The Guardian festival blog: The thud, thud, thud of techno music leaves no space for bad thoughts | Life and style

by Hannah Jane Parkinson
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I am often asked what sort of things help me with my mental health. I think people expect me to say walking, nature, swimming. And all of those things do help, all of those things I need, but also: techno music. People never expect techno.

I actually used to hate techno; would rather die than listen to it, until I was sober for a year. It seems somewhat paradoxical to give up booze and suddenly start hanging out on vodka-sticky dancefloors. But, just like an SSRI, mix a high BPM into my bloodstream and my mood will lift.

There’s a physical element to techno that is lacking in other genres. There is, of course, joy to be found in sliding across one’s kitchen floor in socks, bellowing out pop lyrics into the handle of a broom; but just as the physicality of exercise takes one out of the mind, so does the bodily response to the thud, thud, thud of techno. The rattling of the ribcage; the beat of the music in your chest – as if…


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