---

I got an e-mail the other day from my trancefather asking me what has happened to the once-booming after-hours party scene in Tokyo, and whether the steady increase in police harassment has had anything to do with it.

---

I know, some of you have asked yourself the same thing. Some of you couldn't care less. And some of you are scratching your heads with a totally different question -- "What's a trancefather?"

Let's answer the first group first, encourage the second group to care because it could be important, and as far as the third group, well, read on.

---

The psy-trance after-hours scene in Tokyo seems to have devolved into a less sophisticated creature than it used to be. Most organizers aren't too keen anymore to try to launch a "fresh party" in the mornings with a sure-win lineup confirmed far enough in advance to get fliers designed, printed and distributed in order to attract enough people hopefully to maybe break even. It's not really viable unless a core following can be established at a weekly or even monthly event at the same venue on the same theme using a pool of reliable local DJs.

Since the clubs and halls around Tokyo all jacked up their prices a couple of years ago, it's become harder and harder for smaller organizers to field something in their reach. And within the reach of the big crowds returning to Tokyo from the halls in Odaiba or Chiba, but out of the reach of overzealous MPD fishermen whose assignments in effect steer potential patrons not away from a certain venue but toward another. The end effect is of course the same.

Word gets out quickly if cops are harassing enough people merely walking in the direction of a club. Which is what happened in Shibaura to corral crowds toward Roppongi. (Velfarre must have been losing money on Sunday mornings, so something had to be done, I guess. Has that cesspool finally been shut down for good? I wonder what they'll find when they start digging up Roppongi's version of Golgotha, which by the way was full of skull imagery.)

In the meantime, larger organizers discovered that they could more easily piggyback on crowds in high-turnout areas just by offering up an A-lister or two who is already in town to carry over an existing party. The organizer takes on reduced responsibilities acting as a booking agent. The artist earns an extra gig. The club picks up most of the work, but stands to tidy up handsomely at the bar. Tack up a few posters, change a banner or two, and it's the official after-hours party. Win-win-win, really, for the artist, organizer and club, albeit on a smaller and unlevel playing field.

For the rest of us, it's a draw at best. The choice between any after-hours in sleazy Roppongi or a quiet coffee at home after a hard night on a Tokyo dancefloor is no choice at all. But that is what we have been left with for the time being.

---

And for the nagging question: Your trancefather, or trancemother. is the person(s) who introduced you to trance, usually the one who took you to your first trance party. Now, if you have no tranceparents and found our beautiful genre all on your own, this does not necessarily mean you are a bastard. The psychedelic community has a very liberal policy on this and will allow you to adopt the person(s) most responsible for your musical liberation.

It's no shame to have two tranceparents of the same sex, if, for example, one buddy introduced you to the music and another buddy was instrumental in getting you out to your first party.

If your tranceparents were an actual couple that is no longer together, then each tranceparent's new partner can be called a step-tranceparent, provided they can show proof of attending at least one open-air rave in the past 18 months, such as a wristband, ticket stub, embarassing party photo or movie, etc. Cheers!