Ultra Veteran Status: What I've Learned After Going to the Festival for 13 Years

Shortly before the second week of Ultra Music Festival two-weekender in 2013, a friend in my high-school philosophy class asked me, "Do you like Carl Cox?" This was the era of peak dubstep and EDM, and with one year of Ultra already under my belt, I heard the name in passing. This led to more questions: "Have you heard of Luciano? Do you know Adam Beyer? What about Sven Väth? He's so good." I made mental notes.

It was after seeing Carl Cox in 2012 that it all changed. It was a radical departure from the Main Stage: nonstop transitions, repetition, and bright honeycomb-styled lights overhead in the Megastructure. Once the smoke literally cleared after Cox dropped some restless tech-house track, he had me for life.

If my math is correct, my total count of seeing Cox play is 33. That friend and Ultra informed my music decisions and made life-long bonds. From loving underground acts like Skee Mask or Boards of Canada to purchasing the 60th-anniversary vinyl piece of A Love Supreme or Julee Cruise's Floating Into the Night, Ultra was the seed from which all my other musical interests germinated.

As Ultra celebrated 25 years this year, I reflected on the lessons I learned after attending 13 editions.

Stay curious

It's easy to get sucked into one stage the whole weekend — I am guilty of this myself. But Ultra encourages stage hopping and finding your sound. If it hadn't been for straying away from some friends to head to the Megastructure, who knows what would have happened? I make room to see one act I know little about and see what happens. This year, it was Kshmr, whose use of live violinists, trumpeters, and taiko drummers was a perfect clash between machine and human. There is also curiosity about where it all originated. Why did Ultra select those acts for its first edition? What city really invented techno? Does it even matter? Letting your curiosity peak and seeing what the genre has to offer apart from John Summit and Hardwell can make one appreciate the true breadth of the scene.

Go with the trends

Unfortunately, finding love in the underground sound can make one believe it is the truest form of electronic music. But casting aside all of the mainstream music is a disservice to yourself. Over the years, Ultra has encouraged me to remember the pieces of music that got me to the festival grounds — "Strobe" by Deadmau5 and Swedish House Mafia's "Leave the World Behind," for example. It took time, but the ability to be open to many different sounds is worth nurturing.

Wear earplugs

This goes without saying. I could not have done 13 Ultras and counting without earplugs. No one could, or should, for that matter. Even a cheap piece of rubber in the ear will prevent catastrophic hearing loss. I take mine wherever there will be music, including the Björk orchestral show a couple of years ago.

Appreciate the year-long wait

It's amazing how much Ultra stays with you, whether it's the melancholy from the Monday after or excitement from seeing that Phase 1 lineup in the winter. For most of the year, going to Ultra remains a memory. Looking back and seeing how a music festival made you feel, which sets you to listen to again and again, and the sights, sounds, and smell of downtown Miami during Miami Music Week is an instant boost. Of course, there is always peace knowing Ultra will do something special next year.

Go see Carl Cox

Anyone with even the slightest affinity for electronic music — scratch that — anyone who likes music should see Carl Cox, ideally at Ultra under his Megastructure. His ability to inject a raw, primal energy into his sets is worthy of praise. Two DJs can play the same track, but if you're up against Cox, he will have the competitive edge. His track selection, charisma, and loyalty to his craft are unparalleled by any other artist. It doesn't matter if he goes light or dark; his brand of stadium techno is transformative. There is not a single set of his where I don't smile, appreciating the moment and looking back at the times under the Miami night sky at a festival in the heart of a metropolis.