Ultra Music Festival 2023: What Does ‘Underground’ Even Mean Anymore?

By its very name, “underground” music should be something you have to “dig” for. You have to seek it out, stray a bit from the beaten path and try something that feels a little risky. In this way, it seems diametrically opposed to the “mainstream,” which is very easy to find because it sits at the top of the charts, gets played on the radio (often ad nauseum), and requires little to no research to learn about.

The class war between “mainstream” and “underground” dance music fans has existed for over a decade, since EDM roared into mainstream consciousness and many “serious” heads looked on aghast. This era cemented the idea that those who “do their research” have a one-up on the “uneducated” masses, because underground folk have earned some kind of status by way of taking ownership of their playlists, and mainstream music lovers just take what they’re given.

In the greater conversation of today’s U.S. electronic music industry, the “underground” is usually defined as house and deep house, techno and tech house; while the “mainstream” consists of EDM bangers, dance-pop crossover hits and maybe, sometimes, bass-heavy American dubstep.

But after attending Ultra Music Festival 2023 this past weekend (March 24-26) in Miami’s Bayfront Park, and scoping the lineups of large parties at the surrounding Miami Music Week, the so-called “underground” sound has clearly become as popular, if not more so, than its chart-topping counterpart.

So what are we even talking about now when we talk about underground music and the culture surrounding it?

Indeed, how “underground” is a back-to-back set from house/techno heroes Maceo Plex and Michael Bibi when it draws roughly 10,000 people into a covered stage the size of a small airplane hangar, just a five-minute walk from where Zedd is bringing out the trendiest up-and-coming rapper in the world? (Ice Spice’s cameo on the Ultra mainstage during Zedd’s Saturday night set even inspired hate from EDM fans on the Internet, despite her massive popularity and the fact that her 2021 hit “No Clarity” directly samples one of the star producer’s biggest hits.)

There’s a narrative that lives within dance music; this idea that one is lured to the rave scene by some big EDM pop hit and attends a couple festivals with their friends, mostly hanging around the mainstage to hear familiar favorites. A couple years down the line, if they keep going to dance festivals, they start exploring the side stages and get exposed to house and techno. Soon they trade their daisy bra for a black T-shirt and sunglasses, and now they’ve “evolved” into a “serious dance music fan.”

This narrative is bolstered by many within the industry, whether it’s a promoter trying to book more European acts Stateside or a blogger on Twitter reminding everyone that “we all started at the mainstage,” and surely it fits some people’s actual lived experience. But it also reeks of oversimplification into neat demographics that can be exploited for profit. Surely we all realize that in reality, people are more nuanced than “bass bro” or “black T-shirt techno.”

There are lots of other people who were turned on to dance music by some other means of exploration, and some people skip the dance-pop train entirely. On the way home from Ultra on Sunday night, a friend of mine rattled off intimate life details about Italian house and techno DJ Joseph Capriati, but  had never even heard the name Illenium, and only the latter artist has a Hot 100 tune.

Where does my friend fit in the grand scheme? In fact, right there Ultra Music Festival alongside the Marshmello stans, standing a few feet away from the guy in a Deorro jersey jammin’ out to a tech-house set from Mind Against. Maybe all of our tastes are a little different, but we’re all dancing in the same field.

Yes, there’s something sexy about being part of the “underground.” It’s got a sense of exclusivity, like you’re special for being there, even if tech-house has become the scene’s prevailing genre — one that was nearly unavoidable over the weekend regardless of what stage one was at. The “underground”s exotic allure is the backbone of Ultra’s “Resistance” concept. The brand debuted at the festival in 2015, the same year Major Lazer and DJ Snake released their record-setting “Lean On” and Martin Garrix collaborated with Usher, two feats that represented the peak of EDM’s U.S. radio saturation.

With a debut 2015 lineup that included Tale of Us, Sasha, Jamie Jones and The Martinez Brothers, the idea seemed to be that house and techno DJs were somehow “resisting” the urge to do mainstream pop things, and that those who flocked to the stage were in the cool corner doing something really interesting. It’s not that they weren’t, but it’s hard to argue that anything happening on this massive stage, in front of its massive crowds, was somehow more exclusive than anything else going down in Bayfront Park. It’s even harder to argue now.

Maybe there’s not a huge overlap between the people who want to see Art Department and people who want to see Armin Van Buuren, but ultimately, both those categories of people will spend hundreds of dollars on a ticket, along with airfare, hotels and other amenities during one of the most expensive weeks in Miami tourism. Both acts are really popular. Otherwise, Ultra wouldn’t book them.

Not only are the Resistance stages popular, they’re also highly favored by the overall Ultra brand. Case in point, Ultra’s Resistance residency at newly opened South Beach mega-club M2. It follows in the footsteps of Ultra’s existing and highly lauded Resistance residency in Ibiza, and it debuted this week with performances by house and techno stars Carl Cox, Sasha and John Digweed, Solardo, Anfisa Letyago, Charlotte De Witte and other mainstays of the Resistance brand.

De Witte, the Belgian DJ-producer known for hard-edged dark techno, also made her debut on Ultra’s mainstage on Friday evening. The set was positioned like some kind of coup, with Ultra presenter Damian Pinto asking the audience to show de Witte the same amount of love they would for any of the other more familiar main stage acts, as if this incredibly talented and well-known international DJ accidentally ended up on the festival’s biggest stage without anyone having have ever heard of her. 

Was it the first time a “serious” techno DJ played the Ultra main stage? Maybe, but Deadmau5 has played here, and he’s no stranger to the genre. Hardwell’s big comeback set last year was pretty dark and bangin’, both emphasizing and capitalizing on  how popular the style has become for audiences worldwide. To act like de Witte’s performance was some kind of wild upset seems a little disingenuous, and a bit patronizing to audiences overall.

Dance world classism is so entrenched, it’s begun to affect the artists themselves. A producer friend who wasn’t playing Ultra this year but who came to the festival to hang and support her peers talked about the disappearance of “middle class DJs” – a phenomenon not dissimilar to the current economic crisis that’s diminished the strength of a true American middle class. 

According to her, some artists feel they have to choose between high-paying, seemingly “mainstream” gigs like Ultra, EDC Vegas and the like, or walk a “more honorable” path playing “culturally-rich” spaces for much lower fees. It’s a decision that’s become increasingly difficult as corporate interests take control of the scene, and one that suggests the amount of money artists make or number of people they play in front of somehow defines the quality of their art. But it’s dangerous thinking, both in terms of how it might limit creativity, and in the sense of the welfare of artists who’d shirk financial gain for fear of losing credibility.

Ultimately, this week’s Ultra and Miami Music Week proved that “underground” house and techno is really popular in the United States — just like many scenesters critical of EDM during the boom days hoped it someday would be. If you needed more proof, consider the 5,000-capacity mini festivals thrown at Miami venue Factory Town every night last week, including the sold-out Afterlife showcase featuring Tale of Us, Camelphat and Mathame, who then played to massive crowds at Ultra’s Resistance Megastructure four days later.

But at the end of the day, if one really loves music, “popular” shouldn’t be a dirty word. Tastes change and evolve over time, on micro and macro scales, but it’s slippery to suggest that the type of music one likes says anything about one’s value or intelligence as a human. (Case in point is M83, who played Ultra back in 2012 and who recently faced backlash from DJs on Twitter for saying he regrets any crossover EDM fame, due to his distaste for the fans that scene brought him.)

This past weekend, it was cool when Kayzo’s live guitarist stood on a cage while fire spit from every corner of the Ultra live stage. It was really cool when a giant, 3-D lineup of exterminators shot cryo over the crowd at Eric Prydz’ stunning Holo show in the Megastructure. It was dope that Swedish House Mafia played Fred Again.. tracks between the trio’s classic hits as they closed out the main stage on Sunday and it was fun when Kaskade and deadmau5 bantered back and forth like besties while spinning on giant, glowing cubes. It was sick when Tiësto dropped drum’n’bass out of nowhere, and it was neat to hear Carl Cox create a live remix of Daft Punk’s “Around The World” on the fly.

As genres continue melting into one another, “underground” music draws massive crowds, and the mainstage gets increasingly experimental, it’s hard to argue that many (or any) true “rules” to dance music remain. But — from the mainstage to the Resistance stage to all the places where mainstream and underground overlapped and to musical moments beyond — much of what went down at Ultra 2023 made people dance. Certainly, that remains the best test of what’s good.