Everyone has a WhatsApp group that makes them happy. I have three. They’re called Dance-Chance, Mercury Rising (after a DJ night in Ibiza) and Dance Witches. On them various female friends, including two I met when my now 18-year-old son started primary school, share details of any event we hear about that might present the opportunity for us to go dancing (or “raving”, as I like to describe it).
I am 55, and some might say that clubbing at my age is a little undignified. I call it therapy. For even though I also enjoy more “age-appropriate hobbies” such as gardening and tennis, nothing improves my mood and sense of self more than losing myself on a dancefloor, immersed in the beats of an expert DJ set. It is freeing, joyful, in the moment.
Research by psychologists at the University of Leeds suggests that this need of mine is indeed quite common. A study recently published in the journal Psychology of Music found that women aged 40-65 are turning to dance nights based on EDM (electronic dance music) for a boost to their mental health. The women say dancing helps them to release stress and reconnect with themselves, with 65.9 per cent describing raving as “spiritual” and 62.9 per cent calling it “an escape”. Their enjoyment is about community and tapping into a different version of themselves, as well as being a physical workout.
Bridget HarrisonChris McAndrew for the times
The NightTime Industries Association reports that it’s not just the young who go to nightclubs — 41 per cent of dance music fans aged 45 and over say they go clubbing once a month. In this age group it really does seem to be a female thing, in my experience.
Our partners are happy to see us heading off to a club at 11pm but they definitely don’t want to join us. Maybe that is because women enjoy the camaraderie of being on a dancefloor in the way men might watch football in the pub or run a marathon, or whatever it is that helps middle-aged men to feel happy and connected.
Perhaps women of my age tend to be fitter, and we still enjoy the morale boost of dressing up to go out, if you call my go-to rave attire of a Vampire’s Wife minidress and trainers dressing up. Perhaps it is that at my age women tend to have stronger friendships than men, ones that sit outside long-term partners. But we’ve moved on from drinking wine and talking about potty training.
I suspect it’s mostly because of the theory oft-quoted on Instagram that women of my age “give zero f***s”. After many of us have slogged through the selfless years of parenting only to be presented with the consolation prize of the menopause and teenagers who ignore us, letting it rip on a dancefloor feels like the ultimate expression of me-time. Judge us if you like — we don’t actually care.
Of course you do have to enjoy a sweaty dance in the first place. My love of raving came from my student days at Manchester University in the early 1990s, when the city was at the epicentre of a dance music revolution. We enjoyed plenty of long, exhilarating nights that still bring me happiness to remember.
But this isn’t about reclaiming my youth. It’s about tapping into my true self, and into a love of dance music that I still feel defines me, even if there have been eras of my life when it has been less practical to enjoy it. For some of my female friends (including one who is now an award-winning drama director), it is about a deep, near 40-year cultural knowledge of dance music, from its beginning. For her, experiencing an expert DJ set in a venue with a brilliant sound system is akin to going to the Royal Festival Hall for a classical concert. Just like those who love jazz their whole life, why would we stop loving dance music?
At our age though, you need to have the stamina for and a continued enjoyment of being in the thick of people. My husband, who was once a Manchester Haçienda regular too, now would rather pull his own teeth out than find himself in a noisy room surrounded by hordes of strangers. For me, the energy of hundreds of people all seeking fun, music and connection feels as energising as it did when I was 20. It’s the reason exercise classes featuring rave music don’t do it for me. It has to be the real thing.
That said, I am certainly not out raving every week. If I pass a line of young people vaping away while queueing for a venue when I’m on the way home from the theatre, I’m delighted to be heading to bed. But once a month or so, if I have a quiet weekend and can afford a late night, if one of my friends has spotted a brilliant DJ playing — and we anticipate that the crowd won’t only consist of 20-year-olds in crop tops — we’ll check it out. We barely drink; we certainly don’t socialise with others. We’re absolutely not interested in pulling. We just go in, hit the dancefloor and let ourselves get lost in music, as Sister Sledge so aptly put it. I wake the next day feeling exhausted but well exercised and in a better mood with my family.
Our dancefloor adventures have kept my female bonds close too. As most “mum friends” have fallen away now our children are older, the women I rave with have become friends for life — through divorces, the deaths of parents, work crises.
When we go out together, we’re confident enough to be extremely fussy. The DJ has to be one we rate, the sound system at the venue top notch. We don’t do themed parties or “revival nights”. Today’s dance music is as good as it has ever been. And where I live in east London, plenty of nights attract older connoisseurs of EDM.
That said, if the crowd isn’t right we leave — and the advantage of age is that we can afford a fast taxi home. One recent trip to see the American DJ Ron Trent at Fabric lasted 30 minutes, thanks to unwanted male attention. We complained to the management because we’re confident enough not to tolerate such behaviour.
If we only see young people we leave too. Likewise, if the ravers are all our age — there’s no morale boost in feeling you are at an event just for middle-aged has-beens.
Our favourite venue is a huge queer club night in central London that not only features some of the best DJs on the planet but is where my small group make an incognito minority. (We go because we know a DJ playing there.) Here the men are friendly but entirely uninterested in us. It’s one of a growing number of clubs where phones aren’t allowed, which is exactly as it should be. The very best dancing is uninhibited, without judgment.
Indeed, research has found that it may reduce your chance of getting dementia. This is because it combines aerobic movement with cognitive and sensorimotor demands. Essentially, dancing is mental multitasking, plus a cardiovascular workout that’s great for balance, lower-body strength and mobility. So, not such an age-inappropriate activity after all.