Over the August bank holiday weekend in the UK, 54-year-old Conservative Party MP Michael Gove was spotted dancing to techno at an Aberdeen nightclub. The outing resulted in countless comment pieces about whether it was appropriate for Gove to be out clubbing, particularly at his age. Good Morning Britain interviewed 22 year-old Scottish singer Tallia Storm, asking her to give her opinion. She said she thought people over 40 shouldn't be allowed in nightclubs and that she'd be appalled to find her dad or his friends out clubbing.

Storm highlighted that clubs and festivals are traditionally spaces dominated by patrons in their 20s, who, unlike many older people, have the freedom from responsibilities to dance from late night to early morning. But what happens to DJs and promoters as they age into their late 30s, 40s and beyond? Do their decades of experience mean anything in places dominated by young people?

Manchester-based 54-year-old DJ Paulette saw the Good Morning Britain interview on Twitter, and replied with two words: "Fuck. Off." But barring Paulette, a veteran of 1990s Haçienda, who became a resident at London's Ministry of Sound before moving to Paris in 2004 and continuing her career in Ibiza from 2013, there were few DJs and music industry professionals engaged in the comment thread. Unlike other forms of discrimination, ageism isn't something that's taken particularly seriously in electronic music. As Harold Heath wrote in a 2019 DJ Mag article, "Although the dance music community is generally quick to respond when a well-known DJ or producer makes a racist or homophobic 'joke,' jokes about age aren't given the same attention or considered as harmful."

Research such as the World Health Organization's 2021 Global Report on Ageism asserts that ageism "has serious and far-reaching consequences for people's health, well-being and human rights." It can be institutional, where laws, rules, policies and practices restrict opportunities and systematically disadvantage individuals because of their age; interpersonal, arising from interactions between individuals; or self-directed, where the public's unfavorable perception of older age is internalised. As such, the authors argue, ageism is "prevalent, ubiquitous and insidious," but alarmingly, goes largely unrecognised and unchallenged. The report suggests that across the life course, "ageism interacts with ableism, sexism and racism," thus compounding existing disadvantages.

DJ Paulette

Ageism within dance music disproportionately affects women, who are already held up under more critical scrutiny than men. In an interview with DJ Paulette for the chapter I wrote on ageism and sexism in the Manchester club scene for The Evolution of Electronic Dance Music, she pointed out, "No one says Pete Tong, Carl Cox or David Guetta are over the hill, but when a female DJ hits 40, they're seen as being too old." Music industry scholar Tami Gadir also highlights this intersection of ageism and sexism in her 2017 paper "Forty-Seven DJs, Four Women: Meritocracy, Talent and Postfeminist Politics" for the electronic music journal Dancecult, arguing that ageism is built into gender disciplining, which she describes as "the 'expiry date' imposed on women." She goes on to assert that "despite the presence of high profile women in dance music in their 40s and beyond making inroads in the industry, older women who DJ are still not the idealised norm."

In the same chapter, Manchester-based collective Disco Mums' Julie Wills shared a similar view, commenting that "After 40 there's an image then, you're a mum, you're past it." She described the Disco Mums being initially perceived as a novelty act and sometimes asked to play children's parties, while Pikes nightclub in Ibiza asked them to change their name. Ruth Allan, a journalist who began DJing on the Manchester scene in the early 2000s, becoming a resident at Islington Mill club night Club Brenda, reported feeling similarly "past it" as she neared 40 and became a mother. The point was echoed by Sarah Sweeney, a Cardiff-based DJ whom I interviewed for this article ahead of her playing ENRG at Liverpool's Invisible Wind Factory alongside Floating Points and Anz this October, who underlined that parenthood exacerbates the difficulties of ageing in the electronic music scene, not least because childcare becomes an additional problem. "It’s just assumed that [childcare] will be taken care of by the other parent," she said, while adding, "I don’t know what that means for single mothers or fathers."

DJ Mag’s annual Top 100 DJs reader poll also points to the fact that mainstream club culture does not want to see older female DJs on lineups. The poll’s winners have historically included very few women in general, with female representation improving only marginally in the 2010s. In comparison, 53-year-old David Guetta topped the poll three times since 2011, most recently in 2021. Other over-40 men also usually feature heavily in the poll, often in the top 10. This year, 44-year-old Armin van Buuren came in at no. 3, while 43-year-old Steve Aoki took the number 10 spot.

Sarah Sweeney

For DJ Paulette, the "expiry date" as described by Gadir coincided with her hair turning grey, when she was working in Paris, DJing on the EDM scene alongside acts like David Guetta. "I was at a key meeting in 2012, sat at dinner with three promoters—one from Ibiza, one from England, and one from Amsterdam—and all three of them said, 'There is no promoter in the world who will employ a Black female DJ with grey hair," she remembered. "It was a tipping point for me, because it showed me that no matter what I did, there was this spectre of age that I was going to have to deal with for the next however many years if I wanted to continue doing what I was doing."

DJ Paulette also described her age as a barrier to being "seen" by younger promoters and bookers, who she says have a narrow criteria for desirable DJs. She ascribed this to their belief that a producer's social media follower count and Beatport chart positions are more important than experience, skill and exposure in music media. "You need 20,000 followers on Twitter, you need 100,000 followers on Instagram, you need 150,000 followers on Facebook, or you can forget it," she said.

Rebekah Farrugia echoes this point in her influential 2012 book Beyond the Dance Floor: Female DJs, Technology and Electronic Dance Music Culture. She attributes the undue influence of social media in electronic music to the industry’s growing alignment with neoliberalism’s profit-driven underpinnings, writing that "Unlike the 1990s and early 2000s […] today, dance clubs are increasingly hiring young (under age 25) celebrities and models as DJs, despite their limited experience or skills and without regard to their musical interests."

Dutch selector DJ Marcelle, whose signature three-turntable style and unpredictable selections have earned her a reputation as one of the most forward-thinking DJs out there, said that collectively, artists put too much emphasis on what bookers think, posing the question, "Are DJs service providers or artists in their own right?" She elaborated: "The majority of bookers, and maybe also artists, are too occupied with the 'pleasing the audience' bit," which she said results in "one-dimensional technique, coolness and pleasing." She asserts that this is dangerous for women, who, influenced by what she describes as "a male form of DJing," can also end up being one-dimensional, which means that they're not distinctive enough to foster sustainable careers within what's essentially a sexist environment that gives them far less opportunity to prove themselves. And, while she concedes that bookers have power, she said, "Would you want to be dependent on bookers who think like this?"

DJ Marcelle

But ageism is prevalent even within supposedly more open-minded and inclusive spaces, such as LGBTQ+ events. 58-year-old Carol Bushell, AKA BB, who started DJing when her daughter left home for university, setting up the Manchester club night Supernature Disco alongside husband Richard Ward six years ago, described instances of her status as a DJ being questioned at queer parties such as the annual Come As You Are event at Manchester's Refuge. "I've had comments like, 'What are you doing here? Are you the cleaner?'" Another time, she said, a male clubber told her, "I was really surprised when you came out because you're dressed like a granny, and you played this really dirty, sexy music, which shocked me."

DJ Marcelle said she has a zero tolerance policy towards such age-based labels. "When bookers try to brand or describe me as an 'older woman', even 'grandma,' I make it clear that I won't come to their event, or if I am already booked, I cancel. I refuse to be treated as an object." She added that she can allow herself the luxury of turning down gigs because she is in demand in countries across the world. Aside from her uncompromising approach to how she plays, DJ Marcelle ascribed her longevity partly to her confidence. "My age helps me in this since it's my experience that has meant I have grown more confident over the years," she said, adding, "Because of my age, a lot of young women see me as a role model." DJ Paulette, who spoke to me fresh off a set at Amsterdam's Dekmantel festival, concurred with DJ Marcelle's statement about confidence, saying that "age makes a lot of difference to the way I DJ because I know a lot more music than other people, I've DJ’d in a lot more clubs and countries than other people."

The influential clubbing scholar Sarah Thornton theorises that older people's investment in nightlife is a resistance towards ageing, making it an uphill battle for ageing DJs when it comes to representation within club culture. And, because legal protections against gender discrimination in the workplace are more challenging to uphold in nightclubs—DJs are often self-employed—it might be the case that older female-identifying DJs face the highest discrimination of all.

Sweeney asserts that male DJs have a role to play in changing attitudes towards older women among bookers and ravers alike. "The next evolution is to get more male DJ allies, who include some of this in their riders," she said. "If there's not proportional representation on lineups, they don't play." She also cites the 2018 Step Aside, Brother campaign, launched to accelerate the recruitment of women to more high-profile roles within Scottish trade unions, as something for male DJs to participate in. "If this world that we live in and the music that we listen to has formed our values, then really the right thing to do is champion, step aside or understand, why these spaces need to be taken up by people who are traditionally discriminated against," she said.

Carol Bushell, Richard Ward from Supernature

In the meantime, changing circumstances resulting from the Covid-19 pandemic are potentially advancing bookers' attitudes to older female DJs as more mainstream nightclubs turn to local acts. One such space is Manchester's Warehouse Project, whose 2021 lineup features an impressive number of older women, many of whom come from the city's local scene (DJ Paulette and BB are among them). "We just want to create as diverse a programme as we can, and having a unique mix of younger and more established artists on a lineup actually elevates any one event into something more impactful," explained Warehouse Project founder Sam Kandel over email. But he does concede that ageism is inevitable in club culture: "The idea that someone who has enjoyed or worked in electronic music should be gradually ostracised as they get older is obviously unacceptable, but unfortunately in a scenario like dance music, which has always been so entwined with youth culture and disruption, it's likely to rear its head."

BB said that while Supernature viewed the decision to book them for this season's Warehouse Project as partly a business move to save money, it was also an acknowledgement of the work they've put into building up their following during the pandemic. "They've got to find a way of attracting people to come to the gigs, and people like us, who are making a noise on the internet, are going to be good for them," she said. Supernature's investment in building their online presence throughout lockdown has paid off. Those who discovered them through podcasts and radio shows are coming from outside Manchester to see them play. This also includes older fans of electronic dance music, who might have long given up clubbing pre-pandemic, but who have a renewed thirst for living life to the fullest, and are thus re-discovering nightclubs. "During our first event back in August, several people came up to me and said they'd booked accommodation and travelled from afar," BB said, "including quite a few middle-aged women."

Scenes outside of the UK demonstrate that intergenerational clubbing is possible. For example, in Berlin, where nightclubs are considered cultural institutions, going out is seen as similar to watching a play or visiting an art gallery, and younger ravers are keen to party alongside those who experienced the city’s '90s golden era. As described by author Joe Muggs in Mixmag, there is also a spirit of intergenerational collaboration in sound system culture, as often seen at Notting Hill Carnival. And increasingly, there are showcases of older DJs going back-to-back with younger ones, such as Special Request playing alongside Chloé Robinson (formerly known as Barely Legal) at this year’s Warehouse Project.

Whether some of these changes—a renewed interest in clubbing among older fans of electronic dance music, and crucially, more bookings for older female DJs—are long term remains to be seen. Wider society is witnessing intensifying intergenerational tensions, especially as Generation Z blames baby boomers, and even millennials, for the world's ills. But maybe the dance floor is a place to heal some of those rifts, and realise there is more that connects us than divides us.