The Machine Doesn’t Sleep: Fifty Hours Inside Wire Festival 2025
A techno marathon blurring the lines between rave, ritual and survival at Queens’ Knockdown Center
The 2025 edition of Wire Festival felt like a living, breathing organism. Held at the sprawling Knockdown Center in Queens, including diversions into the adjacent Basement club, it didn’t stop to rest, only shifting gears. Across eight rooms, every corner seemed choreographed not only by the DJs behind the decks, but by curators who understood that flow is everything.
My journey started at 10:00 Saturday morning in the Ruins, an open-air stone and metal courtyard that feels less like a stage and more like a techno colosseum. The daylight programming curated by WHOLE Festival set the tone: Dee Diggs b2b Kilopatrah Jones gave us disco, glitter and pure c**t—spun with joy, stomped with purpose.
Sequins. Mesh. Bare chests. Thongs pulled high and oiled muscle catching the light. Queer post-apocalyptic rave wear that felt like Dune, if everyone on Arrakis had a Balenciaga sponsorship and a trust fund.
That set mixed in beautifully into Jacob Meehan b2b Shaun J. Wright, who worked the tension up before handing the room to the legend himself: Kevin Aviance—a true icon. A spiritual reset. That three-act sequence was hands down a love letter to the divas—and we were living for it.
Eventually, I had to step out. Not from boredom or burnout—just heat. I overheat easily and dance like I’m trying to break something loose. I’m also old enough to know when to retreat. Pacing isn’t weakness—it’s part of the plan. Shower. Real food. Silence. Come back sharper.
I had plans to return around 9:00 pm for Roi Perez, Morenxxx, and the Makadsi b2b Markus set—but factoring in a detour to Wrecked at Basement, I knew something had to give. With limited ticket access and no re-entry for single-day passes I had to be strategic about it.
Before returning to Knockdown Center, I dipped into Basement for a few hours. Wrecked was in full bloom inside Studio, where Sterling Juan Diaz and OK Williams absolutely devoured their slot. SJD’s edit of Gaga’s “Garden of Eden” turned the room on its axis—a proper rave weapon. Iconic. High drama, no apology. OK Williams kept it tight, swinging between pressure and play. The boys at Studio were very much at play.
Back upstairs, I merged into the Spielraum space just in time for BASHKKA. The room was full—humidity thick, bodies deeply packed. Diva techno cut through the sweat and static like a reset button. The shift in energy was immediate, fluid, intentional.
While the music and curation were locked in, some basics lagged behind. The no re-entry policy for single-day passes made pacing tricky, especially over a 50-hour stretch. Water access was limited, food options sparse overnight. Thankfully, snacks were allowed, and the BBQ truck came through. The fried chicken teriyaki sandwich from Empire Barbecue? Worth every dollar.
I returned to the Ruins just in time for Octo Octa and Eris Drew, who brought warmth and momentum in equal measure. Their vinyl-forward set glowed with familiarity—uplifting, house-rooted, fun breaks, and perfectly placed to ease us into the final stretch. The breeze helped, too. Freddy K followed, all stamina and sharp instincts, keeping energy high without ever rushing the room. A true technician. He was, also, the only artist to play the festival twice over the weekend.
Later in the day, The Carry Nation b2b Mike Servito delivered exactly what you’d want from them: NYC house with teeth. It felt like home—tough but joyful, sharp but generous. Massimiliano Pagliara followed with charm and grace, his selections warm and woozy, like an afterglow stretched into motion.
Funk Assault was a surprise standout, and their work new to me. Their aesthetic read masc and minimal, but their selections were full of curveballs. Camp, jacking house, and unexpected turns that caught the crowd off guard in the best way and delivered a hypnotic close to my time inside the machine.
In total, I clocked 23 hours at Wire. Not in a row—my strategy was recharge and return, even if it meant giving up a few sets. Everyone has their own way of navigating something this massive. My friends Diego and Homotopies? Somewhere between 38 and 44 hours. nonstop.
There’s no single way to do Wire. Some go full throttle, others cycle through in waves. Dancers, DJs, architecture, and the working staff all move together like parts of the same system. You fall into rhythm, break it, and fall back in. And if you’re lucky, somewhere between diva techno and sunrise, you feel the whole thing breathe.
What are your thoughts?