Jan 24, 2025 - New releases
IN BETWEEN SPACE: A NIGHT AT MONOCHROMA X
Late nights and liminal spaces

Jan 24, 2025 - New releases
IN BETWEEN SPACE: A NIGHT AT MONOCHROMA X
Late nights and liminal spaces

Jan 24, 2025 - Written by Israel Ajayi
1:56am
It is almost 2am and I still haven’t gotten my tag to enter Monochroma. The parking lot is filled with people in the same situation as me. You can feel the resonance of whoever’s set is playing; the venue lights bathe everything in a hazy glow. A curious case, the tags are apparently nowhere to be found. I might miss the entire rave at this rate.
It’s not so bad though. I’m in a space I rather enjoy at raves — a liminal space
Jan 24, 2025 - Written by Israel Ajayi
1:56am
It is almost 2am and I still haven’t gotten my tag to enter Monochroma. The parking lot is filled with people in the same situation as me. You can feel the resonance of whoever’s set is playing; the venue lights bathe everything in a hazy glow. A curious case, the tags are apparently nowhere to be found. I might miss the entire rave at this rate.
It’s not so bad though. I’m in a space I rather enjoy at raves — a liminal space

Liminal spaces are eerie, unsettling places that exist in between states of being. Think of an airport, a parking lot, or a waiting room before your name gets called. They’re said to have an “off” vibe because they’re transitional.
I never fully agreed with that.
I argue there’s something calming about them rather than uncomfortable. I’ve been trying to figure out why. At Monochroma, I realized the lulling feeling I get in these spaces comes from the fact that they’re more than transitional. They are spaces for observation.
Liminal spaces are eerie, unsettling places that exist in between states of being. Think of an airport, a parking lot, or a waiting room before your name gets called. They’re said to have an “off” vibe because they’re transitional.
I never fully agreed with that.
I argue there’s something calming about them rather than uncomfortable. I’ve been trying to figure out why. At Monochroma, I realized the lulling feeling I get in these spaces comes from the fact that they’re more than transitional. They are spaces for observation.
2:05am
Monochroma’s liminal space is a large parking lot. Without the strobing lights of the dance floor or the distraction of your own euphoria, you actually see people.
You see that one person you don’t know but always spot at raves. You clock everyone’s outfits and feel a little jealous of the girl with the really cool shoes. You hug friends you haven’t seen in forever. You take quick breaks when the music becomes overstimulating. You meet one or two rave babes you may never speak to again.
You help your friend touch up her eyeliner. You spot your high school senior — someone you never expected to see here. He probably thinks the same of you. You greet each other briefly and awkwardly. You’ll probably run into each other at another rave.
Then you understand.
The calming effect of these spaces comes from knowing there are actual people here for the same reason you are. Not just bodies moving inside a crowd. It feels human.
All this while, you can still hear the thumping from inside.
They’ve found the tags.
It’s time to go in
2:05am
Monochroma’s liminal space is a large parking lot. Without the strobing lights of the dance floor or the distraction of your own euphoria, you actually see people.
You see that one person you don’t know but always spot at raves. You clock everyone’s outfits and feel a little jealous of the girl with the really cool shoes. You hug friends you haven’t seen in forever. You take quick breaks when the music becomes overstimulating. You meet one or two rave babes you may never speak to again.
You help your friend touch up her eyeliner. You spot your high school senior — someone you never expected to see here. He probably thinks the same of you. You greet each other briefly and awkwardly. You’ll probably run into each other at another rave.
Then you understand.
The calming effect of these spaces comes from knowing there are actual people here for the same reason you are. Not just bodies moving inside a crowd. It feels human.
All this while, you can still hear the thumping from inside.
They’ve found the tags.
It’s time to go in

2:30am
It’s my first time being on stage at a rave. I’ve always wondered how DJs handle the pressure of performing for a crowd. Today I realize the stage is its own world.
You can barely see the crowd. They’re a blurry set of heads washed in red, green, and blue lights.
When WEARECHEMICALS begins her set, it feels like she’s performing just for you and the few others on stage. It hits me then, this feels familiar to what I experienced outside. There’s an in-betweenness up here too. You can observe what’s happening.
Whenever the beat hits, something switches on inside you. A sharp white flash that appears every time the rhythm lands.
Aside from feeling like the music is physically inside you, you’re also watching the DJ
2:30am
It’s my first time being on stage at a rave. I’ve always wondered how DJs handle the pressure of performing for a crowd. Today I realize the stage is its own world.
You can barely see the crowd. They’re a blurry set of heads washed in red, green, and blue lights.
When WEARECHEMICALS begins her set, it feels like she’s performing just for you and the few others on stage. It hits me then, this feels familiar to what I experienced outside. There’s an in-betweenness up here too. You can observe what’s happening.
Whenever the beat hits, something switches on inside you. A sharp white flash that appears every time the rhythm lands.
Aside from feeling like the music is physically inside you, you’re also watching the DJ

3:24am
It becomes obvious that the DJ is having just as much fun as you, but it’s not something they can fully express. If they did, they might lose control of it.
So they channel it into the music.
Their feet stay planted so they don’t jump. Their heads resist the urge to sway too hard. They keep a composed expression, nodding slightly.
Their enjoyment propels the music forward.
Push and pull. An energy cycling between the DJ and the crowd.
Sweat beads on their face. I can see it in slow motion. The music rises and dips. The beads slide down skin.
Then it accelerates.
The crowd explodes. Furious jumps.
The beat drops.
The earthcore aesthetic didn’t feel styled for the camera. It felt lived in.
That’s often what distinguishes gatherings like Zenergy Brunch from more commercial nightlife spaces. There’s less emphasis on spectacle and more emphasis on atmosphere.
People drifted easily between different modes of being, dancing for a while, sitting on the grass, reconnecting with friends, or stepping away briefly before returning to the speakers.
Movement felt fluid. There was no pressure to stay in one place.
In many ways, the experience reflected the kind of rave culture that is slowly taking root in Lagos’ underground electronic scene, one where community, environment, and music exist in conversation with each other.
Where the dancefloor is just one part of a larger ecosystem.
3:24am
It becomes obvious that the DJ is having just as much fun as you, but it’s not something they can fully express. If they did, they might lose control of it.
So they channel it into the music.
Their feet stay planted so they don’t jump. Their heads resist the urge to sway too hard. They keep a composed expression, nodding slightly.
Their enjoyment propels the music forward.
Push and pull. An energy cycling between the DJ and the crowd.
Sweat beads on their face. I can see it in slow motion. The music rises and dips. The beads slide down skin.
Then it accelerates.
The crowd explodes. Furious jumps.
The beat drops.
The earthcore aesthetic didn’t feel styled for the camera. It felt lived in.
That’s often what distinguishes gatherings like Zenergy Brunch from more commercial nightlife spaces. There’s less emphasis on spectacle and more emphasis on atmosphere.
People drifted easily between different modes of being, dancing for a while, sitting on the grass, reconnecting with friends, or stepping away briefly before returning to the speakers.
Movement felt fluid. There was no pressure to stay in one place.
In many ways, the experience reflected the kind of rave culture that is slowly taking root in Lagos’ underground electronic scene, one where community, environment, and music exist in conversation with each other.
Where the dancefloor is just one part of a larger ecosystem.

Moochroma X

Moochroma X
5:45am
I’m surprised the sun isn’t out yet. The sky is light blue. Dawn has always been one of my favorite times of the night.
A year ago, I went through a difficult period and stopped talking to my friends. Liminal spaces don’t only allow you to observe. They allow you to reconnect.
I am outside with my friend and we watch the blue sky get tinted with the morning’s warmth. It feels… calming.
5:45am
I’m surprised the sun isn’t out yet. The sky is light blue. Dawn has always been one of my favorite times of the night.
A year ago, I went through a difficult period and stopped talking to my friends. Liminal spaces don’t only allow you to observe. They allow you to reconnect.
I am outside with my friend and we watch the blue sky get tinted with the morning’s warmth. It feels… calming.

Zenergy Brunch

Zenergy Brunch

Moochroma X

Moochroma X



Black Noise Mag

Black Noise Mag

Black Noise Mag
