Panic! at the Autechre disco: Why I couldn’t review popular electronic act

I’m a five foot two, claustrophobic concert reviewer, which is a pretty ridiculous thing to be if you think about it, and as soon as I got to the Autechre show at the Regency Ballroom on Oct. 9, I told my friend, “I don’t think I’m going to like this.”

The longtime boundary-pushing UK electronic duo have been performing live sets in the dark for eons, but I didn’t know that until a week before producers Sean Booth and Rob Brown got to town. And I didn’t process how scary it could be until reading the warning flyer that was posted in the lobby that night.

“Please plan on being in one place for the performance and do not move unnecessarily until it has finished when the lights will come back on again,” read the flyer, in part. Lights would come back on in an emergency, and attendees in need of assistance should light up their phone and wave it over their head in case. “If you are uncomfortable with the idea of spending 80 minutes in the dark while Autechre play, please see the venue staff before the performance starts.”

I am not usually afraid of the dark, but now I know that claustrophobia in the dark is something I fear. Covering concerts, club nights, and festivals is my favorite kind of work, and most of my experiences turn out to be joyful. This year’s festival reporting season has been wonderful. Six different San Francisco fests put me in the crosshairs of tens of thousands of people over the last couple of months, and I couldn’t have had more fun at each of them. I thought I was feeling more comfortable in big crowds in general. 

I’d also been swimming in OG UK electronic music nostalgia for months, culminating in watching exciting sets from Underworld, The Prodigy, and the Chemical Brothers at the Portola Festival in September. Although very different from these acts, Autechre came of age in the same era, and I couldn’t wait to see them again for the first time since the Nineties.

Tour opener Mark Broom remains an incredible DJ, with effortless and tasteful cutting and scratching over rhythmic electronic music. As his set wound down, my panic grew. I thought about how total darkness could be an invitation to grope women (it was a sausage party in there), and wondered if Autechre enjoys bringing fear out in the audience. My legs started to wobble.

The thought of how difficult the show might get for someone with physical challenges loomed, as did the potential of trampling if there was a fire or a fight. The perimeter around the walls was roped off, so it wouldn’t be possible to hide out there if it got too uncomfortable. I sat down in the only place I could, which was next to a trash can, for a few minutes to see if I could get a grip on my emotions. Someone walked into/over me right away, so I stood up pretty quickly.

Re-reading the picture of the flyer in the lobby, I realized that Autechre was going to play for 80 minutes and not an hour and decided it would be best to leave before it started to not cause a disturbance or commotion. People were already bumping into me in low light, and it was so crowded that I already felt closed in from the top and the sides. Autechre has some overly tall fans in the Bay Area. I thought I might faint or otherwise freak out once their show began. I’m not usually prone to that much catastrophizing, but positive scenarios didn’t seem possible in that moment.

Luckily, a dashing security guard was within reach, and I asked if there was an emergency exit that I could use because I was panicking and didn’t want to be there anymore. He swiftly got me through the roped-off perimeter and to the front door, where he offered to get a medic. I knew that I didn’t need medical attention, just to leave. I cried as soon as I got outside, and then intermittently for the next day. 

I want to commend the staff at the Regency for being so professional and caring all-around. When a woman actually fainted in front of my friend shortly after the lights went down (and I was halfway home), I was told that security reached her quickly and kindly. And when that same friend felt like she needed to wear a mask against potential COVID exposure in the room, a Regency employee provided two. My hope is that this show wasn’t as stressful on the staff as I think it might have been, but your grace and professionalism is appreciated.

I don’t have to ask AITA for not researching the substance of the Autechre tour in advance like I would with other concerts, because I know that I am and should’ve prepared better for what was going to happen. I blame myself for what happened to me.

I purchased one ticket months ago and don’t recall seeing anything about the performance being in the dark, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that there wasn’t a warning there. I also had two guest list passes from Goldenvoice, and didn’t think to ask for balcony access to have a seat once I heard from Warp’s publicist that the show would be totally in the dark. I think it would have been very possible for me to love the experience from a seat. A friend who did have a balcony seat said that quite a few people left shortly into Autechre’s set.

Many attendees loved the show. One friend said that she danced non-stop, a feat in itself with this music. KQED editor Gabe Meline hit the road to see this show seven times in seven days over the last few weeks because it was apparently a spiritual experience for him. Others expressed that the show was personally challenging for them, or not something they were happy to experience.

For me, I learned how physically and mentally exhausting a panic attack can really be, even though I’ve experienced much less severe ones, and that there’s actually a term called a panic attack hangover. It’s been five days since the show, and I’m still not quite back to my baselines. Extra sleep, more nutritious food, no caffeine, and self-kindness are practices that are helping to emerge from feeling so discombobulated, if this ever happens to you.

I had a soft spot for Autechre—I was one of the first in the country to interview them in 1994. The purpose of the in-person meeting, which was conducted in New York City, was to write their promotional bio. In the US, they were on TVT Records, where their labelmates were Lil Jon & the Eastside Boyz, Ying Yang Twins, and other early progenitors of crunk music. Such a funny thought now.

All these decades later, I wanted to know their motivations for performing in the dark and whether they enjoy making some fans uncomfortable. I didn’t get the chance—my request stemming from a press email offering limited interviews before the show was rejected.

Tamara Palmer has left the IDM chat.