In a so called happening world in this day and age where every phone pops with a notification every second ,everybody’s running off to meetings, handling mid-life crisis and then comes the weight of adulting. Like do we even remember the last time we all laughed and had a good time? To slow down time and to take it all in . To experience rather than existence. That’s what 133T is all about but we also give you food. We’re not just any party or pointless thumping music where you just shake your heads. It’s a sanctuary where your minds unwind and your souls just stretch out letting it free to breathe. At our burger raves, we’re not just throwing events at local shops to hype up brands. We are creating an environment where people rediscover joy, connection and a little bit of that wild, untamed fun we all carry inside. This is the story of how I found that spark through house music, how I fell in love with rave and how it can help you find your own escape from the grind.
As a young wild uni going kid I used to attend a lot of house parties and host some too. I’ve got some friends who’s always wanted to be a DJ but got stuck in the corporate loop. A year later, I was up in line to be the next guy stuck in the hamster wheel of life. I now had a 9-to-5 job that paid the bills and drained my soul. My days were a blur of spreadsheets, emails and the kind of coffee that tastes like regret. I’d come home, scroll through my phone and feel like I was living someone else’s life. Fun? That was a distant memory and something I vaguely recalled from college parties or late-night talks with friends.
I wasn’t really depressed nor was I alive either. I just existed. Im not sure about how many of you are reading this, nodding along, thinking about your own endless to-do lists? The meetings, the errands, the pressure to “keep it all together”? Somewhere along the way, we forget how to have fun, Instagram-perfect kind but the messy, sweaty, laugh-until-you-can’t-breathe kind.
Founder, ninja
It all changed one fine evening. A friend forced me to attend a warehouse party on the other side of town. I went in there reluctantly, expecting another overblown evening of too-loud sound and expensive drinks. As I entered that dark lit space something hit me out of nowhere. Not necessarily the bass although believe me, that boomed through my chest like a second heartbeat. It was the mood. The room vibrated, pulsing with individuals who weren’t posing or pretending. They were simply there, dancing to the music, caught up in the moment.
The DJ was spinning house music and it was deep, soulful beats with rhythms that felt like they were pulling you into conversation with the universe. The names and artists, I didn’t know them but I felt them. The music wasn’t noise but it was a language that was speaking to something deep inside me. For someone who doesn’t know how to dance I was terrible at it at first because who cares about dancing when you’re plodding through deadlines? As the night went on, I neither cared about being cool nor did I think. My mind was still for the first time in years. My soul was definitely stirring from a nap that had lasted far, far too long.
That night wasn’t the best of times but it was an epiphany. I’d been hungry for something I couldn’t define. Not fun, exactly but it felt like freedom. The freedom to lose the “should have” and “must have” that controlled my life. Raves, I discovered, are parties but they’re also a revolt against the routine, a middle finger raised to the notion that we have to be buttoned-up and serious all the time. In that warehouse, with strangers who felt like family, I discovered a part of myself I never knew I’d lost.I was hooked that night and on. I devoured the rave and house music culture. I went to every party I could find, learning about the heritage of the scene how house music was created in the 1980s Chicago underground clubs, a fusion of disco, funk and soul that gave voice to those on the outside. It was outsider music, music for dreamers, for misfits who refused to fit into the world’s neat little boxes and I knew that’s me. That’s for all of us, somehow.
9 AM & 11 AM
Wednesday 7 PM
Sunday 9 AM
