It didn’t take long for the house music virus to spread from Chicago and Detroit to San Francisco in the late 70s and early 80s. Funny thing, a group of Brit DJs (Jenö, Thomas, Markie and Garth), better known as the Wicked Crew, moved from London to San Francisco, a moment that apparently triggered the birth of US West coast’s rave scene.
Yet, until the early 90s, the electronic underground culture was inexistent behind the infamous Iron Curtain, in Eastern Europe. Electronic music was more like an experimental affair, at least in Romania where solo acts like Rodion AG were producing music with passion, yet exclusively off dancefloor.
Fast forward to nowadays: Eastern Europe’s underground is thriving, with new electronic subgenres reshaping the stiff and sometimes lifeless sounds imported from cities like Berlin or London. Music producing softwares live peaceafully alongside analog racks and vinyl records. Massive festivals created crowds and also space for smaller gatherings and local crews that act as a lifeline for the underground culture. Looking through the subjective lens of a guy who saw Romania’s uprising minimal house culture right from its inception years, it feels like US, the birth cradle of house music, was left far behind. Or is it not?
Kelly Petrović, known as Kelly Projects was born in California, yet her Croatian roots lured her into moving to the Adriatic Coast. Her editorial project, www.kellyprojects.com, covers the electronic underground culture in its tiniest details, from boutique festivals and underrated record shops to huge gatherings. Kelly calls herself a Techno Tourist, as she travels the world to find the best the electronic music scene has to offer.
Kelly was kind enough to answer a few questions, revolving around the current state of the electronic underground, while emphasizing on the differences between US house music scene and Europe’s, mainly the Eastern side of it. Our chat turned into a grounded overview on the current state of the electronic underground
It’s a long way from California to the Adriatic Coast, with striking cultural differences. How did you adapt to living in Croatia?
If you love to explore new cultures especially by dancing at music festivals, exploring record shops, and meeting new people, your perspective changes. You learn new ways of living that make you realize ‘I feel happier and healthier here’. I realized early on that the American lifestyle and music culture didn’t quite resonate with me, so since 2016, I’d been looking for a place to call my EU home that aligned better with my values. While California’s pristine nature is something I cherish, I found it harder to connect to the people there on the same level.
When I first arrived to Croatia, the people were extremely hospitable and genuine. Everything happened so seamlessly to immigrate. Day-to-day life has a slower, Mediterranean rhythm, which gives me time to invest in my passions without the sense of a constant rush. My family heritage is Croatian, so I felt a deep connection to the lifestyle and I was valued for my experiences within the music spaces. I even took some amazing music jobs by relocating and making myself available to this culture.
Eastern European clubbing is more communal—it’s about shared stories and respect, both for the music and each other.
Name a few things you loved while clubbing in Eastern Europe, compared to Northern America.
First let me say that it’s difficult to summarize these cultures: Eastern EU and North America because they consist of a lot of different groups and our experiences can be quite subjective, so I can only speak on my own merits. Music scenes on the East and West Coasts of N. America are often set in raw, industrial spaces with a minimal approach—people show up, lose themselves in their own worlds, and enjoy a unique but sometimes fragmented community feel, which for me is not so interesting. There are few cities with a strong clubbing culture, while other areas rely more on warehouses and underground events. With the warehouse culture, an address is often sent one hour before doors to encourage a private gathering and a unique experience.
In contrast, Eastern Europe’s dancefloors are pulsing with a wild, collective energy that makes me feel alive. Clubbing and nightlife culture is a bigger part of everyday life and people are more involved. In the States there’s less importance to it – people are more focused on their careers.
Americans are more approachable at venues, but when you find a good friend in Eastern Europe, they give you their full attention and treat you like family. There’s an innate desire to celebrate life just because, and to share a vibe that’s welcoming. Here, people listen with deep intent, creating bonds based on shared experiences and genuine conversation. In the U.S., individualism often shapes the dancefloor experience, especially in larger cities, where fleeting encounters mean less accountability for the impact of our actions. Meanwhile, Eastern European clubbing is more communal—it’s about shared stories and respect, both for the music and each other.
There is a general feeling that N. America hasn’t kept its underground club scene in line with what happens in Europe, despite its immense house & techno heritage: from the number of clubs and promoters to the musical education and size of the crowd. How do you feel about this?
Of course there is going to be a difference in these regards because the majority of the people visiting America are the DJs – not the average party attendee, so there’s less transferring of EU party culture. There is less techno tourism of Europeans going to American festivals. Only a handful of EU Promoters go to the States to collab with a US promoter, and if there was more of that, perhaps the situation could improve. North America’s regulatory landscape can be challenging for underground venues. Noise restrictions, early curfews, and limited licensing options shape how nightlife can operate, often pushing it away from traditional club spaces and into warehouses or private events. This setup limits the potential for a cultural identity comparable to the EU who instills their values in the clubbing culture. I would argue though that the size of the crowds is comparable to US events as it is to EU events. In New York we have the Brooklyn Mirage which holds thousands, and there’s more underground warehouse parties that no one knows about in the States so the real spirit is alive outside of the clubs. Dating back to the 70’s we had Studio 54 so our party scene has been long standing, however in modern times I think there has been considerable corporate invasion into events in the US (and the EU).
Hit by gentrification and by the crowd becoming bored, it seems that the underground scene in Western Europe has lost its sparkle against the younger and more enthusiastic one in Eastern Europe. Is it true?
There’s definitely some truth in saying the underground scenes of Western Europe have felt the impact of gentrification and commercialization. Major cities like Berlin, Amsterdam, and London have seen their underground spaces encroached upon by rising rents, development projects, and corporate interests, leading to the closure of beloved venues and a shift in the overall vibe of the scene. While these cities still host vibrant parties, they’ve had to evolve, sometimes losing that unpolished, raw energy that initially attracted so many. In Western Europe, big clubs often attract a more mainstream crowd, sometimes leaving the smaller, authentic spaces feeling niche and hard to find. As a result, it’s often the more established, quality party brands that truly preserve the underground spirit, and people who’ve been in the scene for years learn to gravitate toward these.
Eastern Europe still maintains its innocence and hasn’t been corrupted by big money – just yet. In Eastern Europe, however, the scene has managed to stay more organic and authentic, largely untainted by big business influence. There’s still a sense of freedom and grit. So I think it’s wise for us to consider what is most important to keeping our scene healthy and make sure we protect those elements since it will be crucial as it continues to evolve.
For more than 10 years, the festival scene in Croatia (especially in the summer), has flourished in an incredible way. Did this contribute to the growth of the underground electronic scene in Croatia or is it all about English and Italian clubheads enjoying some sun and cheaper booze in a festival setting?
I love that you asked this question. There are approximately 30 music festivals in Croatia in the Summer, with the majority of them being organized by foreigners and attended by foreigners. There are only a handful of which are Croatian such as Sonus Festival, which has positively impacted the local scene. They engage directly with Croatian artists by booking them, running local Winter events in Zagreb through ‘We Love Sound’. The local support and exposure that Sonus offers resonate throughout the year and contribute directly to the local culture.
Yet, most other international festivals operate in isolated, remote spots along the coast—far from the real Croatian music hubs in Zagreb, Rijeka, Split, and Šibenik. While it’s fantastic to have access to international talent locally, ticket prices can be high for many Croatians, so accessibility remains an issue. Nonetheless, these events expose us to global standards in production and talent without needing to travel, which inevitably raises the bar and inspires our local artists and promoters. So while the impact of the festival boom isn’t uniformly positive, there’s definitely been an influence on Croatian underground culture.
For the past 15 years, Romania has become the epicentre of minimal house. Yet, as any other musical trends, even in the underground, things may start to fade away as hype will go down. What does it take for this to establish itself as an outpost in the electronic underground, much like Berlin it is now, let’s say?
Romania has attracted so many music fans that I’ve connected with over the years and there is a great sense of admiration for the minimal sound which it’s built such a strong reputation for. Though I think longevity could be helped by also supporting and showcasing other genres within the electronic music scene.
Cities like the musical powerhouse that is Berlin are a good example of this and create a constant demand from generation to generation to visit and explore new sounds. The city invests in cultural venues and creative spaces with the intention of celebrating music and other arts, which sets itself a part.
Romania also has a deep rooted community of artists & producers and is well placed to support and encourage young up and coming talent to push the boundaries and innovate within its minimal movement.
Social media, as we know it, is affecting the values of what we perceive as underground culture. Yet, not being active on social media diminishes the chances of getting gigs. Has the idea of “letting the music speak for itself” died under the attacks of selfies and DJ booth Reels and Stories?
Absolutely. For artists and purists who initially dismissed social media as incompatible with underground culture, the realization has come too late for many. While it’s easy to blame social media for diluting the essence of underground music, it’s simply another tool for reaching and engaging audiences—whether in the underground or mainstream. Artists need visibility, and social media has become indispensable for showcasing their work and building connections in a way that was unimaginable a decade ago.
The frustration often stems from seeing others build successful careers based more on visuals or popularity rather than music quality. But rather than lament that success, we need to acknowledge that they’ve tapped into a specific audience while staying true to their brand. Their followers may not align with what we see as authentic underground, but that doesn’t negate the integrity of those who stay true to a different vision. Ultimately, it’s about focusing on our communities and using social media to foster meaningful connections with audiences who genuinely appreciate the music. In the end, “letting the music speak for itself” is still alive; it just has a new stage, and we have to adapt our approach if we want to keep our music relevant in today’s landscape.
One under the radar festival you’d not miss for anything in the world.
One club in Europe you really felt “at home” music and atmosphere wise.
Closer, Kyiv
One artist who took you by surprise in 2024
Automatic Writing
