He first reached out to me through social media, and after spending an evening exploring his work, it was obvious this wasn’t simply someone making music videos. Every project felt intentional. Every visual carried purpose. As someone who spends so much time speaking to musicians, it felt only right to shine a light on one of the creatives helping bring their stories to life. Music videos are often treated as an afterthought, but the right visual can completely transform how a song is experienced. People like Azim remind us why they deserve to be celebrated in their own right.

Born and raised in The Mounts, Northampton, Azim describes himself as a British-Bangladeshi film director with one clear ambition – “to be among the greats, represent my community, and use my work to help others.”

His childhood was a collision of cultures. Gangsta rap poured through one speaker, Bollywood soundtracks through another, while afternoons disappeared into wrestling games with rock music blasting in the background. Saturdays weren’t spent in film school or surrounded by industry connections. Instead, they were spent experimenting with an old laptop webcam, making YouTube videos simply because creating felt natural.

“I wasn’t surrounded by creatives,” he tells me. “A lot of people didn’t believe it was a realistic career.”

That never seemed to matter.

While others saw filmmaking as an impossible dream, Azim simply kept making things.

His early teenage years were far from easy. Feeling misunderstood at school, facing bullying and often feeling like he didn’t quite belong, filmmaking became both an escape and a place where he could exist without explanation.

“I’d speed walk home from school, eat, then make videos from 4pm until 11pm every day,” he says. “I felt more understood by strangers online than by people around me.”

Reading that, it’s hard not to see how those experiences continue to shape the work he creates today. Storytelling wasn’t just a hobby. It became a way of processing the world around him.

Music naturally became part of that journey.

Having grown up playing with different creative outlets, Azim found something uniquely freeing in combining film with independent music. Unlike commercial projects that often arrive with rigid expectations, working alongside artists allowed him to push ideas into far more experimental territory.

“I can express my own visual perspective while the artist shares their musical vision.”

That relationship starts long before a camera is switched on. Rather than arriving with a fixed concept, he begins with conversation.

“I always ask what a song means to them, why they made it and what their mental state was,” he explains. “People love to be listened to.”

It’s a simple approach, but one that feels increasingly rare. For Azim, building trust isn’t about directing someone – it’s about understanding them first.

That understanding is perhaps why his work refuses to settle for the obvious.

He believes the strongest music videos are the ones that challenge expectations rather than repeat them. Instead of leaning into familiar visual clichés, he’s more interested in creating something people haven’t seen before.

“I once made a hip-hop video inspired by 1930s German Expressionism,” he laughs. “Experimentation moves the culture forward.”

That willingness to experiment has already led to significant recognition, including his recent selection for the BFI NETWORK Immersive Storytelling Lab 2026 – an achievement he describes as feeling like “a stamp of approval.”

For many, recognition from an organisation like the BFI would simply be another career milestone. For Azim, it represents something much bigger.

“I’ve never forsaken my identity for success,” he says. “I want to show people you can thrive without money or ‘nepo’ connections.”

That message runs through almost everything he talks about.

Film, he believes, often feels like a “pay-to-win” industry, creating barriers for working-class creatives who simply don’t have the same access as others. But he also believes something far more valuable can’t be bought.

“You can’t buy hunger or life experience.”

Growing up in Northampton, navigating different cultures and often feeling like he belonged to neither entirely, shaped not only his identity but the stories he now wants to tell.

“I felt too Eastern for the West and too Western for the East.”

Rather than trying to fit neatly into either world, he embraced both, developing a voice that’s unapologetically his own.

Even away from filmmaking, that perspective continues to evolve.

He’s become far more conscious of protecting his own wellbeing after years of sacrificing sleep and pushing himself relentlessly. These days, quiet walks, spending time with friends and stepping away from work have become just as valuable as time behind a camera.

“They’re not creative activities,” he says, “but those life experiences feed into my work.”

His connection to grassroots music has taught him lessons beyond filmmaking too.

Working alongside independent musicians showed him the importance of visibility and building your own identity alongside your craft. While artists often become the face of their own projects, directors can easily disappear into the background.

“They taught me to build my own star power.”

Technology has helped level the playing field too. Looking back, he laughs at starting with little more than an iPhone 6s because it was all he could afford. Today, he believes accessibility has never been greater.

“If you have a smartphone, you already have a better start than I did.”

Perhaps the most powerful moment in his journey, though, came through a project that almost never happened.

His short film Pieces of an Adolescent explored the trauma of his own life between 2013 and 2019. Made by a two-person team for less than £100, it arrived during a period where he’d begun questioning everything.

“I thought this path was a fluke,” he admits. Instead, the project became something far more profound. “It saved my life.”

It’s difficult to read those words without understanding why storytelling means so much to him. Film isn’t simply what Azim does. It’s how he’s made sense of his own experiences, and now hopes to help others make sense of theirs.

Looking ahead, there’s plenty on the horizon. A country music video shot on 16mm film is releasing this summer, alongside a surreal Hubba Bubba commercial blending the worlds of Guy Ritchie and Quentin Tarantino. Conversations with major production companies are gathering pace, and after recently being named one of shots.net‘s top unsigned directing talents, the future feels full of possibility.

Yet success, for Azim, isn’t measured purely by bigger productions or bigger budgets.

“I want to help my friends find work and make a positive contribution to society.”

That sentence perhaps sums him up better than anything else.

The music industry often shines its brightest spotlight on the people standing in front of the camera, but conversations like this are a reminder that there are equally passionate creatives standing behind it. The people shaping how songs are remembered, giving artists another language to tell their stories through and quietly pushing culture forward frame by frame.

For young creatives wondering whether they need expensive equipment or the right connections before they begin, Azim’s advice is refreshingly uncomplicated.

“If you have a smartphone, you’ve already got more than I started with. Just start.”

Sometimes that’s all a great story has ever needed.

Check Azim’s work: https://azimmiah.com/

Follow here: https://www.instagram.com/azimmiah_/

The post Azim Miah: Framing Stories That Refuse to Be Ignored first appeared on Fleckies - Discover the best local events in town.

That was my biggest takeaway after speaking with RIJ.

We first connected after he reached out to me on Instagram, suggesting a chat because he felt we were on similar journeys. By the end of our conversation, I understood exactly what he meant. Yes, he’s a DJ. Yes, he’s played Ibiza, produced music and built an event brand. But underneath all of that is someone deeply interested in people – what connects them, what inspires them and how music can become the thread running through it all.

Music found him early.

Growing up, it wasn’t production software or club culture that first sparked something – it was community radio. At just twelve years old he landed a regular slot on a local summer station after his science teacher, Mrs Burgess, put his name forward. It quickly became much more than reading links between songs.

“I learned confidence, speaking into a microphone, working a mixing desk and sharing music. It gave me the bug straight away.”

By fourteen he was presenting a weekly Chart Show, bringing friends into the studio, taking requests and opening the lines to listeners. Looking back now, it’s funny how naturally those early experiences mirror what he’s building today. Even then, he wasn’t just interested in playing music – he wanted to create spaces where people felt involved.

Music was everywhere at home too. CDs were prized birthday presents, speakers had to have enough bass, and like many of us growing up in the early internet era, he spent hours tinkering with music-making tools online long before he knew what production really was.

Then university arrived, and with it, dance music.

Walking into Birmingham’s legendary Rainbow venue for the first time became one of those moments that quietly changes everything. “I just remember thinking, this is something completely different.”

Not long afterwards, a friend handed him a pair of ageing DJ controllers that barely worked. They weren’t glamorous – “I’m being generous calling them decks,” he laughs – but they were enough to light another spark. House parties followed, then a proper set of Pioneer decks for his twenty-first birthday after his aunt and uncle offered to fund half, provided he invested the other half himself.

It wasn’t about owning equipment. It was about committing to the craft.

Like many DJs, RIJ taught himself through trial, error and persistence. He learned by playing wherever he could, first for friends, then at parties, then gradually in larger venues. Looking back, he admits he spent too long waiting for opportunities to arrive instead of creating them.

“The minute I stopped waiting for someone else to build it for me and took ownership, things started to shift.”

That shift eventually led him to Ibiza – almost by accident.

What followed wasn’t simply a collection of gigs on one of dance music’s most iconic islands, but an education in adaptability. Equipment failed. USBs crashed. Decks overheated in thirty-five-degree bars. Every set became another lesson in staying calm under pressure.

More importantly, Ibiza reminded him that relationships matter just as much as talent.

“You never know who’s in the crowd or who’s sat next to you in the green room. Just be a decent person. That goes further than any hustle.”

His sound naturally evolved alongside those experiences. House sits at its core, but disco, garage and soulful vocals all weave through his sets, shaped by childhood memories, family influences and countless hours behind the decks. He describes house music’s four-to-the-floor rhythm as something almost primal, while disco brings “warmth, nostalgia and emotion”. Garage adds groove and attitude.

“The warmth and melody probably come from my family,” he says. “The bass and the naughtiness? That’s all me.”

But perhaps the most interesting part of RIJ’s story isn’t the DJ career at all. It’s Naughty Parrot.

What began as an events concept has grown into something much bigger – an event series, podcast, creative platform and community built around one simple idea: Be Bold. Dance Free.

The philosophy behind it feels refreshingly honest. RIJ believes people shouldn’t have to choose between looking after themselves and enjoying nightlife. His phrase “Party with Balance” sums it up perfectly.

“Naughty Parrot was born from wanting to create spaces where people can show up unapologetically as themselves.”

That idea runs through everything the brand does. Events are designed to feel intimate rather than intimidating. Podcasts dive into wellbeing alongside music. Emerging artists are given opportunities to share their stories, while established guests help shine a light on the next generation.

Listening to him talk about it, you quickly realise Naughty Parrot isn’t really about him.

It’s about everyone else.

“How else are they going to get a voice?” he asks when talking about supporting emerging DJs. “If I’ve got a platform, however big or small, I want to use it.”

It’s a mindset that feels increasingly rare. Rather than viewing the scene as something to compete within, he sees it as something to contribute to. He speaks openly about paying artists fairly wherever possible, recognising the hours that disappear behind the scenes long before anyone steps into a DJ booth.

That same generosity carries into the wider community he’s building.

“Community isn’t just part of Naughty Parrot,” he says. “The brand doesn’t exist without it.”

In a world that often feels increasingly divided, he believes dancefloors can still offer something powerful – places where people arrive without pretence, connect through music and leave feeling a little lighter than when they walked in.

That vision continues to grow.

Following a sold-out London event, Naughty Parrot heads to Manchester on 4^th July before expanding into Bristol and beyond, while RIJ continues balancing DJ bookings across the UK and Europe with growing the platform itself. Longer term, he’s already thinking about taking the concept overseas.

It’s ambitious, but it doesn’t feel rushed.

His advice to others reflects exactly the same mindset. “Pick your battles. You can build more than one thing, just not always at the same time.” It’s practical advice, but also quietly reassuring. Progress doesn’t always happen in a straight line, and creativity doesn’t need to move at everyone else’s pace.

By the end of our conversation, I found myself thinking back to why Fleckies exists in the first place. It’s easy to look at someone’s Instagram and think you know their story. Usually, you don’t.

Behind the Ibiza sunsets, sold-out events and polished content is someone who still believes music is fundamentally about people. About conversations. About giving others a platform. About creating spaces where everyone feels welcome.

If Naughty Parrot continues growing with those values intact, I have a feeling this is only the beginning.

Listen and follow RIJ:

@RIJMusic_

For socials, tickets and everything else, head to:

TICKETS for July 4th!

All things Naughty Parrot

The post RIJ: Building Something Bigger Than the Dancefloor first appeared on Fleckies - Discover the best local events in town.

MINA’s story begins in Oxford, where music was always present in the background, long before it became something she actively pursued. Her dad played a big role in that early exposure, filling the house with everything from David Bowie and New Order to Daft Punk. “He’d have music blasting on weekend mornings,” she says, and those moments clearly left their mark. Live music came early too. Glastonbury at 14, Burning Man at 19 – experiences that most people only encounter much later, if at all.

But like many artists, her relationship with music deepened outside of those early influences. As a teenager, she found herself drawn into rave culture, sneaking into drum and bass events and festivals underage, absorbing the energy of those spaces before she fully understood them. Dubstep, jungle, dancehall, reggae – her tastes were broad, instinctive and rooted in movement. By the time she reached university in Leeds, those influences had started to take shape in a more defined way. Nights at SubDub and Beaverworks became formative, not just for the music, but for the sense of community they created. She began DJing at house parties, cramped basements transformed into makeshift clubs, learning how to read a room and create something that people could feel.

The shift from listener to creator came later, but when it arrived, it landed with clarity. A relationship with a grime producer introduced her to Logic Pro X, and what could have been an intimidating learning curve instead felt natural. “I found it surprisingly easy,” she says. “When something comes naturally to you, it makes you want to do more.” That moment opened the door to something bigger – not just a new skill, but the realisation that music could be more than just a passion. It could be a path.

From there, her approach to production developed quickly, shaped by curiosity and collaboration rather than rigid structure. MINA isn’t interested in staying within one lane. Her sound is built through what she describes as “cross-pollination” – blending different genres, cultures and ideas into something that feels distinct. Early influences came from UK funky, left-field bass and dancehall, but over time her references have shifted. Now, her work draws on soca, dennery segment and Nigerian street beat, pushing towards something faster, harder and more intense.

There’s a clear thread running through it all – a fascination with tension and release, with building moments that feel both euphoric and unpredictable. It’s something she’s been exploring more deeply through live performance, as well as through her collaborations. Time spent in Ghana working alongside artists like Gafacci and Bryte has been particularly influential, shaping both her sound and her perspective. “If I’m inspired by someone, I’ll reach out and ask to work with them,” she says. That openness has become a defining part of her practice.

But what sets MINA apart is that her work doesn’t stop at the music itself. Alongside producing and performing, she has consistently invested time and energy into building projects that support the wider creative community. It’s not something that came as an afterthought – it’s always been part of her approach. “I’ve been running parties for over ten years,” she explains, “and doing things behind the scenes to support artists.” There’s a clear sense of responsibility in how she moves through the industry. Access to knowledge, networks and opportunities isn’t something to hold onto, it’s something to share.

That ethos is perhaps most visible in Club Soft, her alcohol-free party concept. Born from a shift in her own relationship with nightlife, the idea challenges some of the assumptions that have long defined club culture. Late nights, heavy drinking, the pressure to keep bar sales high – these are all things that can exclude people, whether intentionally or not.

Club Soft flips that on its head. It creates space for a different kind of experience – one that happens earlier, removes the focus on alcohol and invites a wider range of people onto the dancefloor. “It’s about asking who these spaces exclude,” she says. And more importantly, what happens when you change that.

The response has been powerful. “It’s the most meaningful feedback I’ve ever had for an event,” she explains. There’s something deeply moving about creating a space where people feel comfortable, included and connected. It’s a reminder that nightlife doesn’t have to look one specific way to be valid.

That same drive to make the industry more accessible runs through Funding with Mina, a platform designed to help creatives navigate the often confusing world of grant funding. For many artists, funding feels out of reach – too complicated, too opaque, too competitive. Mina saw that gap and decided to do something about it.

“It’s a skillset I’d developed over time,” she says, after finding success with her own applications and helping friends do the same. What started informally has grown into something much bigger, offering workshops, mentoring and guidance that demystifies the process. Her advice is refreshingly honest. Rejection is part of it. It’s rarely personal. And the more you apply, the easier it becomes to understand how to communicate your ideas.

Across everything she does, there’s a clear through line – a belief that the industry can be more equitable if people actively choose to make it that way. “If we think about what we can offer as much as what we can take,” she says, “it becomes a more enjoyable place to work.” It’s a simple idea, but one that feels increasingly important.

Right now, MINA is balancing multiple projects, each pushing her in new directions. She’s developing a live electronic set based on a recent collaboration with Ugandan artist Maganda Shakul, with plans to perform both solo and together in the future. At the same time, Club Soft continues to grow, with more events planned and expansion into a new city on the horizon, alongside a large summer day party in London.

It’s a lot to hold, but there’s a sense that everything feeds into the same bigger picture. Music, community, access, collaboration – none of it exists in isolation.

If there’s one piece of advice she returns to, it’s the importance of showing up. Not just online, but in real life. “If you want to be part of something, go to it,” she says. Introduce yourself. Be present. In a world increasingly shaped by digital connections, there’s still something irreplaceable about being in the room.

Spending time with MINA’s story, even from a distance, leaves you with a sense of possibility. Not in a vague or idealistic way, but in something much more grounded. The idea that things can change if people are willing to build differently. That creativity doesn’t have to come at the cost of community. That there is space for more of us, if we choose to make it.

And that feels like something worth holding onto.

Listen and follow MINA: https://linktr.ee/minamusicuk

And check out Funding with Mina here.

Photos by: Alex Lambert, Cicely Grace, Lorcan Berg

The post MINA: Building Spaces Where Everyone Can Thrive first appeared on Fleckies - Discover the best local events in town.

Reece grew up in Nottingham in a loving single-parent household. His mum raised him and his younger brothers, and responsibility came early. School never quite worked – not because he was disruptive, but because he wasn’t engaged. He left without qualifications, and his year group was the last before the building itself was knocked down. “I wasn’t academic,” he says simply, “but I was always trying to build something.” Whether it was selling sweets, sketching out computer repair ideas or drafting business plans, he knew he wanted to create something big. He just didn’t know what that something was yet.

Music didn’t properly enter his world until loss forced it to. At 20, Reece and his friends lost someone close to suicide. It was the kind of moment that splits your life into before and after. “Our whole group only really got into creativity after that,” he tells me. “Music became an outlet for grief. It gave us direction when we didn’t have one.” He stepped into production, building the sound behind the group while his friends rapped. He dabbled himself, but it was behind the boards where he felt most at home. He even started teaching beat-making on TikTok and YouTube, sharing knowledge openly. Looking back, he realises the creativity was always there. “I just saw it as entrepreneurship before I saw it as art.”

As they grew older, something felt missing in Nottingham’s scene. The city is proud, working-class and full of character, but at the time Reece and his friends questioned whether it was enough. So they left. They booked one-way tickets to Thailand – two rappers and a producer chasing something bigger. They documented the journey and threw themselves into the work. But distance brings clarity. “Being away made me realise the talent in Nottingham was never the issue. There’s serious ability here. What’s been missing is structure, belief, and connection.” And he’s right, across the UK, we have talent in bucket loads. The issue is rarely ability – it’s whether people are given the right channels to hone it safely and sustainably.

Thailand was where the real shift happened. Reece went thinking he’d double down on production, but instead he rediscovered his core drive – building businesses with purpose and connecting people. “I want to make the world more creative,” he says, and there’s nothing fluffy about it. Creativity changed his life, but it came through pain. “Not everyone should have to go through something painful to discover their outlet. Being human is to be creative. Everyone can create.” When he and his friends began planning their return to Europe, he told them if they were serious, they needed a bigger mission. And if you’re building something meaningful, you start at home. Only Notts was born from that.

It’s easy to assume Only Notts is just another Instagram platform, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. “The Instagram is just the surface layer,” Reece explains. “It’s about building creative infrastructure in Nottingham. Bringing artists together physically. Giving talent real structure instead of just online exposure.” That word – structure – keeps returning. Exposure can create noise, but without systems and support, it fades quickly. Stories, on the other hand, stick. “Artists are more than songs,” he says. “They have backgrounds, struggles, journeys. If you want to build real culture, people need to understand the person behind the music.” It’s something I believe deeply too. Sharing stories creates empathy, and empathy builds community.

Reece knows what it feels like to build something that doesn’t align with who you are. At 18, he started a phone repair business because it seemed sensible. He ran it for five years before selling it, then worked in a phone shop that never felt like the right fit. “I know what it feels like to build something you’re not passionate about,” he says. “Now I know the role I’m meant to play.” Only Notts feels aligned. Bigger than him. Focused on impact rather than image. If he can help people unlock their creativity without trauma being the catalyst, that’s worth the graft.

The next chapter is physical. On 6th March, Only Notts steps into The Palais with an event that feels symbolic as much as it is celebratory. “Culture isn’t built purely online. It’s built in rooms,” Reece says. “Face-to-face, where people connect.” The night will feature more than 25 artists across rap, R&B and singing – different styles, different lanes, all under one roof. It isn’t just a lineup. It’s proof that the city can move together. That scattered talent can be unified. That competition can be replaced with collaboration.

Grassroots culture sits at the centre of everything he’s building. “If you don’t protect and invest in the early stages of a scene, you don’t have a future scene.” Nottingham doesn’t lack talent. It lacks unity and infrastructure. That’s where the work begins – local artists supporting each other instead of waiting for validation from outside the city. There’s something quietly radical about that in a world driven by algorithms and ego.

Looking ahead, Reece envisions a permanent creative space in Nottingham. Stronger infrastructure. Bigger collaborations. More structured pathways for artists. A sustainable hub supported by a registered CIC arm to properly help young people. Events are part of it, but they’re not the end goal. “This is just phase one,” he says.

When I ask what advice he’d give to someone wanting to build something similar in their own city, his answer is refreshingly honest. “Build outside the box. Build community before ego. Make sure you’re genuinely passionate, because if you’re not, someone will outwork you.” Then he asks the question everyone should ask themselves: “Are you ready for the work, or do you just like the idea of it?”… and that isn’t a question to deter anyone, just one that serves as a reminder that building something from the ground up is not an easy one, so true passion is something to definitely have in your armoury.

There’s nothing performative about Reece. No inflated promises. Just a clear belief that creativity should be accessible, supported and celebrated properly. Only Notts isn’t just spotlighting talent – it’s building the channels that talent deserves. And if more cities followed that blueprint, imagine what we could create together.

Follow & Support:

https://onlynotts.co.uk/

https://www.instagram.com/onlynotts

https://www.eventim-light.com/uk/a/693ad5165a5bd13cd323dd66/e/693af2cf5a5bd13cd323ddcc

The post Reece Walker: Building the Structure Talent Deserves first appeared on Fleckies - Discover the best local events in town.

A music psychologist and DJ, Cannon has spent years studying how dance music shapes our emotions, bodies, and communities. His work has helped shine a light on the psychological and social power of club culture, from its ability to combat loneliness to its role in strengthening grassroots music scenes.

Now, with a groundbreaking real-world experiment taking place on the dancefloor at Haze: Sonic Embodiment, he’s taking music psychology out of the lab and into the rave.

How Dance Music Moves Us: The Science Behind the Dancefloor

Dance music isn’t just about listening – it’s about feeling. And according to Cannon, that feeling comes from something deeply wired into our brains and bodies.

“When people dance together, they’re not just reacting to the music; they’re physically aligning with the beat and with each other,” he explains. “That rhythmic synchronisation, or ‘entrainment,’ creates an intense sense of unity and belonging.”

It’s why mass dancefloors at raves and festivals feel so euphoric. The syncopated rhythms of dance music encourage people to move in time with one another, and when that happens, something incredible occurs:

Our brains release endorphins, boosting our mood.

We experience ‘collective effervescence’ – a psychological state where shared movement creates a powerful emotional high.

The emotions we express through movement become contagious, spreading throughout the crowd.

“For decades, people in rave culture have talked about this overwhelming feeling of togetherness and connection, but now we’re actually able to study and quantify it,” Cannon says. He is currently writing up research that shows that the more people feel emotionally and physically in sync on the dancefloor, the stronger their sense of social connection becomes.

The Dancefloor as an Antidote to Loneliness

In an era where loneliness is on the rise, particularly post-COVID, nightlife offers something uniquely valuable: a chance to reconnect in real-time.

“Digital interactions dominate so much of our lives now, but nothing replaces face-to-face, in-the-moment connection,” Cannon explains. “The dancefloor isn’t just about escapism – it’s about belonging.”

His studies show that people who engage in dance music culture report higher levels of social well-being – feeling more connected to a community and a shared purpose. “It’s not just hedonism,” he says. “Dance music brings people together in a way that few other cultural experiences do.”

This sense of unity is built into the culture itself. Dance music has always been about inclusivity, freedom, and self-expression – values that help create spaces where people feel accepted and respected.

Beyond the Beat: The Well-Being Benefits of Raving

The impact of dance music goes far beyond the club. Cannon’s 2021 study with researcher Alinka Greasley was the first psychological study to show a direct link between attending dance music events and improved psychological and social well-being.

His research identified four key reasons why dance music culture enhances well-being:

The Emotional Experience – Dance music’s sonic and structural qualities create intense, euphoric highs and can lead to transcendental, mediative experiences.

The Musical Experience – Hypnotic beats and immersive sound design enhance cognitive and sensory engagement, making the experience deeply absorbing.

The Social Experience – Meeting people, moving together, and sharing the moment strengthens bonds and reduces isolation.

The Shared Values – The culture of inclusivity, freedom, and creativity provides a space for self-expression and acceptance.

“Dance music isn’t just about mindless partying and hedonistic escapism, as it’s often portrayed in mainstream media”, Cannon says. “It’s about community, connection, and well-being.”

The Fight for Grassroots Nightlife

Cannon isn’t just researching dance music culture – he’s advocating for it.

“Grassroots venues, promoters, and artists are the lifeblood of dance music,” he says. “But they’re constantly under threat, whether it’s from rising costs, licensing issues, or a lack of recognition for their social and cultural value.”

In 2022, he led an industry-backed report synthesising over 45 academic studies on dance music’s impact on culture, community, and mental health. The findings were later cited in the IMS Business Report 2022 and the UK’s first Electronic Music Report (2023), showing how academic research can shape industry discussions and policymaking.

His message is clear: nightlife isn’t just entertainment, it’s a vital cultural and social institution.

“We need to stop seeing clubs and venues as ‘just places to party’ and start recognising them as community hubs – spaces where people come together, create, and build relationships.”

James speaking live at the Night Time Economy Summit

The Science of the Rave: What’s Happening in Our Brains?

Ever wondered why a packed dancefloor at peak time can feel like a spiritual experience? There’s science behind it.

“When we dance in sync with others, our brain’s neural oscillations align with the tempo of the music,” Cannon explains. “This creates a feedback loop between our sensory and motor systems, heightening our emotional and cognitive engagement.”

This triggers a powerful mix of neurological and physiological responses:

Endorphin release – Dancing together boosts pleasure and reduces pain, making us feel euphoric.

Collective effervescence – The shared energy of the crowd amplifies our emotions, creating an intense sense of unity.

Increased social bonding – Synchronising movement strengthens our connection to those around us.

“These mechanisms are what make raving such a powerful, communal experience,” he says. “It’s why people describe dance music events as life-changing.”

Rave Research in Action: Haze – Sonic Embodiment

Cannon’s latest project is taking music psychology out of academia and into the club.

On April 5th, he’s teaming up with Haze Bristol for Haze: Sonic Embodiment, a unique immersive club event that doubles as a live research study.

Using phone apps and surveys, the project will track real-time movement and social interactions on the dancefloor to explore how people move, feel, and connect through music.

“This is the first time research like this is happening in a real-world club setting,” he says. “It’s a chance to directly contribute to nightlife research while enjoying a free night out.”

With a lineup featuring Gillan, PLANTERA, and variable_self, the event blends techno, trance, house, and psychedelic sounds with a carefully curated, multi-sensory environment.

Want to get involved? Entry is free if you volunteer for the research – it just involves downloading an app and completing a short survey. There are also paid tickets available for those who want to enjoy the event as usual. Tickets and information here!

What’s Next for Dance Music Psychology?

With the field of music psychology growing, Cannon sees exciting possibilities for future research.

“One of my dream projects would be a longitudinal study – following people’s engagement with dance music over the course of their lives to understand its long-term impact.”

For now, his focus is on expanding real-world research and continuing to advocate for nightlife’s cultural and psychological value.

“There’s still so much to explore,” he says. “But one thing’s clear: dance music matters. It’s a powerful force for connection, well-being, and community.”

Follow James Cannon’s projects and research and get involved with Haze: Sonic Embodiment on April 5th.

Research Links:

Dance Music’s Impact on Communities & Culture (2022 industry report)

Exploring Relationships Between Electronic Dance Music Event Participation and Well-being (2021) (Cannon & Greasley, 2021)

The post James Cannon: The Psychology of the Rave first appeared on Fleckies - Discover the best local events in town.

Let’s get into it and find out how Elliott is mixing things up, one beat at a time.

The Beginning of a Journey

Elliott’s love for house music kicked off at iconic festivals like Creamfields and Parklife back in 2017/2018. “I’ve always been into dance music, Fatboy Slim and The Chemical Brothers were on repeat growing up. But it was the buzz of festivals, seeing everyone having the best time, that really lit the spark for me,” he says.

From there, it wasn’t long before he started looking at how he could go beyond just enjoying the music and actually start making a difference in the scene.

Why Start On Road Records?

On Road Records started as Rhoda on Road, a diary of sorts documenting Elliott’s adventures through the UK rave scene. But then the vision got bigger. “I saw how much work DJs were putting into promoting themselves, and I wanted to help. There’s so much talent out there, especially in Northamptonshire. guys like Rhys Alford, Tommy Phillips, Ayme, and the Midnight Mass Boys, but the exposure just wasn’t there.”

Elliott’s answer? A platform that boosts the visibility of local DJs and connects them with event brands that could take them to the next level.

In just three months, On Road Records exploded. We’re talking just shy of 1,000 Instagram followers and a whopping 105,000 monthly views. That success inspired the launch of On Road Artists, Elliott’s management company that currently reps Burnie and Miruna, two DJs poised to make waves in 2025.

The Rewards of the Grind

For Elliott, nothing beats seeing the artists he supports smash their goals. “There’s nothing better than seeing your friends and network absolutely killing it,” he says. One highlight? Watching five DJs from their community land a gig at the Cntrl X Aftercaposile collab for Club Colette Opening.

It’s not just about music for Elliott – it’s about building a community and celebrating wins together.

Kettering’s Influence on the Dream

Kettering might not be the first place that comes to mind when you think of house music, but Elliott’s hometown plays a huge role in shaping On Road Records’ mission. “There’s so much happening locally, like Dance till Dawn’s events tackling the decline in nightlife and Reverb’s massive gigs at The Way Station,” he says.

Elliott is quick to highlight the impact of groups like the Midnight Mass Boys, who brought house music to Kettering’s nightlife, which was previously dominated by drum and bass and grime. “Big up to Jake Jaggard and Andy Bellamy for that!” he adds.

And then there’s Selecta, led by Ryan Clements and the crew, who continue to represent the drum and bass scene with incredible energy and dedication. “They’re flying the flag for DnB, and they do it so well – it’s all part of what makes the local music scene so diverse and exciting,” Elliott shares.

Plus, he points to Music Barn Festival, a local gem that aligns with his vision of nurturing upcoming talent. “Their commitment to supporting new artists mirrors what we’re trying to do at On Road Records. Who knows, there might already be something in the works…”

Big Goals, Big Dreams

What’s next for On Road Records? Elliott’s always thinking a mile a minute, but his vision for the next five years is clear:

Launching as a fully-fledged record label.

Securing regular bookings for his artists (and maybe growing the roster).

Dropping a mix series for up-and-coming DJs.

Running his own events and collaborating with big brands.

Taking On Road Records international – think ADE in Amsterdam or even Ibiza.

How You Can Get Involved

On Road Records is all about inclusivity. “We give every DJ the same opportunity,” says Elliott. Whether you’re just starting out with a home setup or you’ve got videos from a packed gig, On Road Records will find a way to showcase your talent.

You can find them on Instagram and TikTok at @OnRoadRecords_, their Linktree which connects you to everything they’re working on. Oh, and if you’re a DJ looking for a positive community, check out their WhatsApp group with over 200 members from the UK, Holland, Italy, and the US.

2025: Just Getting Started

With big plans and a passion for putting local talent on the map, Elliott and On Road Records are ready to make 2025 their biggest year yet.

So, if you’re all about supporting grassroots music and discovering the next big names in house, keep an eye on On Road Records. This is just the beginning.

The post On Road Records: How Elliott Rhodes is Shaking Up the House Scene first appeared on Fleckies - Discover the best local events in town.