The Depths of Trouw

            On the night of Friday, September fifth, Wiley introduced me to the world of Trouw. A world famous club known far and wide to the underground, Trouw is a club lover’s dark fantasy. The endless winding line of eager night animals hinted at the prowess of the DJ behind the decks that night. Jooris Voorn is born and raised in the Netherlands and currently resides in Amsterdam. Given that he has gained a massive following worldwide, his set for the home crowd held that much more potency. His productions consist of what is commonly referred to as a blend of Tech House and Detroit Techno. For those who aren’t particularly familiar with the sub genres of electronic music, these sounds carry a strong “four on the floor” bass-line with ambient underscores, stabbing samples, and futuristic “tech” inherent soundscapes. It is a sound fitting for a certain environment and mood, and this is where Trouw thrives. The club sports a world class sound-system found in other famous clubs like Berghain in Berlin and Output in Brooklyn. Tony Andrews, the founder of Funktion-One speaks of Dance music’s success being built upon bass and the fact that we have only had it pouring out of our speakers in an aurally pleasing way for the past several decades. It was formally only heard in “hazardous situations—for example, when thunder struck, or an earthquake shook, or from explosions caused by dynamite or gunpowder. That is probably why it is by far the most adrenaline-inducing frequency that we have.” This right here is the excitement factor…the allure involved with dance music, and techno in particular. It is why people wait in these long lines at such late hours in the night to get lost in the music.

            While it may sound like an ork breeding ground from some Lord of the Rings movie, Trouw proved to be every bit exciting and fulfilling as I had built it up to be. Upon finally being let in off of the seemingly endless line at around 2:30 am, we entered an underground area that seemed eerily and enjoyably familiar to the newspaper printworks it used to be. It gave off a potent yet casual message of we are here for the music, not for bottle service and thousand euro cover charges. The low frequencies of the impending bass-lines oozed out of the first floor room. With the come here motion of the forefinger it leads you in to the dark energy of everything that is techno. Brick pillars, minimal lighting, and ample space shaped an interesting atmosphere to smile, dance, and close you eyes amongst an ebbing and moving sea of like-minding others while being shrouded in darkness and frequencies. The room was outstanding, yet it wasn’t Joris Voorn. The best was yet to come and it was only a spiral staircase away. Interestingly enough, the sounds from each floor didn’t bleed into one another, which is an extremely important quality for a clubber when two sets occur in the same building.

            We made the journey to the main dance-floor to find a large-narrow room (relevant to its length) packed to the gills with dancing bodies. We danced while moving forward, irresistibly taking part in everything that was happening around us. Finally finding real estate behind the DJ booth, we looked up to the scene of the faces of the mass of people we had just waded through. We were above and behind the DJ booth, looking right through a spiral assortment of purple neon tube lights hanging above the crowd. To be part of an audience and be above and behind the DJ booth is something I have never experienced and something that is very rare to see in the United States. Jooris Voorn is very well respected, but he is not held up and observed like some ridiculously inflated celebrity. He produces music to make people happy and to transport them from existence while they dance their souls out. He doesn’t do it to stand above and beyond everyone else that is solely responsible for making him successful. Instead he is on level and among the audience. It is a give and take of passion that occurs at Trouw. It is all about the music and the good vibes, not about the celebrity and the flaunting of wealth and power. To this effect they strongly embrace the "what happens in Trouw, stays in Trouw" ethos with their no photos policy. I was entranced by everything about it, and couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy for the Europe club atmosphere. Why can’t it be more like this in the US, where it has instead become known for over-crowded dance-floors filled with sweaty, drugged-out dancer who “live for the drop?” It is unfair to criticize, but I have been to more than a few shows, and my niche lies in the Trouw scene, where music and environment comes before drugs, money, and celebrity DJ’s. It is no coincidence that trouw translates from Dutch to English as “loyalty." While I did gain a sense of loyalty to this wondrous playground of techno, sadly it will be closing at the end of the year for undisclosed reasons.On to the next journey and the next club to immerse myself in. Hopefully Berghain is in my future next fall!