Hey everyone. Shawn here. I just wanted to quickly mention that this article is by April Clare Welsh, a Lisbon-based music and culture journalist who’s originally from the UK, and whose byline has appeared in The Guardian, FACT, DJ Mag, Bandcamp Daily, Beatportal, Resident Advisor, Mixmag, Dazed, Crack, The Wire and countless other publications. Long story short, if you’ve been reading about electronic music at any time during the past decade-plus, you’ve almost certainly seen her work. Much of that work has, not surprisingly, focused on music and the artists who make it, but Welsh is also interested in systemic issues and examining the bigger picture; her recent article about Lisbon’s DIY scene (and the way it’s been upended by rampant gentrification) was particularly strong on that front. This is her first contribution to First Floor, and it ventures further afield, taking a look at how electronic music is butting up against the Egyptian Pyramids and other heritage sites around the world.
One of the most striking visuals from Anyma’s controversial ten-hour DJ set and cybernetic A/V show at the Pyramids of Giza last October wasn’t the Italian artist’s 360-degree “rave robot” or the flurry of giant lasers bouncing off a 4,500-year-old Wonder of the Ancient World, but rather the sea of 15,000 people stood stock-still with their smartphones held aloft in the air. Granted, if you had forked out somewhere between €150 and €590 for a ticket to what is being called the biggest electronic show ever held at the Pyramids, you too might have been keen to gather some photographic evidence of what went down—for Instagram, if nothing else.
In 1978, the Grateful Dead became the first Western rock act to play the Pyramids, performing a run of three September shows at the foot of the Sphinx and the Great Pyramid that featured a now-mythologised rendition of “Ollin Arageed” by and with Nubian Egyptian oud player Hamza El Din, playing alongside the Nubian Youth Choir. Subsequent decades have witnessed a host of international artists following in their footsteps: Frank Sinatra in 1979, Jean-Michel Jarre in 1999, Mariah Carey in 2010 and the Red Hot Chili Peppers in 2019, among others.
So music events at the Pyramids are nothing new, that much is true. But neither the Grateful Dead’s rootsy jamming nor Carey’s private bash for 3-4,000 executives can compete with the theatrical, bone-rattling bass and light orgies of today’s large-scale electronic events, which have been proliferating at the Pyramids in recent years: Miss Monique in February, Tiësto in December 2025, Adriatique last April and Carl Cox in 2023. Zamna festival launched its inaugural two-dayer in Giza last April—a partnership with Techno & Chill and iEvents—inviting the likes of Camelphat, Andrea Oliva B2B Arodes, Mahmut Orhan B2B Shimza and others to perform in front of the majestic Pyramids to crowds of up to 7,500. EXIT Festival has now announced plans to hold a new event at “the magical Great Pyramids of Giza” this October, working with Venture Lifestyle, described on the EXIT site as “Egypt’s leading event promoter.” In an interview with IQ, EXIT Festival founder and CEO Dušan Kovačević said: “We feel that the pyramids are so symbolic that this event will have everything that EXIT stands for. There is a lot of darkness everywhere in the world, but many people see the pyramids as pillars of light, so we will be making a strong message with that.”
But not everyone is on board with partying at the Pyramids, and it’s precisely the strength of the vibrations from these events that is giving local archaeologists serious cause for concern. In October, Cairo-based civic group the Egyptian Center for Economic and Social Rights (ECESR)—on behalf of Dr. Monica Hanna, Egyptologist and assistant professor of archaeology and cultural heritage; Sally Salah El-Din, tour guide and independent researcher; and Malek Adly, cessation lawyer and advocate for the protection of cultural heritage—filed a lawsuit calling for the suspension of “all concerts and events within the archaeological sanctuary” of the Giza Pyramids area. Central to the suit is the claim that these thunderous raves are “destabilizing the ancient stone structures” and “pose a serious risk to the structural integrity of the Pyramids and their surrounding heritage environment.” It also singles out the threat from “laser lighting systems that do not comply with international standards for illumination at heritage sites,” while highlighting the damage from the “excavation or construction” projects required in staging events of this size, which usually require heavy machinery or infrastructure.
Former antiquities restorer Farouk Sharaf told The Continent in October that a laser device was reportedly mounted on one of the pyramids during the Anyma concert, constituting “a serious breach of protocol.” He also cautioned that the groundwater beneath the Sphinx—itself carved from the natural limestone of the Giza Plateau known as the Mokattam Formation—makes it particularly vulnerable to vibrations. The Mokkatam limestone is naturally porous, so if the sanitation facilities for thousands-strong crowds are mismanaged, for example, it could no doubt spell disaster for the structural integrity of this UNESCO World Heritage Site.
