Brighton based, Irish-Lebanese artist Bklava teamed up with London based club-kid newcomer, ABSOLUTE. on ‘Fired Up (ABSOLUTE. Edit)’ – and there is no holding back on this high-octane, break-beat piano banger. On the single, Bklava lends her distinctive, sugar-sweet vocals to ABSOLUTE.’s rave-ready production with a track that’s crying out for a laser-filled dancefloor. This incredible collab is the follow up to Bklava’s recent electronic pop-bops ‘Hot Shot’, ‘Back to Then’, her huge remix for Diplo and Sonny Fodera ‘Turn Back Time’, and ABSOLUTE.’s ‘Fauna’. ‘Fired Up (ABSOLUTE. Edit)’ is just a taster of what’s to come during what is set to be a massive year for two of clubland’s most exciting rising stars. Hit play and read each of their personalised Love Letter to the Rave below.
Thank you. Thank you to the rave gods that have looked out for me; right from my very first proper clubbing experience, in a converted church in Devon, amongst the pounding techno and hardcore, I met one of my best friends, we met because another friend thought she was Kylie (we were a little wavy). We’re still best friends to this day (almost decades later) lifelong friendship made on the dance floor.
I remember jaunting up to London for DTPM at Fabric, my first queer party with underground music, the first time I heard people fully cheering to music in a club, those goosebumps! Then I came across the underground queer scene in East London and felt like I’d found my crew, my chosen family. It was there I started my first weekly party with Larry Tee and was able to work solely on music and nightlife. I remember the excitement of getting into Boombox, the most notoriously difficult door to get through in London clubbing.
I keep dreaming about more magical moments at Glastonbury, hazy walks home from Bloc 9 as the sunrises after nights in the NYC Downlow, or hours dancing through the morning and day at Maceos with my favourite people, new and old; or lost magical days and nights in Panorama bar.
I miss hearing new music that compels me to create, and I miss the excitement and butterflies you get heading into a festival for the first time, bumping into people you love on the dance floor, creating new connections and friendships for life that are cemented at the afters. I miss the feeling of shared consciousness through music.
I miss carrying on, whooping and twirling in the DJ booth. I miss hugging people! I miss you!
When we go back, it’ll be a new era of nightlife, one of solid community, one of helping people, a new generation, a new start and one that I will be grateful for, forever xx
It’s 01:45 AM on a Friday; I’m scrolling through my playlist and stumble across all the biggest tunes of the last year that haven’t had their moment of glory and are yet to be heard and enjoyed in the club. I wonder if all these songs will be forgotten when the clubs reopen, and we will wish all of 2020 away like a bad smell and never want to be reminded by any part of it.
However, if it wasn’t for the last year of music, I’m not sure how I could have gotten through 2020. Trying to recreate that Friday feeling seemed almost impossible until
new music blessed my Bandcamp, Beatport or Spotify. With every track I heard, my mind would be transported to the club; I could envision a post-COVID Utopia, blasting out my latest finds to a crowd of sweaty 20 somethings all smiling back because they’re finally where they want to be.
If this last year has taught us anything, it’s to appreciate the little things in life, things that used to jar me, suddenly look a little bit more appealing. I’d find myself craving the moment my fresh creps get stepped on or the £10 single-shot getting spilt over my hand by a fellow raver and getting a face slap from the person with the long ponytail in front who is unaware of their surroundings. I wish to be pushed and shoved from all corners of the room and resort to standing on a platform on my own, finally feeling free and in my element, only to have my moment crushed by a security guard who’s telling me to come down because it’s not safe.
I miss leaving the club later than planned because you’re having the best time, but your mates bailed early on, and you’ve been stood outside the station for an hour waiting for the first tube home. You look like a mess riding on your ones while everyone heads for their daily commute.
When you’re finally home, you vow never to drink that much again until you wake up and you look back at all the photos and videos from the night before; you remember the motivational chat in the girls’ loo, the exchanging of tampons from strangers, the relationship advice and why you should DUMP HIM, all the smoking area conversations about the Earth’s atmosphere which reminds you to take out the recycling and switch your loo brush to bamboo.