I Went to a ‘Pokémon GO’ Rave

Pokémon and raves are already a match made in heaven. Projecting anime on a screen over thumping dance music—whether in a grimy warehouse or a festival mainstage—is a cliché as old as the genre itself. With its sunny disposition, bright colors, and instantly recognizable characters and accessories, Pokémon does what grim clips of Cowboy Bebop cannot: get people hyped.

With the mobile game juggernaut Pokémon GO permeating every part of culture around the globe and reinvigorating a fandom most players didn’t realize they had lying dormant inside themselves, the mood never seemed more perfect to finally marry Pokémon and rave culture in earnest.

Recognizing this pop culture confluence, Cesar Mendoza—CEO and owner of Plur Eventz, an L.A.-based event planning company—decided to capitalize on the trend after taking note of how much his crew was enjoying Pokémon GO.

“I was playing it, and my friends were playing it, so I thought it would be fun to do a Pokémon rave where everyone could play and rave together,” he explained before going on to point out that his favorite creature from the series is “Ghastly—the Pokémon, not the DJ.”

Like Mendoza—and any red-blooded American who hasn’t completely destroyed their own inner child—I too had been playing GO since its release in early July. Even though I hadn’t had more than a passing thought about the brand in close to 15 years, I was having a blast with it. Always down for some live music as well, I decided to go to the event and see for myself the spectacle of ravers rolling Pokéballs and looking for candy.

I arrived at the rave venue—Florentine Gardens, in the heart of Hollywood—and immediately grasped what sort of night I was in for. As lights and bass bounced outside of the open front door, I got in a line full of giddy attendees, decked out in the usual kandi and revealing fare, albeit with overt Pokémon twists.

I spoke with Aries, a girl from Covina with a Misty costume that somehow found a way to be skimpier than the original character’s. She told me she was “intrigued by the concept” of that evening’s rave, and as a fan of the game and series from all the way back into the recesses of her childhood, her curiosity got the better of her, and she had to come see it for herself. Hers would be a recurring sentiment throughout the night.

Once inside the venue, I took a moment to gather my bearings and absorb the sights, sounds, and shuffling surrounding me. A bounce-house covered in Pichus sat in the center of the room, wiggling and occasionally buckling from the frenzy inside it. The DJ onstage, Kinetick, played some standard house beats as the crowd in front of him breakdanced, grinded, and spun their fiber-optic whips around.

There was a number of subtle homage or half-costumes in the crowd—an Ash hat or fingerless gloves here and there—but a few of the dancers went all-in on some rather impressive costumes. Naturally, there were scores of Pikachus, and one guy even dressed up as a Togepi. Couple Tony and Kimberly came dressed as Ash and Venusaur, complete with a detailed, blooming flower on Kimberly’s head.

Ruby and EJ, another couple, went the villain route, dressing as Cassidy and Butch from Team Rocket. “We grew up with the show, and now we play the game all the time together,” Ruby told me.

Bonding over Pokémon GO is an oft-reported phenomenon, but hearing about it firsthand warms the cockles of your heart more than reading about it ever could. It truly mitigates the torrent of salt these AR trainers can’t seem to avoid from those on the internet who would question their maturity, simply because they play the game.

Despite all the costumery and decorations pertaining to the Japanese series, what I saw very little of at the Pokémon GO rave was people playing Pokémon GO. I realized only on my way out the door that I hadn’t opened the app once to try and catch the rare Pokémon the Facebook event page had promised me (thought that spoke to the proprietor’s fundamental understanding of how the game spawns them more than anything). I, like everyone else there, had been too consumed by the parade of Charizards with abs and Snorlaxes with booties to check and see if either of them were within my vicinity in the game.

Mendoza told me some of the promoters had placed lures in modules during the event, and a few rares had show up, but he reassured me that wasn’t important. “As long as you had fun—that’s what it’s all about.” I did have fun. As far as Thursday nights go, there are a lot worse ways I could’ve spent my time.

On the walk back to my car, I opened up Pokémon GO, and a Dratini immediately popped up on my screen, ready to be caught. I threw one of my dwindling stockpiled Ultraballs at it. The throw connected, and my quarry disappeared into its spherical prison. The ball rocked twice before Dratini popped back out and ran off in a cloud of smoke.

I laughed in frustration at the taunt the universe had thrown at me and considered whether or not to trawl the area, looking for another chance to catch one. But it was almost 1am, and just as you can’t chase the party forever, sometimes you have to let rare Pokémon get away, too.