There’s a strange tension in being part of a scene for decades: you grow with it, you see its evolution, you taste the highs of innovation, and yet, sometimes, you feel like you’re watching it drift backwards. I remember the early 2000s, the energy, the creativity, the constant evolution. At that time, techno wasn’t just sound; it was vision, style, a living, breathing culture that pushed boundaries every year.

Now, when I look at some of the newer waves, I can’t help but feel frustrated. There’s a sense of stagnation, a recycling of ideas that were cutting-edge twenty years ago. It’s like watching young artists being funneled into a sound that should have evolved decades ago. They are enthusiastic, full of energy, but what they are being taught and exposed to is outdated, and it’s limiting their growth. It’s not their fault, they are simply following the path laid out in front of them, but it leaves a sour taste for someone who has been through the cycles of real innovation.

I’ve seen how other scenes, especially in places with a rich history and global influence, avoid this trap. They innovate consistently, decade after decade, always finding ways to renew their sound, redefine their performance, and open doors for the next generation. It’s a stark contrast to the inertia I see closer to home: repetition, lack of vision, a local bubble that slows progress. The young talent wants to break through, to reach wider audiences, to enter the global scene, but if they stay in the echo chamber, the door remains closed.

And that door is Europe, and the local scene is Spain, blocking innovation.