts from the scene’s founders and figures (including a chapter on Goa Gil as well as earlier progenitors), St John details Goa’s countercultural and musical shifts, describing the progression of cultural conflicts that shaped its eventual turn to electronic music, before becoming the spiritual and symbolic home of the genre and subcultural aesthetic known as “psytrance” in the 1990s. With intensity, passion and an exquisite attention to detail, St John describes how “Goa”, as a signifier for a mythic space and time of privileged freedom for Western drop-outs, became synonymous with electronic trance music, “Orientalist” psychedelic aesthetics and shamanic approaches to DJ mixology and participant dance rituals.
After explicating Goa’s history, St John turns to psyculture scenes worldwide. Crafting an engaging and enlightening journey through its many festivals and events, St John draws upon extensive participant interviews and historical testimony as he unfolds the past and present state of psyculture happenings and festivals. Speaking with dancers, DJs, promoters, producers, writers, artists and travellers, St John reports in from the edges of the dancefloor, describing how psyculture has become an enduring and rich dimension of electronic dance music culture that continues to pursue peaceful, collective living in sonic celebration.
The text ramps up in intensity as St John strives to articulate traveller identity to the qualitative values that emerge from psyculture. Reporting in from over a decade of travels to psycultures events around the globe, St John theorizes the ontology of the traveller, describing how the Western drop-out explores “being-in-transit” by pursuing, and re-creating, the entheonautic exploration of altered states first pioneered on Anjuna beach. The many insightful and often provocative passages of Global Tribe are born out of St John’s dedication to being-in-transit as a means of self-transformation and ethnographic exploration.
Drawing upon the language deployed among field participants—in workshops, encounters, flyers and internet forums, but also album and track titles, liner notes and ephemera—St John cultivates an exhaustive conceptual lexicon in which to address and theorize psyculture. The peculiar flavours of the idiom places demands upon the reader, as St John often writes with the impact of experiential shorthand. Concepts such as neotrance and trance carnival, or that of being-in-transit and the various permutations of (neo)liminality, undertake the analytical labour in forging precise meanings and contexts for the cultural (and at times political) framework of exodus. These and other concepts explore dimensions of psycultural exile, wherein participants pursue ecstatic belongings by undertaking transformational reconstructions of the self. By differentiating his theoretical usages from the texts of Mikhail Bakhtin, Hakim Bey, Gilles Deleuze, Victor Turner and Georges Bataille, St John nuances these base concepts and contextualizes their application through experiential ethnography, developing their complex meanings through various contexts, personages and events under consideration as well as positioning conceptual developments within a tour-de-force reading of psyculture music and EDMC studies literature. My only regret with St John’s conceptual arsenal is that it has not been explicated further. Though Turner receives some attention, readers not familiar with the above figures will find themselves seeking context and illustration elsewhere.
St John calls his ethnographical approach that of the “socionaut”, whereby participant interviews but also immersion in the field with the musical and social fabric of psychonautical experiencing is interwoven with media studies approaches to electronic music and art. In short: without judgement or moralism, entheogens are ingested, described and reiterated as integral to the force and form of psyculture belongings and experiences. The resulting textual blend is intoxicating, sometimes dizzying, and the densely packed style of the opening chapters can be a tad overwhelming even to those familiar with the literature and the psycultures at hand. But once St John settles into a mid-tempo groove, particularly in the memorable account of Portugal’s Boom festival—at ~25, 000 souls for seven days, the largest psytrance gathering in the world—his rapid accumulation of observations reveal a wealth of insights that, once unpacked, challenge what might be termed simplistic readings of psyculture, or EDMCs in general. St John challenges readings that would see psyculture as but a consumerist, nihilist or hedonist practice, and dismisses moralising tendencies that mask as critical scholarship. St John also ably demonstrates the uneven but exciting embrace of ecologically sustainable practices and collectivist and environmentalist political ideals by psyculture festivals like Boom.
St John is, indeed, quite critical of texts that are themselves critical of psyculture. While at times this approach is refreshing, it can lend itself to its own contradictions. I wish to turn to several crucial questions in St John’s text while recognising that I do so at the pain of glossing over substantial theorisations of “edge work” and the transformations of “ritual” practice within modern life that are intriguingly analyzed by St John as permutations upon (Turner’s) “post-liminal liminality” (163). Global Tribe is ambitious in its efforts to outline and delimit psyculture’s alternate dreamworlds and collective fantasies of ideal belonging. By immersing himself into the festival-traveller matrix without reserve, and by embracing a shift away from a moral limit towards a physical one (310), St John does not shy away from contemplating the abyssal search for greater meaning in our planetary-bound existence. If I now turn to problematics of race and gender, Orientalism and neocoloniality, it is to raise issues that often trouble the whole of EDMC studies and not just St John’s socionautic approaches to psyculture.
St John defines his ethnographic approach as attending to the complexities of the unfolding event, emphasizing the participant diversity of psyculture as resisting grand narratives. The incommensurability of multi-perspectival subjectivities is utilized to denounce theoretical critiques of psyculture for the error of their “one dimensional discourses”. This boundary operation is particularly the case with St John’s critique of Arun Saldanha’s Psychedelic White: Goa Trance and the Viscosity of Race, a work that St John critiques as “empirically flawed race reductionism” (286).
Saldanha’s research focuses on the viscous grouping of white bodies in Goa as authenticating the subcultural experience of psytrance, arguing that “subculturally pure in Anjuna comes to mean racially pure” (2007: 127–131). For his part, St John critiques Saldanha’s ethnography, arguing that, contrary to Saldanha’s observations of early-morning dancefloors, Goan psyculture is more ethnically diverse and inclusive than Saldanha claims. But it is at this point that ethnographic observation faces the greater problematic of an institutional whiteness encoded in historical relations of power and privilege. Given the very nature, or rather, construct of “Goa” as a site of privileged exile for Western drop-outs—a point that St John readily acknowledges (73)—it would be amiss not to address the global role of white privilege in establishing (psytrance) traveller cultures. There is some irony to the fact that, in the era of anticolonial struggles and the Civil Rights movement, middle-classed Western whites undertook “elective exodus” from the “maladies of modern life” by jetting off to non-white “developing” countries (73). In a post/neocolonial country like India, where the maladies of modern life present more extreme manifestations than those of the West, white travellers exclusively benefit from a historically-troublesome socioeconomic privilege that underscores the exclusive mobility, or “freedom”, of the traveller—a figure that needs to be counterposed not just to the “tourist”, as St John suggests in his boundary work around psyculture, but to the refugee. Other privileges in psyculture remain on the periphery to St John’s analysis; thus the privilege of (white) males, as DJs and scenesters, is asserted in the otherwise absence of women in psyculture’s founding tales.
St John’s text also remains ambiguous as to the analytic value of the distinction between psyculture “travellers” and erstwhile “tourists”—especially when the “domestic tourist” stands in for Indian nationals visiting a scenic region of their own country. At times St John appears to champion the Deleuzean definition of “traveller” by Anthony D’Andrea (66)—global nomads whose “smooth space” is contrasted to the “striatic space of dwellers”—while elsewhere he points out how the concept blurs in “vertical/horizontal ‘lines of flight’” (332), as the distinction between tourist/traveller, nomad/dweller breaks down in practice (precisely because of privilege). Critics of Deleuze, such as Zizek, would point out that Deleuze’s concepts of flow (as embodied in the traveller-nomad) are not resistant to capitalist relations of exploitation but rather are the privileged conditions of them. The crucial issue, as reflected in the work of Saldanha, is that the psyculture distinction of tourist/traveller masks a hierarchy of racialisation that ensures the “subcultural purity” of the “Goan tribe” in what Sara Ahmed calls institutional whiteness. The issue is not that Goan psyculture today is specifically or totally white—Saldanha likewise acknowledges its diverse and multinational characteristics—but, as Saldanha writes, “most probably white. Hence psychedelics isn’t antithetical to white modernity” (2007: 6). In short, psyculture is, and like globalized (post)modernity, default white: it commences from the place of privileged whiteness and extends its hegemony. Like all such projects of white modernity, psyculture unavoidably exhibits what Edward Said called “Orientalist” attitudes of white tourism to the “exotic”. St John’s position is complex around these issues and far from antithetical to their points—he observes how “the trappings of tripping in the East continue to be deployed to make the hard sell” (332)—thus noting how psyculture is implicated within the “exoticism” of self-reflexive modernity and the very tourism industry that caters to and reinvents the figure of the traveller. At the same time, and understandably so, St John wants to substantiate the experiential claims of psyculture as undertaking an exodus that escapes something of (post)modernity’s racialized neocolonialism.
It is from an ethnographical and molecular stance (in the Deleuzean sense of studying dynamic masses instead of molar totalities) that St John critiques Saldanha’s ethnography for failing to recognize the ethnic plurality of psycultural bodies (66–71). For St John, Saldanha privileges theory over practice. However, the reciprocal relation between theory and practice raises the question as to how one practices theory, and theorizes practice. Saldanha carefully aligns his analysis within a Deleuzean, biomaterialist construct of racialized “viscosity”; a theory that St John praises for its innovation, though if so it begs the question as to why he doesn’t support its observations. For Saldanha, the problem is precisely that of theorising the observation of racialized phenomena: all is not what appears when observing the construct of race. It is theory that problematizes the observer. Saldanha, turning to the molecularity of race as it approaches the molar, points out how a kind of racialized flocking behaviour of whiteness—a “viscosity” of white bodies on the dancefloor, a clumping of whiteness—not just discourages nonwhite bodies from participating in psyculture, but performs the primordial state of its subcultural authenticity. Hence “psychedelic white”: a default-white-psychedelia that transcends the fact of diverse bodies (Saldanha 2007: 6). Saldanha argues that the fact of diverse bodies in psyculture does not make psychedelia, as the “mystical structure of feeling . . . epitomized in the sixties cult of LSD,” any less of a white cultural project (6). Whiteness is the metaphysics of modernity that schematizes embodied privilege in psyculture.
Countering Saldanha’s claims, St John cites scholarship contending that there are Indian DJs, promoters, “diasporic insiders” and “revered sadhus” (67) in Goan psyculture. Yet—and perhaps here we need to raise the question of Gayatri Spivak’s “native informant”, that name for the mark of expulsion from the ethical subject of humanity—nowhere in Global Tribe do we hear the words and stories of nonwhite psyculture participants. Their narratives are not included alongside those of their white, Western, male progenitors, from DJ Laurent to Goa Gil to Eight Finger Eddie. If Indians are indeed prominent within the Goan scene—as other scholars such as D’Andrea assert—then why are they not also prominent within the ethnographic text, their accounts woven into the history of Goan psyculture, the cadence and rhythm of their voices granted recognition? In the ethnographic field as a whole, there remains a lacunae: a comprehensive account of Goan DJs and saddhus, scenesters and locals, but also Indian visitors, tourist operators and spectators—all those others classified as but “tourists”, not real “travellers”—remains to be seen.
The erasure or rather pronounced colouring of race is—as it often is—entwined with that of protecting (white) female bodies from the Other. Here, gender arises as the troubled site of predation. St John cites an account—entitled “Women of Goa” by the anonymous internet handle Lava 303—of how “predatory domestic tourists” (read: non-white Indians) often harass white women. As St John rightly points out, the “ever-present threat of sexual assault” is not “intrinsically Indian (or racial)” (67). Yet, neither Lava 303 nor St John address that such misogyny is faced by not only white women, but all women, and overwhelmingly by women of colour. By just pointing out violence against white women in Goa, the threat of sexual assault that Indian women face daily is left unaddressed (as is Goa’s sex tourism industry). Lava 303’s account also singles out Israelis for “special attention,” charging that they treat Goa like “their new colony . . . another Promised Land” (in St John 2012: 67). Here, again, is an exception within an exception: why is it that Israelis are singled out but not the Westernized “travellers” who first made Goa into a promised playground for Western fantasies of an exotic Eden?
Something of this question is addressed in chapter seven of Global Tribe, in what might be deemed St John’s “critical turn” towards problematic aspects of psyculture in Israeli and Australian (though not Goan) case studies. Various languages and mechanisms of exclusion (in the case of Israel) and indigeneous appropriation (Australia) are discussed, as well as critiques of Israeli psyculture “enclaves” that exhibit neocolonial role-playing (236). Here, “elitism” signifies the hierarchial ordering between insiders/outsiders as travellers/tourists. As St John writes, “ethnic-oriented identifications . . . reveals elitism internal to psychedelic tribalism, where the freak ethos of a ‘global tribe’ competes with the realities of ‘tribal boundaries’ maintained through ongoing acts of distinction” (245). I believe this is a much needed statement, and that its framework demands to be rethought in the context of psyculture’s historical and global project, beginning with the site of its mythical origin in Goa. Also, the ability of “elitism” to encompass the problematics of race, gender and coloniality above is uncertain. In Global Tribe, “elitism”everywhere stands in for intersectional privilege—a phrase that bell hooks would amplify to “white supremacist capitalist patriarchy”. At the very least, elitism is understood as the convergence of racialisation to gender-inequality in the context of neocolonial relations, and as such, remains somewhat inadequate as an analytic signifier.
St John’s emphasis in Global Tribe is on the experiential and the diversity of individuated trajectories as undermining a totalising critique that would obliterate such differentiations. Psycultural subjectivity is, for St John, simply too many to be ascertained in one conceptual schema. Pointing out the numerous possible experiences of the Western traveller, St John acknowledges that some, but not all “other [travellers] devoured the imaginary (Oriental) other in orgies of consumption, while excluding domestic Indians from the party” (69). Yet while acknowledging such exclusion, St John rejects Saldanha’s observations of Goa as embodying, in its viscosity of psychedelic white, precisely this statement.
While psyculture travellers today include “passport holders from many countries” (201), telling assumptions as to a default Westernized psyculture are everywhere produced. In the closing chapter, St John quotes a musician describing how his sonic desire is to “rendezvous with the exotic, being intimate with the authentic experience”, what St John elsewhere analyzes as the Orientalist aesthetics of psytrance that sample—some would say appropriate—“Eastern and native imagery” (332). In another moment, a psyculture reveller describes the marginalisation of the psytrance stage at the 2009 Symbiosis festival, writing that: “Very segregated, I almost felt like a black man, in the 50s at this party” (277). Such offhand but telling quotes, as well as the troubled use of “ethnodelic”, signal an unthought default-white privilege that appropriates as well as exoticizes the Other.
In a carefully writ but defensive section, St John seeks to explicate psyculture’s Orientalism, an aesthetics that is all-too-prevalent to anyone that has seen psytrance album covers and their multi-coloured buddhas, shivas and rainbow saddhus. However, St John concludes that “while Goatrance has been demonstrated to have had an aesthetic romance with Orientalism, this story does not infuse its ‘neotribal’ mobilization” (69). Psyculture romanticizes Orientalism without being Orientalist; it is difficult to ascertain how the two can be kept apart. There is little critical value to an “aesthetics” if it is to be thought as distinct from the subjectivities of being-in-transit that articulate the ontologies and significations of belonging to psyculture. It is just as unclear how neotribalism escapes “aesthetic” neocolonialism; it cannot be described as entirely “off the grid” of neoliberalism, as St John otherwise contends (163). Psyculture is very good at consuming and selling lifestyle products designed to facilitate “the self [as] a project, revisable and upgradeable” (172), products that sell you “freedom of choice” (162), the latter a tenet of psyculture anda classical tenet of (neo)liberalism.
That Orientalism impacts more than aesthetics is also on view when discussing the figure of the “primitive” in psyculture, or what St John calls the “soft primitive” as the “visage of the Aboriginal, Amerindian or Amazonian invented as a figure of primal unity” (206). In other discourses, such inventions have been known by the term noble savage. In a brief few sentences—and again, one wishes there was simply more on what are troubled topics—St John mentions his attendance at Germany’s “Indian Spirit Festival”, which has “typically deployed totem poles, dream catchers and feathered head-dresses to promote and decorate its vibe” (206). Thieving cultural artifacts from the Other to heighten the white vibe has its canonical representations. Yet St John asserts the complexity of the practice, noting that “when I attended the 2010 edition of Indian Spirit and anticipated a galaxy of Amerindian signs consumed by crowds ravenous for the primitive, my expectations were not met, and could not determine attendance as evidence of one’s complicity in neocolonial practice” (206). How these “ravenous” neocolonial expectations were not met is left unclear. What would meet such expectations if attendance at a festival complicit with cultural appropriation is not enough? The title alone signals the trappings of neocoloniality: no “ravenous” displays are needed if thieving the other’s cultural artifacts as fashion-accessories is normalized. It is here that a structural contradiction resonates from an unexplicated ethical assumption: why is it perfectly acceptable for European whites to stage racialized appropriations of Other cultures, but not for India’s “domestic tourists” to watch (with amusement, no doubt) the half-naked, high whites dancing to trance music at Anjuna?
Even as St John is right to critique “one dimensional discourses” that would only situate psyculture as but an Orientalist project based upon a limited ethnographical encounter, the contradictions resulting from overstating this position suggest that an alternate approach might be found that incorporates the likes of Saldanha’s critical insights. Such a project would not need to deny psyculture’s (undeniable) radical exodus but would rather further it by accelerating escape velocity from psychedelic white. “Goa” is constructed out of a history of white traveller privilege that is at odds with the transformational values of the Other cultures that psyculture exoticizes and appropriates. In other EDMC festival cultures, critical moves have been made to counteract such appropriations, based upon consultation with local indigenous populations (such as Canada’s Bass Coast Festival banning “Indian headdresses” in 2014).
When unbound from white privilege, psyculture catalyzes what St John calls a collective “being-in-transit” that abandons ethnonationalist constraints, turning instead to the dreamdancing of cosmic community. Yet this radical abandonment takes as its condition of possibility the ongoing globalization of (white) privilege, one which, if effaced for the purposes of championing exodus, only results in recoding its radical project as (yet another) institutional whiteness. In handling these complex issues around EDMCs, St John offers a provocative, detailed and insightful reading of psyculture that—like the best texts written from the most challenging conditions of the field—poses more questions than it answers.
Saldanha, Arun. 2007. Psychedelic White: Goa Trance and the Viscosity of Race. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.