A key event in the history of the Czech Republic was 1968’s Prague Spring, which saw the fight for the democratisation and decentralisation of the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic’s economy come to a head. It was in this context that I arrived in Prague at the generous invitation of Lunchmeat, overfamiliar with the UK club scene and excited to explore new horizons.įirst, a bit of historical context: the presence of communism’s ghost can be immediately felt in Prague, from the local cuisine to Stalin’s Monument-a location where people have thrown raves, where I heard somebody had recently died by falling. On a personal level, the naive belief which I had in the messianic power of rave culture to bring about a better society in 2019 was replaced by a comparatively pessimistic view of our coming together over music as something chaotic, unpredictable, and heterogenous-a lawless ritual-yet still something deeply important to our collective (un)becoming. Even moreso, perhaps we are left ambivalent-wondering why, in the midst of a global death toll surpassing five million, we engage in such risk-seeking behaviour in the first place, other than to simply “have a good time.” People often brought up the fact that Sophie had performed last year, passing on stories about her. If last year we were holding our breath about the future of life itself, let alone that of clubbing and live music, this year brought both a sense of relief at having survived, accompanied by a residual anxiety that we cannot take anything for granted. As stated in Inverted Audio’s 2020 review, while this was fully in accordance with Czech law, a certain apprehensiveness loomed in that the government could at any moment change their regulations and shut the whole thing down. Last year, in the midst of the pandemic, Lunchmeat made the bold decision to go ahead with its festival, masks and all. It was in this context that I arrived in Prague at the generous invitation of Lunchmeat, overfamiliar with the UK club scene and keen to explore new horizons.
On a personal level, the naive belief which I once had in the messianic power of rave culture to bring about a better society in 2019 was replaced by a comparatively pessimistic view of our coming together over music as something chaotic, unpredictable, and heterogenous-a lawless ritual-yet still something deeply important to our collective (un)becoming. Even moreso, perhaps we are left ambivalent-wondering why, in the midst of a global death toll surpassing five million, we engage in such risk-taking behaviour in the first place, other than to simply “have a good time.” At the festival, people often brought up the fact that Sophie had performed last year, passing on stories about her. If last year we were holding our breath about the future of life itself, let alone that of clubbing and live music, this year brought both a sense of relief at having survived accompanied by a residual anxiety that we cannot take anything for granted. WikiHow, “How to Get Into Berghain” (December 2020)
In this review, I hope to highlight some of the music and transdisciplinary arts on offer at Lunchmeat, to situate the festival within Prague’s cultural and historical milieu, and to encourage anyone considering-just do it. Within the oversatured tourist industry that is the European club scene, it is a hidden gem amidst the usual, well-trodden dancefloors that one sees time and again in the music press. However, scratch just beneath the surface of the city and you will find that it is home to a burgeoning scene of fresh-faced artists, DJs, underground venues and organisers. When it comes to underground electronic music, Prague may not the be first metropolis that comes to mind.