I Asked 20 Ravers At The World's Biggest Rave What They Do For A Living In The "Real" World, And I Did Not Expect These Answers
My name is Pernell, I'm over 30 years old, and I'm still a raver — been doing it since I was 16. Last week, I dusted off my totem sign and made it out to EDC, Electric Daisy Carnival, in Las Vegas. It's the largest electronic dance music festival in the world, and this year, over 500,000 people came. Attitudes toward EDM drastically shifted in the last decade; it was only in 2010 that Los Angeles banned Insomniac's EDC, prompting the festival's move to Sin City and a national fight over the future of large-scale electronic festivals in the country. Ravers aren't strangers to scrutiny. Since we're often misunderstood, I embarked on an EDC pilgrimage to interview my fellow ravers and learn more about their lives outside the dance floor.
I asked everyone I met about their day jobs, their salaries, and the raver stereotypes they have beef with. Here's what 19 headliners (and one world-famous DJ) revealed to me under the electric sky, along with the cartoons I drew of them in exchange for their honesty:
Note: Some names and identifying details have been altered for anonymity.
"I used to be in the metal scene, and that's already a community that looks out for its own. That's even truer for the EDM scene. People aren't snooty. They're super welcoming, and won't hesitate to help when they can.
I haven't been to EDC since its first year in Las Vegas in 2011. I'm here with my girlfriend after a friend of ours gifted us with tickets at the last minute — we just found out yesterday we were coming. Kind of feels like a homecoming in a way."
"A lot of us are here to just spread love. Are there drugs? Sure. But that's not an exclusive thing to EDC or raves. Raves are community."
"This is the only place I feel like I can be myself. Honestly, this was the event that helped me come out of my shell. I used to be so much more reserved. There's an openness and acceptance that's really strong here. This feels like home.
I try to pass on that feeling to everyone I meet, and carry it into my life outside of here, especially to my students I work with."
"When I come here, I don't feel like there are limitations to what I can do. I can just be as, you know, creatively open and progressive as I want to be. And the audience is really receptive to that. I'm inspired every year by this place.
Even tonight, I don't have much of a set plan at all. I have a folder with 100 tracks put in, and I don't know where I'm going. I know the first track I'm playing, and after that, I have no idea. I'll be truly DJing. Tonight, I want to go with what I'm feeling. And I'm curious where that's gonna lead me.
I mean, just look out at that view. It's insane. It's midnight, and the speedway is just glowing with hundreds of thousands of people. So, if you can't be inspired by this, then I don't know, you might be dead inside."
"We're twins who love to rave! It feels like people outside the scene think we only come here to do drugs. In reality, we also come here because it's a place we can be ourselves. We can dress however we want, and people are open to it.
It's a special place. It can be a little expensive, but you just have to experience it once to understand why we'll be back next year. And the year after that!"
"I still remember when Pasquale, the founder of Insomniac and EDC, used to stand outside my high school in Hollywood and pass out fliers for his warehouse raves. This was back in the '90s when I was a student.
Things have changed a lot since then. I grew up on techno, though more into head-banging now. I'm also a rave mom now, but only because of my age — I look out for my rave kids, but I also teach them to take care of their own needs. That's a part of who I am.
Before this year, I used to be a social worker. I was making over $70,000 a year. I almost died from COVID, and that taught me money isn't what I want out of life. I want to be here, and I want to experience everything."
"I've been sober raving for four years now. I actually really recommend every raver try it at least once, and see how it changes the experience for them.
For a huge chunk of last night, I was outside by the exit passing out fliers for future Insomniac events. Promoting is a huge part of my life, and how I met my rave family. I've been on the Insomniac street team for a few years now, and I'm now planning to move out to Nevada in the next few years and do this full-time."
"I feel lucky to be here. I'm a video editor for a YouTuber, they're here on the guest list, and I'm tagging along. Everyone is so chill here. And friendly. I mean, I came for the free Ring Pops, and now we're chilling in your tent.
This is my first rave, and it won't be the last. Life's only going up from here."
"I just want people to know that we're not being irresponsible out here. It feels like people mostly have each other's back, minus the few exceptions. This is my first time here, and I've never felt so celebrated." —Anthony
"And even if people are taking drugs while they're here, it's not like people are out of control or walking around zombies. I haven't seen that at all. We handle our shit.
Also, it's cool for me to be here and see what I already do on a much larger scale. I operate the tech for a small show in downtown Las Vegas. It's inspiring to see how massive my job can get." —Javi
"The scene has changed a lot, and so has EDC. There's definitely been a huge drop in common decency among the crowd since it's so packed now. And there are a lot more frats and sororities present than just a few years ago.
If anything, it's made us both kinder and more passionate about keeping the old rave spirit burning. EDC's going to keep changing. But its history doesn't have to."
"We've all been in the rave scene for over a decade, with the exception of Chelsea. It's her third EDC. She's our rave baby.
The general public had this weird, distorted image of ravers, and it wasn't even that long ago. To outsiders, we were drug-obsessed, selfish, deadbeat assholes. That's so not true! We respect the space and each other. We offer water, even tampons, to each other. We look out for one another.
And we also work hard so we can be here — I mean, we're all from DC. All of us have high-responsibility jobs. We also like to have fun."
"I'm here from Texas. EDC feels like a getaway, in the best way. I've been raving for six years now, and have been an energy healer since 2018. I'm sure people have their stereotypes of what we're like, but I don't see those. Or pay attention to them."
"We don't all do drugs."
[Sees a "Legalize Cocaine" flag right behind us.]
"Except for that guy."
My final takeaway: All are welcome at EDC, but it's not for everyone. As the world's biggest rave, it gets overwhelming and expensive. One-third of the 19 ravers I spoke with make $60,000 or less per year; general admission tickets cost about $500, and one person in a four-person group can expect to pay $600 or more for lodging at camp or a hotel stay. I unforgivably paid $2,000 to tent solo at Camp EDC. Why the hell would ravers shell out a minimum of $1,000 in one weekend? Well, the lawyers, health policymakers, teachers, and servers of EDC share something in common: They feel at home here. They don't feel judged, and that's important to a raver's spirit. That palpable feeling of belonging to something beautiful surged in me as I descended the bleachers toward the glowing speedway sparkling in the night. And from someone who's only getting older and lonelier, you don't just put prices on things like that.
