- 20 years ago, Tulum was little more than a single intersection on a highway. If you wanted to stay overnight, your best bet was to bring a tent, though you might have been able to find a cabin with no electricity. Now, it has a higher density of celebrity chefs and boutique hotels than most US cities, and it's growing so fast you can count entire blocks of new bars and restaurants that have sprung up from one year to the next. As a result, it's also become a can't-miss stop for big name tech house DJs who want to keep the beach party going while Ibiza lies dormant. The ban on large electronic music events in nearby Playa Del Carmen, following the death of five people at BPM Festival last year, has also sent droves of partygoers south to Tulum during the winter season.
Comunité stands apart from the competition, though it's expanded at an equally rapid clip since it began three years ago. The day-long festival is now one of the most ambitious dance music events in Mexico, with bookings that look beyond the usual tech house circuit coupled with one of the most spectacular venues on the continent. With three stages reachable by winding jungle paths, the venue's crowning jewel was its cenote, a clear water pool connected to a system of flooded caves. The programming balanced road-tested festival favorites like Carl Craig and Rhadoo with headier experimental stuff, such as James Holden & The Animal Spirits and Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith, and a handful of cult DJs.
Holden and his band were in especially good form during their 6 AM performance, with Holden's modular synths backed by live drums, saxophone and trumpet. His spiraling loops and arpeggios, which matched jazzy flourishes with big proggy melodies, swelled with feeling while sidestepping cheesy tropes. The grandeur of the music suited the energy of the space, and the crowd went crazy for it. On the same stage a couple hours earlier, an electrifying Cuban singer called Dayme Arocena moved elegantly between modern soul, Latin jazz and Afro-Caribbean roots music with her three-piece backing band. It was a curveball booking for a festival built mostly on house music, but it was an excellent palate cleanser for the heavy rave session to follow.
Japan's Kuniyuki was a highlight of the smallest stage, which was tucked into a natural amphitheater of sloping gravel. Armed with a couple of no-nonsense sequencers and synths, his loopy, low-tempo machine funk was a pleasure to dance to. Over at the mid-sized Lunar Stage, Dial Records founder Lawrence played one of the most enticing straight-ahead DJ sets. His selections balanced strange and intriguing textures with clever grooves, tracing circles around a classy deep house sound that didn't shy away from melody. Mexican artist Murcof played on the same stage some time around 10 AM, interrupting the sunny festival vibes with a bewildering set of dark, cinematic music. It was a strange scheduling choice, though some of the more enthusiastic ravers found ways to move to his heavily abstracted techno.
Depending on who you asked, Comunité's marathon timetable was either a strength or a weakness. Adventurous selectors like Eris Drew, Olin and Solar were back-loaded into the later daytime component, which started at around 10 AM. That meant you had to pull a fairly exhausting shift if you wanted to catch Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith at 11 PM on Friday and Solar at 11 AM the following morning. (You could have a cheeky nap at one of the many hammocks strung up throughout the site.) But the venue's remote, transcendent beauty also made it feel like its own little world outside of time, the kind of place where you could forget about consequences and responsibilities. And the crowd was certainly up for it—as I made my way to the parking lot around noon, with Rhadoo rinsing sparse, bass-heavy percussive grooves in the background, there were plenty of fresh recruits still streaming in from the entrance. It made me think that next year I should try arriving Berghain-style, freshly rested at 8 AM with a cup of coffee in hand.
Photo credit /
Aleks Sol - Kuniyuki
Japan's Kuniyuki was a highlight of the smallest stage, which was tucked into a natural amphitheater of sloping gravel. Armed with a couple of no-nonsense sequencers and synths, his loopy, low-tempo machine funk was a pleasure to dance to. Over at the mid-sized Lunar Stage, Dial Records founder Lawrence played one of the most enticing straight-ahead DJ sets. His selections balanced strange and intriguing textures with clever grooves, tracing circles around a classy deep house sound that didn't shy away from melody. Mexican artist Murcof played on the same stage some time around 10 AM, interrupting the sunny festival vibes with a bewildering set of dark, cinematic music. It was a strange scheduling choice, though some of the more enthusiastic ravers found ways to move to his heavily abstracted techno. Depending on who you asked, Comunité's marathon timetable was either a strength or a weakness. Adventurous selectors like Eris Drew, Olin and Solar were back-loaded into the later daytime component, which started at around 10 AM. That meant you had to pull a fairly exhausting shift if you wanted to catch Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith at 11 PM on Friday and Solar at 11 AM the following morning. (You could have a cheeky nap at one of the many hammocks strung up throughout the site.) But the venue's remote, transcendent beauty also made it feel like its own little world outside of time, the kind of place where you could forget about consequences and responsibilities. And the crowd was certainly up for it—as I made my way to the parking lot around noon, with Rhadoo rinsing sparse, bass-heavy percussive grooves in the background, there were plenty of fresh recruits still streaming in from the entrance. It made me think that next year I should try arriving Berghain-style, freshly rested at 8 AM with a cup of coffee in hand. Photo credit / Aleks Sol - Kuniyuki