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It has never been easier to self-proclaim yourself a nightlife actor.
In just a few years, the electronic scene has seen an explosion of collectives, DJs, micro-media outlets, improvised programmers, Instagram curators, party organizers, booking and management agencies sometimes created in a matter of weeks, often without training, without structure, without real knowledge transfer.
This phenomenon is not an anomaly. It is the direct product of a scene historically built on DIY culture, autonomy and self-organization, combined with digital tools that have removed almost all barriers to entry. Today, an Instagram page, an online ticketing platform and a few connections are enough to declare yourself a “project,” a “collective,” a “media outlet” or a “platform.”
On paper, this could be excellent news. A more open, more horizontal scene, less locked by traditional institutions.
But this massive opening has also produced something more problematic: a world where amateurism has become the norm, and responsibility has not kept pace with access.
The night is not a neutral space
The night is not just a festive backdrop.
Numerous studies in urban sociology and cultural studies, particularly around night-time economies and club cultures, show that nightlife creates its own power dynamics. Power is concentrated in reduced spaces where access, visibility and recognition become extremely valuable currencies.
Who decides who gets into a club.
Who decides who plays, at what time, on which stage.
Who decides which artists are promoted, relayed, invited.
Who decides which sounds deserve to be heard and which remain invisible.
Sarah Thornton – Club Cultures: Music, Media and Subcultural Capital (1995)
“Club cultures operate through informal hierarchies where access, taste and visibility become forms of capital.”
These decisions are never neutral. They shape trajectories, build or destroy careers, and ultimately influence entire aesthetics. Yet they are increasingly made by people with no training, no ethical framework and little awareness of the impact their position carries.
The night thus produces its own figures of authority. Kings and queens of the night, sometimes very young, often highly visible, frequently intoxicated by a form of informal power that rarely names itself. In a context where work blends with partying, where decisions are made between drinks, where professional, friendly and emotional boundaries blur, these positions become particularly sensitive.
Research shows that in festive environments, power asymmetries are amplified by fatigue, substance use, social pressure and the scarcity of opportunities. This is not about “bad intentions,” but about structure.
Ben Malbon – Clubbing: Dancing, Ecstasy and Vitality (1999)
“In club spaces, the boundaries between work, pleasure and identity become blurred, producing intense but fragile social relations.”
When lack of training becomes a risk
The problem is not that non-degree holders enter the scene.
Electronic music was built outside of schools, conservatories and classical cultural institutions. Self-teaching is a strength.
But the total absence of basic training becomes an issue when it affects roles involving safety, mental health, conflict management, harm reduction, mediation, public communication or economic responsibility.
Media outlets with no journalistic ethics, confusing critique with promotion or personal vendettas.
Beginner managers engaging artists in unbalanced contracts, burning professional relationships or overexposing them too early.
Organizers unable to handle an assault, an overdose, a medical emergency or a serious conflict on the dancefloor.
Collectives reproducing sexist, racist or ableist dynamics they claim to fight.
In a scene without written rules, competence becomes the only real protection. When it is missing, the same people always pay the price: precarious artists, vulnerable audiences and marginalized communities.
Phil Hadfield – Nightlife and Crime (2006)
“Night-time economies concentrate power in the hands of a few actors, often in contexts of intoxication, fatigue and weak regulation.”
Money, visibility and the illusion of the dream job
Why, then, this obsession with being paid to party?
It would be hypocritical to deny the economic reasons. Electronic music is now a global industry generating billions. Some trajectories can be extremely lucrative. Visibility brings symbolic, social and sometimes financial capital. And yes, these activities require time, energy and real labor.
But digging deeper often reveals hybrid strategies, rarely acknowledged as such.
Content creators leveraging their audience to access bookings.
Media outlets existing mainly to obtain free access, travel or invitations.
Organizers programming themselves or their close circles (sometimes justified, sometimes not at all).
David Hesmondhalgh – The Cultural Industries (2019)
“Precarity and informal labor are often romanticized in cultural industries, masking real risks for both workers and audiences.”
Role confusion is not new in electronic music. It has always existed, sometimes productively. But at this scale, it becomes systemic. And when everyone uses their position to serve personal interests, the party turns into a placement market.
Angela McRobbie – Be Creative: Making a Living in the New Culture Industries (2016)
“Multiple roles in creative scenes are often framed as empowerment, but frequently lead to self-exploitation and diluted responsibility.”
The solution is not to close doors, nor to brutally professionalize a scene that thrives on experimentation and chaos.
But one path is becoming clearer: a partial, conscious professionalization.
Training without normalizing. Structuring without sanitizing. Transmitting without excluding.
This can take the form of accessible training in harm reduction, conflict management, media ethics and basic contracts. Of charters that are actually applied. Of clear recognition of roles and limits. Of accepting that not everyone can do everything at once.
Avoiding permanent urgency often prevents the gradual abandonment of values. Slowing down is not disappearing, and saying no to certain opportunities is not self-sabotage.
Howard Becker – Art Worlds (1982)
“Art worlds function neither through total freedom nor strict rules, but through shared conventions that make cooperation possible.”
Why the night still makes people dream
If so many people want to make a living from nightlife, it is also because the night remains a rare space of projection.
A place where meaning, collectivity and connection still seem possible. A space where, for a few hours, the world feels less normalized.
But this dream can only survive if the party stops being purely an individual springboard.
The night is not a backdrop. It is a shared space.
And being paid to party should never mean no longer being accountable to others.
Gill Valentine – Public Space and the Culture of Fear (2008)
“Spaces that appear informal or free often rely on invisible forms of regulation to remain safe.”