In more psy­che­del­ic moments, you could start see­ing it like William Burroughs’s “undif­fer­en­ti­at­ed tis­sue”, indi­vid­u­als and groups splurg­ing togeth­er into a dis­turb­ing, incom­pre­hen­si­ble, ecsta­t­ic mass — but even with a bit more clar­i­ty it was a bit that way. Stu­dents, new age trav­ellers and hooli­gans, b-boys and Psy­chick Youth, per­son­nel from gay clubs and from reg­gae soundsys­tems, poshoes and scrotes real­ly were all rav­ing under one roof, and cru­cial­ly were bring­ing their own skills and ener­gies to play. The kalei­do­scop­ic look, feel and sound of rave were all com­plete­ly tied up with that sub­cul­ture clash, that pulling togeth­er of seem­ing­ly irrec­on­cil­able forces by the greater force that it seemed was tak­ing over every­thing.