Why Spiral Tribe chose number 23 as the symbol for rave culture

 A relatively brief history of the 23 enigma and its most iconic free party promoters

Image credit: Disco fever in 'Out of Order' by Molly Macindoe

It’s a common sight at the free party - I see it at least 23 times a year. Outside a barn on a dark and distant plain, a camouflaged soul weaves their way through the crowd. Inside the place, a troupe of giddy ravers are moshing to the booms, thuds and claps of the hardest trance. The big beat machine pounds, its wooden structure electrified and pulsating with rocking basslines heightened by massive lines and fifteen cans of Stella. Scattered chaotically amongst the crowd I see it - on the back of a crusty hoodie, sports jersey or stitched onto a t-shirt - the number 23. Always there without fail, not so much lurking in the background, but loudly championed by the most rambunctious ravers. The question is - why that naughty little number?

Images left to right: Kacper and Zadie wear Tekno Tee, Dayvian Sweatpant, Tekno Hoodie, Flower Power Tekno Hoodie
Designed by Jonty K. Mellmann, photographed by Tobias Kruse

The short answer is very simple; “SP23 - Never too much!”

SP stands for Spiral Tribe, and 23 is their lucky number, of sorts. Spiral Tribe - alongside Bedlam, Circus Warp, DiY, Exodus, and undoubtedly many more iconic artist collectives and sound systems - pioneered the free party scene in the early 1990s. They were arguably the first to do it. The first to play so long at a party that they spun their Acid House records at 45 instead of 33 rpm, just to change up the tune and the tempo after so many hours. This was the birth of Tekno; a sound unique from, but not entirely unrelated to, Techno.

Image credit: Klasse Wrecks, KFAX #10, 2021 in ‘Dirty Dancing’ by Mattia Zoppellaro

It’s a badge of honour to be an SP23 member; arguably the highest rank of rave. So many appreciate its influence, that they find their own ways to pay homage to it - whether that is in their own sound systems’ Instagram handle, a tattoo they have, or in the ephemera of their own creative output. I constantly use the number 23 in my own work for this same reason. But what does it mean?

Image credit:  Spiral Tribe Poster in ‘Future Fantasy’ by Vinca Peterson and Ditto

It all begins most clearly in the subcultural subconscious with the Fortean Times: a magazine dedicated to unusual events and rips in the fabric of reality. In their 23rd issue, an article by Robert Anton Wilson started a trail of crumbs that most Wikipedia articles, rave websites and indeed myself follow in the hope of unfurling the tall and terrifying tale of the 23 enigma.

The story begins when artist and writer William Burroughs started to notice strange things happening in connection to the number 23. Much to Burroughs’ dismay, his old pal Captain Clark woefully perished on the day of his 23rd year at sea. Later that evening, on the radio, he heard of another Captain Clark - this time faring by way of air rather than sea - who also unfortunately crashed down and met his maker. And guess what? It was on Flight Number 23. How spooky! Burroughs had just caught wind of a chain of bizarre numerical synchronicities and thus swiftly began hoarding examples of 23 and its bizarre effects - a fascination that he would continue to pursue and peruse for the rest of his life.

Initially sceptical, but fuelled by its oddity, Wilson used his curious eye and knack for conspiratorial texts to amass further examples of the 23 enigma. In his Fortean Times article, he writes about how each cell in the human body has 23 pairs of chromosomes; how in numerology 23 is a master number associated with individuality, creativity and intuition and how in an old stage production of Charles Dickens’ ‘A Tale of Two Cities’, the central character Sidney Carlton is the 23rd man to be guillotined. His research could convince even the most straight-laced individual to entertain the idea that the number has some form of chaotic power.

But, what does Charlie Dickens have to do with rave music I hear you cry?

WELL! The bizarre slang expression for a hasty departure “23 skidoo” is supposedly related to poor old Sidney’s beheading. “23 Skidoo” is not only the name of a short story Burroughs’ published in 1967 but also a rather influential industrial-noise-trance band. The band was born out of the UK’s thriving counter-cultural movements of the 1970s and 80s, who consciously chose to (dis)engage with mainstream culture, challenging it head-on.

Their artistic questioning and innovative attitude was in part influenced by Burroughs, as well as the various artistic-hippie communes and squats of the time - such as the COUM Transmissions HQ in Hull. This counter-cultural lifestyle, based on hippie, anarcho-syndicalist and/or Marxist ethics, was an attempt to live as their true selves and in turn connect to something greater - a mindset that leads us from the 1970s to the 1990s rave scene.

Image credit:  River Conversation by Vinca Petersen, 1994. Courtesy the artist and Edel Assanti, London

Whilst very much its own subculture, many 90s ravers shared the same agenda as their hippie predecessors. Their philosophy was to be of the people and for the people, and to have a bloody good time in the face of a seemingly undefeatably meaningless mainstream culture.

Image credit:  Milan, 1998 in 'Dirty Dancing' by Mattia Zoppellaro

“We are not Spiral Tribe, you are all Spiral Tribe, it’s you that makes the party happen’ - MC Scallywag, Altered States, p.216

Spiral Tribe were innovating in a similar sphere. Only a few years prior to their ecstatic establishment, at parties such as Shoom and Clink Street, Acid House was born. London was still full of soul boys and Jazz clubs, so for many this bleepy-bloopy-ravey thing was a real revolution. Spiral Tribe were key to the dawning of this new era.

‘At the [Camelford] Festival, people […] were riveted, then transformed. On one side of the arena was the rock stage, where psychedelic veterans like Hawkwind were playing. On the other side was Spiral Tribe. In front of the bands, a few drunks moshed frantically or sprawled woozily in the grass. Around the sound system, 2,000 people were jumping, prancing and smiling’ suffused with the mania of revelation. The new rite was visibly eclipsing the old.’ - Matthew Collins, ‘Altered States’, p.217

Image credit:  Petriolo, 2003 in 'Dirty Dancing' by Mattia Zoppellaro

Notably, Spiral Tribe often held their parties on the 23rd of the month in the hope of causing enough chaos in the universe to achieve a big fat rave. And they were indeed rather successful! So much so that they began to attract a lot of public attention. Some members attribute this fame to their ‘first in, last out’ policy - first to set up the speakers, last to switch off the sounds.

Image credit: Aerial photograph of Castlemorton Common free party, 1992

This got them in a little bit of a pickle at the infamous Castlemorton Common free party. This being the party that helped birth a rave-olution but also attracted enough negative media coverage to incite a new Criminal Justice Bill. The party lasted for one week in September 1992, with 20,000 or more attendees and a dozen or so sound systems and crews even setting up large festival-scale tents. Its huge scale, long duration and the absence of policing or licensing gained an unprecedented amount of uproar.

“Following the events at Castlemorton festival, open air raves were identified as a target for police operations. Any information, no matter how small, on New Age Travellers or the rave scene was to be logged onto police databases for future intelligence. The Home Office tacked ravers on their CJA top ten social deviant list, by outlawing sound-systems and making criminals of their owners. 1997 saw more legislation, manpower and resources mobilised to close down free parties than ever before.”

Image credit:  Notice to Leave: Section 63 is Served, detail, p.220 from ‘Out of Order’ by Molly Macindoe.

In my view, the authorities clamped down on free party crews and new age travellers because they proposed a viable lifestyle alternative to the mainstream; or at least a few hours spent on a dirty dancefloor outside of the constraints of capitalism. This is something artist Jeremy Deller puts across in his video - Everybody in the Place. Whilst there was surely some questionable behavior by a select few at the party, as there is in all walks of life -  ‘people [...] came to dance but also needed to eat, sleep, relieve themselves, have sex and all the other things that us humans like to do.’

Image credit:  Daybreak, NYE party, Rome, 2002 by Shauna Gavin

Their newfound stardom and subsequent prosecutions prodded many of the Spiral Tribe to flee to Europe, and in doing so they brought the UK free party scene into a new context, helping to spawn a completely new booming and bustling culture of raves which became known as ‘Teknivals’. It’s out of respect for their creation of this culture that many ravers wear the number 23. It’s a sign and sigil of the movement. From London’s dystopian abandoned warehouses all the way to the South West’s stunning fields, It’s a nod to the OGs. It reminds us of our pure love of the dance, with all its trials and tribulations.

Image credit:  Courcelles free festival and rave, France, 1997  by Shauna Gavin

Image credit: Joe Rush photographed by Alan Lodge

In the Bible, Psalm 23 guides us through the valley of death. The text is meant to empower lost souls in their contact with darkness and guide them through it. It’s also not a bad mantra to recite to help you crawl out of a bad trip (try it!), and perhaps also for this reason was painted on the lapel of artist Joe Rush’s leather jacket - who was an integral part of the legendary performance arts group Mutoid Waste Company. I myself, recently drew it onto the lapel of a coat commissioned by my dear friend and fellow raver, Francesco.

So when you see the 23 on my items, it’s to invite a bit of fruitful chaos onto the dancefloor and your daily life - a bit of the butterflies in the stomach, burgeoning with excitement feeling. I’m hoping to create rips in the cosmic web that in turn end up creating lasting memories. It helps, in its own very chaotic way, to protect and guide you, akin to wearing the evil eye, a rabbit’s foot or tattooing an old piece of scripture.

Whether you are a gematraic fanatic, a distinguished numerologist or just your average Joe Bloggs jeans wearing punter, wearing the number is a sign of your rank as a real MFing raver! From one set of hands to another the enigmatic number is handed down from raver to raver - manifesting, warping and changing like a DJ mixing. It enlivens the earthy and euphoric dancefloor, asking of the Gods of chaos to let the party happen. Now the question is, how do we keep the party rocking? 

Images left to right: Kacper and Zadie wear C.R.A.P Tee, Dayvian Sweatpant, Flower Power Tekno Hoodie, Tekno Tee
Designed by Jonty K. Mellmann, photographed by Tobias Kruse