CHANGCHUN, China -- Crouch through the small metal door and walk down the dark tunnel, and even before you step into the abandoned air raid shelter, the air reverberates with pounding techno beats. Young Chinese holding booze and cigarettes shake and sway in a red-lit passageway, below a big screen rolling through quotations from Chairman Mao. This is an underground rave in China, part of a subculture growing in hidden corners of the nation’s cities, even as its political and cultural mainstream grow increasingly controlled, staid and predictable.
For Chinese ravers, these gatherings — often called “ye di,” or “wild dances” — not only offer a rare space for unfettered fun, but signal resistance to the narrowly prescribed future a rigid society expects for them. By day, Xing Long works in the office of a state-owned company in Changchun, an industrial city in China's northeastern rust belt region. By night, he’s a DJ and underground rave organizer, a side gig that offers an escape from the humdrum of reviewing corporate contracts.
“My job cannot make me feel I fulfilled my values,” he said. “Going to work is like executing a prewritten program.” Chinese young people face intense pressure and high expectations from the society around them.
In recent years, facing bleak economic prospects, Chinese youth culture has been swept by a series of viral slang terms to describe frustration and hopelessness: “ 996 ” — the brutal 9 a.m. to 9 p.
m., six days a .
