Dance till you drop: Why club culture is having a senior moment

Laser beams thread throughout a Wellington bar as dancers rave and wave their hands in the air to rhythmic, high-energy electronic dance music. The crowd is older than one might expect, but raving over the age of 40 is experiencing a major resurgence.

Behind the decks playing the tunes
is Michelle Harris. She was 40 in the 1990s. A part-time kindergarten teacher by day, by night Harris is DJ Halo. Approaching 90 decibels, and at 120 beats per minute, her music is loud and pulsating. Harris sports newly blue hair, piercings and tattoos.

At 67, this grandparent also has a SuperGold Card, which gives her discounted Uber rides home. She has been DJing for 26 years, and dancing since her teens. She loves the culture and the late-night socialising.

“I look forward to being with people, it’s like that whole oneness of being in the same space of mind,” she says. There’s a lot of social connection going on.”

When Harris was a bit younger – well, 60 – she became a teetotaller, and started running her own “Little Monsters” nights in Wellington’s licensed venues, collaborating with other DJs she got to know. She promotes them through social media as bringing “monstrous fun to the dance floor”. The emphasis is on the fun. Despite the name, drinking to excess or any form of harassment are not tolerated; these are safe, friendly spaces.

“The name was from the fact that I’m a kindergarten teacher, and you are not allowed to call children little monsters,” Harris explains.

Hal Cederholm on the decks, wife Jackie waves her hands in the air like she don’t care; top, Baz Bailey and friend Camilo Borges; bottom, Ramesh Premaratna (Ramz). Photos / Hayzelle Photography;Supplied

Many Gen Xers can’t imagine staying out well past midnight. Some Millennials can’t ether. If they want to hit the bars and nightclubs, it’s possible to relive their youthful clubbing experiences earlier in the evening so they can get their sleep. These nights are called Bed by 10.

But 10pm is when Baz Bailey goes out to connect with what he calls his “rave family”. They hit the dance floor to the hypnotic beats of psytrance, trance and techno, played by DJs.

Eight years ago, aged 56, Bailey saw a Little Monsters night promoted on Facebook and taking place at Champagneria. He’d never heard of the venue. At 10pm that Friday, after a Google search, he checked it out. He was hooked. He loved the loud music, the raving, the friendly vibe – and he met dozens of people, many of whom are now good friends.

“I’d never been to a gig like that. I started for health reasons. I was told I was dying – they told me I had cancer,” Bailey says.

Now 64, Bailey, still with cancer, can no longer party like it’s 1999 or even 2018. He used to get what he calls “raver’s knee” after a couple of hours, and started applying kostival, a special preparation he gets from the Czech Republic, that has helped. “Little by little my strength grew and next thing you know I was dancing with the best of them,” he says.

The crowds aren’t all geriatric; a minority are under 30.

“I get younger people coming up to say, ‘Excuse me, can we have a selfie?’” Bailey says. “And I say, ‘Why?’ and they say, ‘’Cause you’re so old.’

“I love it, and I’m at the age where I don’t give a damn what people think anyway.”

These night owls are less self-conscious than those in their 20s. They come from all walks of life: government workers, business owners, real estate agents – two used to work at Parliament, one as an MP. In larger regions such as Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch, many are well over 45.

The platters that matter: Michelle Harris with the wheels of steel – and possibly the knees of titanium. Photo / Hayzelle Photography

“A lot of people who hang out in the rave scene are quite intelligent, clever people. They work hard and they play hard. They are there for the music and the friendship,” Tony Murdoch says.

Murdoch owned popular Wellington record store The Soul Mine from 1985 to 2007, selling house music and hip-hop. These days, and now in his 60s, he’s a bit of a smooth quiet raver and loves making friends late at night.

“I’ve always been a dancer, but I don’t dance as much as I used to,” he says.

He keeps flexible by doing yoga daily. He has also occasionally performed as DJ SuperTone. He loves it.

“It’s the most creative thing I’ve ever done. I’ve got a style that people seem to like. I’m into the groove, I’m living my best life,” he says.

He’s not the only one. Jackie Cederholm loves raving and dancing – and going to festivals. She has a device that counts her steps as she keeps fit well into the early hours. “I probably do a half marathon some weekends,” she says.

That’s about 30,000 steps. Not bad for someone in their late 50s. Cederholm also says going out like this is great for community and social connection. “It’s incredible for mental health, too. I’ve never felt so good in my life. I have managed to maintain a good weight, and I don’t worry what people think of me.”

They come from all walks of life: government workers, business owners, real estate agents – two used to work at Parliament, one as an MP.

Dave Crampton

Cederholm’s husband Hal, 66, runs his own business, and looks forward to reconnecting with friends as he DJs throughout the country. He likes welcoming first timers who may have experienced club culture when younger, with its bouncers, pre-drinking and sometimes unruly behaviour – all of which are generally absent from the scene he’s in.

“I think a lot of people who go for the first time are quite surprised at what they find, and surprised at how inclusive the people are,” he says, “They are blown away because it’s so different to what they are used to.”

As weekend night owls, although not every weekend, the Cederholms value this culture. It’s a safe place. They cite values of peace, love, unity and respect, or PLUR.

“That’s what attracted me to the scene in the first place,” Ashwyn Sathanatham, 41, says. “It’s about people getting out of the riff-raff of life and into a nice non-judgmental environment, and that’s what makes the scene quite special.”

Arriving in New Zealand from India to attend university, Sathanatham took up DJing in 2001. As well as dance parties and raves, he runs Bollywood nights, which are high-energy DJ events centred around Indian culture. At least 30% of patrons are older than him; some started going to nightclubs before he was born. While he is a self-employed data specialist, after hours his business, 3333 Events and Productions, organises and tickets high-decibel trance and psytrance music events throughout the country.

“I will do it for as long as I’m able to. I thought it may slow down, but it’s not, it’s just getting madder,” he says. “There are some younger people who come, and they are having just as good a time as people of their parents’ age.”

In Auckland, Ramesh Premaratna (aka Ramz), 41, DJs every couple of weeks. From Sri Lanka, he started in 2008. A graphic designer by trade, he runs progressive trance music events of up to 180bpm through his Lost in Sound brand. It’s so named because people go to his events to escape from daily life and “to get lost in the music, the drops, the lasers and the lights”.

Ashwyn Sathanatham, right, and Mark Goston at the Lost Tapes party, Wellington, 2025; “Uncle” Stu Lister sees in the New Year in Wellington, right. Photos / Hayzelle Photoraphy;Supplied

Eighty per cent of his crowd are older than 30, many over 45.

“We all grew up together, we are all getting older together, so we are all moving forward together – they’ll have a good night, go home safely at 3am, and come back,” he says. “There are plenty of people who become lifelong friends. They go on lunches outside of the events.”

Stu Lister, from Rotorua, is one of them. He travels to other cities to attend high-decibel trance music events with his friends. He has been clubbing since the early 1980s. “We just haven’t stopped. There’s no reason to stop,” he says.

The rave family, as many of those involved refer to the group, call him Uncle. He’s among the country’s oldest ravers – he turns 70 next year – and recognises the benefits of socialising and keeping active. He has even done some DJing.

“My neighbours think it’s a hoot. I haven’t come across anybody who has said, ‘Oh what are you doing that for? You silly old fool.’”

Lister loves dancing but can’t stay on his feet for too long. “I love to sit and dance. I call it couch dancing. I know I’m not going to be able to stay on my feet for five or six hours.”

A 47-year-old who has been clubbing since the 1990s is public servant Meleanie Walker. Her workmates know of her involvement in the scene but have no idea some nights she doesn’t get home until after 3am. She intends to maintain her late-night, high-energy lifestyle, in what she calls a safe environment with a good vibe, well into her later years.

“I’m one of these rave-to-the-grave people,” she says. “I’ll be going to raves with my zimmer frame.”

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