The Rubicon

A few months ago, a group of friends whispered something about heading to an underground party called the Rubicon. I couldn’t go that night, but thinking that I might experience an affair equivalent to a mid-70s Tangerine Dream album, I made it my business to get to a Rubicon rave a few months later. In a subterranean space in Pilsen, club kids and art-school graduates danced to local DJs in a giant smoke-machine cloud. The music was fresh and the sound was shockingly good for a moribund basement, but the real appeal of Rubicon was the custom light show: needle-shaped green lasers that cut through the plumes of smoke, moved around the crowd, and slithered on walls and faces. It was a trippy, disorienting vision, and hopefully the folks behind Rubicon will bring the laser-light spectacle over to their new project, which will take place in a new location under a new name—info I’ll have to keep hush-hush to ensure the authorities don’t extinguish the party.