Our emotional state of choice is Ecstasy. Our nourishment of choice is Love. Our addiction of choice is technology. Our religion of choice is music. Our currency of choice is knowledge. Our politics of choice is none. In makeshift spaces, from disused warehouses to the serene countryside, we seek to shed ourselves of the burden of uncertainty for a future you have been unable to stabilise and secure for us, your children. We seek to relinquish our inhibitions, and free ourselves from the shackles and restraints you have put upon us. Until the sun rises to burn our eyes we dance fiercely with our brothers and sisters in celebration of our life, our culture, our values: peace, love, freedom, tolerance, harmony, unity and respect.

The sentiments expressed in this anonymously written Raver s Manifesto reflect the spirit of the modern world s tribal gatherings: joyous celebrations involving primitive and often ritualistic dances, with members of a massive global village that transcends man-made law, physical geography, and time itself, escaping the harsh realities of everyday life. They come in search of freedom as Madonna so profoundly sang, Only when I m dancing can I feel this free and revel in it, in ecstatic unison. Their beaming smiles are the faces of freedom.

The tribes first gathered in the fields towards the end of the eighties, before authoritarian legislation imposed by the establishment took the gatherings out of the countryside and into the city and its clubs. But the laws could not stop the party completely, and recent years have seen the dance nation hijack the outdoor rock festival as a legal way of recreating the blissful and magical moments its forefathers enjoyed during the now legendary summers of love. Tribal Gatherings, Homelands, The Big Chill, Creamfields the special atmosphere encapsulated in these dance festivals can never be equalled within the confines of an indoor club.
The eager anticipation and excitement before and during our dance festivals is of a more heightened nature than elsewhere in Europe. Well-travelled luminaries John Digweed and Carl Cox both cited our first efforts as the best festival I have ever played at.
At the inaugural Creamfields Ireland in the idyllic setting of Punchestown Racecourse, James Barton (co-founder of the Liverpool superclub Cream) was dancing with fevered excitement out on the grass with the paying punters, being mesmerised by Basement Jaxx s stunning live show. An overwhelmed Barton exclaimed: I m the happiest man here today this is the best festival I ve ever been at.
The Jaxx exceeded everyone s expectations with one of the highlights of the day. Others came from Judge Jules, Dave Clarke, The Chemical Brothers, Tall Paul, Goldie, Storm, Felix Da Housecat, Moloko, Paul Oakenfold and Darren Emerson.
The individual sets of the fifty DJs and live acts were like incidental scenes in a massive interactive theatre performance taking place on five stage sets simultaneously. Ultimately they were playing supporting roles to the real star (or stars) of the show the 25,000 strong audience that travelled the length and breadth of the country to participate in a unifying celebration of all that is great about Irish club culture. As one colleague commented: I only saw two DJs who impressed me and yet I still had the most enjoyable day out of my entire clubbing life.
The values enshrined in the raver s manifesto were in evidence wherever and whenever throughout. Diversity was abundant, respect and tolerance prominent, the sense of harmony and unity a joy to behold.
You ve never seen so many smiling faces in one place, and the influence of chemical refreshments on those beaming whites is irrelevant. You ve got to have something to smile about, and the reason we re all so goddamn euphoric at Creamfields Ireland is because this is our world, our dance scene, our creation ours and ours alone. Those of us old enough to fondly recall how far Irish club culture has travelled since its heady and humble beginnings a decade ago have even more reasons to smile and feel a sense of achievement.
Creamfields Ireland, like Homelands Ireland before it, is not just another illustration of the Irish dance scene coming of age. It is also highlights how we ve now passed the point of no return. This isn t a passing fad anymore; the powers that be have realised that no matter what their endeavours are (including heavy-handed Gardai making their presence felt in an unsavoury fashion the way they did here), the party just won t stop. They can t access the switch to turn it off. It belongs to us. Just like Creamfields Ireland.
A party for the people made possible by the people. The party of the year, in fact.