A real story of Leucanthemum

 Towards Leucanthemum (Leontyne)—a Sidney SN mix—I once had words for real things that happened. But in the shadow of this mix, something entirely different can exist than the happiness someone felt at a Dutch festival. The inspiration for this Sidney SN mix could lie in different realities. 

Leontyne can be a girl who lives in a space between realities. She can visit the human world as a ghost, but she cannot exist in the world as a physical being. Her deepest desire is to share a relationship with one person. Yet she cannot realize this longing, because she has no physical form. 

She is like a prisoner, living as a leucanthemum. She is as beautiful as a leucanthemum, as peaceful as a leucanthemum, she sways gracefully in the wind like a leucanthemum— but like the flower, she cannot move of her own will. 

And the one, maybe the one can just observe this beautiful flower: the way her hair moves with the wind in the stillness of a sorrow. But a quiet truth burns within the one’s heart: The one searching for a way to set their desires to be possible.

Disillusion: A End of the Realization

 Recently, I read about an operation where seemingly probably (almost) every attendee at a free tekno party in Czechia was subjected to police drug control. 

The results reportedly confirmed what many already suspected. I see the police visitor controls at free tekno events in Czechia as a kind of success. These operations have the potential to shut down the biggest (— adjusted for population size, Czechia has the largest) free tekno raving in Europe. And the reason lies in something fundamental to the culture of these events: drugs— narcotics. 

For many in the free tekno scene, the presence of narcotics is not just common—it’s central. Without the free space for narcotics, the very essence of what free tekno has come to represent for its participants begins to fall apart. In the world of free tekno, the unwritten rule seems to be: No narcotics, no rave. And when that is broken—when the risk becomes too high—the free tekno existence as it exists today can’t continue. 

It might actually be a good idea these kinds of controls at all free tekno raves—because such pressure has the potential to shut down the free space for narcotic using. If these drug checks become routine, free tekno persons will become angry or disillusioned, simply because they can no longer “realize” themselves in the way they’re used to.

No one question on the stages

 I started researching how Russian drum & bass artists responded to the war in Ukraine—especially after seeing the backlash against techno and house artists like Nina Kraviz, for example, who was heavily criticized for staying silent. What surprised me, though, was that in the DnB scene, there was no such pressure—and I found no one statement from well-known Russian DnB artists; Artists with international bookings— Gydra, Cod3x, Teddy Killerz, Enei, Electrosoul System said nothing. 

I just know, after 2022, major UK-based DnB labels quietly distanced themselves from Russian artists. For example, noticeable absence of Russian names in releases, tour lineups, livestreams, and promo channels. For example, Enei, once a face of Critical Music, is now just… gone, I think. It’s not cancellation—it’s quiet disengagement. 

When I look outside the DnB, the contrast is immediate. In techno—particularly among Russian-born artists—the response has been far more pronounced. For example, Nina Kraviz, techno’s star, faced enormous backlash for her silence, including cancelled gigs and an industry-wide reckoning. In contrast, artists like Dasha Rush and Machine Woman, for example, took a stand: condemning the war, calling out authoritarianism, and standing with Ukraine. 

For example, I’ve liked Nina Kraviz’s music for many years, and when she faced rejection for staying connected to her place of birth—because, I think, she try to preserve something from her culture—I felt quite confused during that time of backlash. I never questioned Nina Kraviz’s identity, and for me, there are no borders in techno, because techno, at its roots, is an international culture. For me, Nina Kraviz belongs to the international spirit of techno music. And during hates towards Nina Kraviz, I was confused because before I had no one thoughts about it all. For me, she was just a good house-techno music producer, no matter on her born place. 

I think — before the war, whether on stages itself, enjoying, in the raw reality from a Russian artist, was something almost no one questioned. When the war began, man was genuinely confused. Nothing used to be a problem, and suddenly, I’m expected to rethink everything. An artist — a terrorist? Maybe someone, somewhere, even broke silence over their feelings about it on a livestream itself. But in drum and bass, I found nothing — no space where such questions could even be asked. In other genres, artists seem to confront these things, to search for our answers. In DnB, it’s like silence.