"One of the most difficult aspects of the last 13 months has been the complete lack of sound systems, which define the spaces where I both forged and maintain my relationship with techno. Proper dancefloors cocoon you in sound, granting freedom of body, mind, and soul, allowing for a completely individual experience with music, even moments of transcendence, while surrounded by some abstract, shifting mixture of friends and strangers. Pandemic delivered the exact opposite of this freedom, with lockdowns and isolation, fear and anxiety.
7 months in, my memories of being enveloped by sound, anonymous in a crowd, felt so distant; my connection to this music I love so dearly was deeply eroded. Where it was once fun to DJ at home as a means to invoke the dancefloor, I could no longer summon those feelings; trying to play music for myself, alone, on small speakers, left me feeling disconnected and confused. Faced with creating a set for Samhain, a task I would normally welcome with joy, honor, and a sense of purpose, instead filled me with dread, apprehension, and a feeling of being hopelessly lost.
Putting this set together was the most difficult creative exercise I have ever engaged in, I never struggled so much in my life to DJ. I forced myself to listen through music, assemble a collection of tunes, and finally to record a set, doing my best to summon missing feelings and connect to the lost spaces that hold so much meaning. This experience was so troubling that it would be the last mix I made in isolation.
6 months later, vaccinations are beginning to become a reality, and while my beloved dancefloors are still a ways off, things feel much less hopeless than they did in the autumn. Listening back to this mix fills me with a deep yearning for what we are all missing, and also hope for our future. I look forward so incredibly much to the day we can dance together again!!! and I can't wait to see you all.
xo"
— @erikadotnet
