Change is the Only Constant - The Indy Goth-Industrial Scene

[Doug]

STORY AND PHOTOS BY PAUL F. P. POGUE
http://www.nuvo.net

I pledge allegiance to all things dark and dire
. This one's always a hit on the dance floor at
Goth-industrial nights around here. "When
You're Evil," by Voltaire. Don't let the grim lyrics
fool you; it's not that serious a song. While
there's children to make sad, while there's candy
to be had: It's the sort of gleefully warped song
that demands faux theatrics and overblown
waltzes on the dance floor. It neatly sums up the
odd mixture of whimsy, spookiness, darkness
and attitude that makes up Gothic-industrial.
Thursday night at the Fusion nightclub, 603
E. Market St.: Darwin's Theory, the only weekly
event in Indianapolis currently catering to the
Gothic-industrial crowd. The event is named for
evolution of the scene, according to co-organizer
DJ Mister E, and evolution has certainly been
a theme all along. From the early industrial
nights at the Patio in 1989 through the seminal
Razor and Twitch events, and a hyperactive
period in 2000 and 2001 when four events a
week were common, the Gothic-industrial
scene has struggled to find its place in this city.
Darwin's Theory is not the only Goth-industrial
event around; Kameleon and the Melody
Inn, among other places, host occasional
nights. But it's currently the most consistent,
with solid attendance every Thursday night for
18 months.
It's been a good winter, with attendance up to
100 at one point. They broke their record on one
of the coldest nights of the year. The metallic,
post-apocalyptic feel of the place is a big plus.
Goth always seemed a little out of place in Club
54 or Tailgator's.
Any given event night is the scene in microcosm,
which is itself Indianapolis nightlife in
microcosm. Constant shifts and changes in
rhythm; sometimes people stay off the dance
floor for a beat they don't like, sometimes for a
while, sometimes just for a moment; sometimes
the right combination will keep everyone party-
ing all night.
Looking at Megan Duckworth, with her platinum
blonde hair, corset and fairy-like flowing
skirt, you wouldn't think she's only been at this
Gothic thing a few months. She first encountered
the Fusion event after giving up on the
downtown scene last fall.
"I was disgusted with . the downtown bars,
with girls dancing on bars and the top 40 remixes.
I just walked out feeling filthy," Duckworth
says. "I looked in on Fusion and I had the feeling
I belonged there."
But then, that's the way this city's scene is.
People seem meant to fall into it.
"They're not critical; you just do your own
thing," Duckworth says. "Nobody judges.
There's a sense of camaraderie. You make
friends here. There are meaningful relationships
to be had."
It's a sentiment echoed by Amy Jackson,
who's worked the door at Darwin's Theory since
the beginning.
"Nobody's going to get shunned [for not looking
Goth enough], and for a lot of people, it's a
chance to get creative in their dancing," Jackson
says. "You can look out there and see 10 people
dancing, and they're all dancing differently."
The challenges the Goth scene faces are the
same for any subculture existing even a little bit
out of the mainstream in this city: a dying allages
scene, a constantly changing demographic,
fallout from the rave crackdowns of recent
years that still has promoters looking over their
shoulders and a pop culture that seems more
interested in nostalgia and inertia than in anything
new. It's the last bit that can kill a scene
the easiest. Competition not with other events,
but with the impulse to stay home.
"A lot of people our age, early 30s, just aren't
willing to go out. I guess to all of us here, you
should just live! So what if you're tired at work?"
Jackson says. "The people that are complaining
the most about nothing to do don't come out
regularly."
Darwin's Theory probably won't last forever.
Change is the only constant; the Goth scene
knows this better than most. But for the moment
it holds its own, a second renaissance, another
ritual space for Megan Duckworth and all those
like her who don't feel right anywhere else.
***@NUVO.NET

[Drew]

"Doug" <***@knac.com> wrote in message news:<35Tkc.1544$***@newssvr28.news.prodigy.com>...

[snip]

Post by Doug
Any given event night is the scene in microcosm,
which is itself Indianapolis nightlife in
microcosm.

Which is, in fact, but a microbe.

Ahh... how I don't miss midwest america.

Cheers,
Drew


Constant shifts and changes in

Post by Doug
rhythm; sometimes people stay off the dance
floor for a beat they don't like, sometimes for a
while, sometimes just for a moment; sometimes
the right combination will keep everyone party-
ing all night.
Looking at Megan Duckworth, with her platinum
blonde hair, corset and fairy-like flowing
skirt, you wouldn't think she's only been at this
Gothic thing a few months. She first encountered
the Fusion event after giving up on the
downtown scene last fall.
"I was disgusted with . the downtown bars,
with girls dancing on bars and the top 40 remixes.
I just walked out feeling filthy," Duckworth
says. "I looked in on Fusion and I had the feeling
I belonged there."
But then, that's the way this city's scene is.
People seem meant to fall into it.
"They're not critical; you just do your own
thing," Duckworth says. "Nobody judges.
There's a sense of camaraderie. You make
friends here. There are meaningful relationships
to be had."
It's a sentiment echoed by Amy Jackson,
who's worked the door at Darwin's Theory since
the beginning.
"Nobody's going to get shunned [for not looking
Goth enough], and for a lot of people, it's a
chance to get creative in their dancing," Jackson
says. "You can look out there and see 10 people
dancing, and they're all dancing differently."
The challenges the Goth scene faces are the
same for any subculture existing even a little bit
out of the mainstream in this city: a dying allages
scene, a constantly changing demographic,
fallout from the rave crackdowns of recent
years that still has promoters looking over their
shoulders and a pop culture that seems more
interested in nostalgia and inertia than in anything
new. It's the last bit that can kill a scene
the easiest. Competition not with other events,
but with the impulse to stay home.
"A lot of people our age, early 30s, just aren't
willing to go out. I guess to all of us here, you
should just live! So what if you're tired at work?"
Jackson says. "The people that are complaining
the most about nothing to do don't come out
regularly."
Darwin's Theory probably won't last forever.
Change is the only constant; the Goth scene
knows this better than most. But for the moment
it holds its own, a second renaissance, another
ritual space for Megan Duckworth and all those
like her who don't feel right anywhere else.