Cormac: Finding Queerness, Sobriety & the Eternal Pulse of Rave Culture
- Filip
- Mar 23
- 3 min read
The club is a sanctuary—a place where bodies move in unison, where the past dissolves into the bass, and where identities are free to morph under flickering strobe lights. Few DJs understand this better than Cormac, the Northern Irish-born selector known for his marathon Berghain Panorama Bar closings, where disco, Italo, and house blur into euphoric oblivion.
But behind the seamless transitions and sweat-drenched dance floors lies a story of survival. A childhood shaped by conflict. A teenage rebellion laced with denial. And a journey that led from queer self-discovery through nightlife to embracing sobriety in a world fuelled by excess.
We speak to Cormac about growing up in Northern Ireland during The Troubles, how club culture became his salvation, and why, after years of immersive hedonism, he chose to step away from drugs and alcohol—without stepping away from the music.
Growing Up in the Shadow of War
Before the all-nighters and underground anthems, there was Belfast in the '80s and '90s—a city where violence was ingrained into the everyday, where identity was a battleground, and where queerness felt like an impossible secret.
Cormac speaks about his teenage years with a mix of detachment and deep reflection.
"It was a time of strict binaries—Catholic or Protestant, straight or straight. Anything outside of that wasn’t just ignored, it was actively suppressed," he says.
Like many, music became an escape hatch. Pirate radio, forbidden records, underground parties—a lifeline to something bigger than the rigid expectations of home. But even as his love for music grew, his queerness remained a secret he wasn’t ready to face.
Clubbing as a Rite of Passage
Leaving Northern Ireland meant leaving behind the constraints that had held him in place. The move to London was a portal to self-exploration, and soon, the club scene became his church, family, and playground all at once.
Through rave culture, Cormac found a space where queerness wasn’t just accepted—it was celebrated.
"Clubbing saved me," he admits. "It gave me permission to exist on my own terms. To explore. To let go."
The nights got longer. The sounds got deeper. And eventually, the Berghain Panorama Bar doors opened to him, offering a stage where he could fully channel his identity into his sets—blending disco’s sweaty euphoria with house’s hypnotic pulse.
But as the years passed, the line between freedom and escapism became harder to distinguish.
Sobriety in a Scene Built on Excess
For many, the club world and substance culture are inseparable. The high-energy, the late nights, the need to keep pushing further—it’s a cycle that doesn’t encourage moderation.
"I realized I was using it to numb things rather than enhance them," Cormac says of his past relationship with drugs and alcohol. "At some point, I had to ask myself—am I still in control, or is this controlling me?"
Choosing sobriety in a culture that glorifies excess is radical. But Cormac didn’t just step away from substances—he redefined his relationship with clubbing itself.
"I thought I’d lose the magic. That it wouldn’t feel the same. But honestly? It’s better. The music feels clearer, the connection feels real, and I’m actually present for it all."
For a DJ whose sets stretch past the 10-hour mark, that level of awareness is everything.
Beyond the Decks: A Legacy of Liberation
Cormac isn’t just playing music—he’s curating spaces of euphoria, freedom, and inclusivity. Whether it’s at Berghain’s SNAX parties, a sun-soaked festival stage, or a smoky underground club, his sets are a celebration of queer joy, resistance, and resilience.
At a time when club culture is shifting—with younger generations questioning the ties between raving and drug use, and electronic music becoming more politically charged—Cormac’s journey feels like a blueprint for a new kind of clubbing consciousness.
One where the beat doesn’t need to be numbed.Where music is the only high you need.
And where identity, healing, and freedom pulse at 130 BPM.