Capturing the chaos: what the evolution of rave says about our cities

It is tempting to see that as the inevitable fate of anything genuinely new. Culture moves in cycles. What begins as underground energy eventually becomes mainstream, then nostalgic. Punk became heritage. Street art became high art – just look at Banksy’s pieces, which now sell for £18.582 million. Now, rave culture that once thrived on being unlicensed and unapologetically rebellious is suddenly part of the establishment.

But there is something more interesting going on underneath. Rave’s transition from the dancefloor to the gallery isn’t just about time passing and those ravers getting older, settling down and wanting a night in. It’s about ownership, control and how society deals with anything that grows too unpredictable. What started as people taking over space and shaping it for themselves has been reinterpreted as a cultural product to be consumed.

That pattern is familiar to anyone working in the built environment. Cities evolve by absorbing new ideas and influences. Areas that once felt overlooked or underused often become celebrated for their creativity and character. Over time, that energy attracts attention, investment and change. The challenge is finding a way to nurture growth without losing the spirit that made those places special in the first place.

For communicators, that raises some uncomfortable but important questions. When we tell the story of a place, whose version are we telling? And at what point does storytelling become sanitising? It is easy to fall back on language that makes every project sound polished and cohesive, but the truth is that cities are rarely neat. They are layered, contradictory, full of tension and change. The most thoughtful storytelling recognises those layers and lets a place feel real, rather than perfect.

Rave culture survives because it finds space to exist. It adapts, relocates and reshapes itself wherever people are free to gather and express themselves. That sense of freedom is essential to any place that wants to feel alive. Cities need to make room for creativity to happen naturally, where people can use space in ways that feel personal and authentic. Expression cannot be designed to order, but we can design and manage places that allow it to thrive.

There are many examples of this being done well. Across the country, new places are being created where communities can come together, perform, exhibit and celebrate what makes them unique. Involving local people in that process, from planning to storytelling, helps make sure those spaces feel open and shared rather than prescribed.

It is not about choosing between art and nightlife, or between formality and freedom. The best places find a balance, creating room for galleries, dance floors and everything in between. When people are given the chance to shape how a place is used, it becomes part of their story, not just part of the skyline.

For those shaping and communicating places, the opportunity lies in learning from that same sense of openness. The most successful places give people the freedom to shape their own experiences, to take ownership and to add new layers of meaning over time. Good communications can help that happen, not by fixing a story in place but by creating one that invites people in.