When deep into the music at a trance party, most people dance a sort of mechanized primal stomp, working their arms like pistons and clomping their feet. Although these maneuvers may look awkward, they are a natural reaction to the music's rigidly 4/4 industrial-sounding beats, which, though sublime to the dancers, may sound to the untrained ear like anything from rotating chopper blades to the repetitive clatter of a machine shop. Atop these beats are layered morphing sonic curlicues of all sorts, and if the hard beats of trance music provide dancers with an anchor, the top end of the music can, under the right conditions, facilitate an intense psychedelic experience.

Which is to say, trance parties are cathartic, massively cathartic. As one longtime fan put it, "A good trance party breaks you down and then smooths you out."

To lead people through this process, a trance party must respect the values of the scene. This means organizers must provide proper music and a good sound system, of course, but also tasteful decorations or scenery and, significantly, a strong sense of trust -- after all, in the pursuit of a meaningful psychedelic experience, a person must drop the emotional barriers that protect him or her from the strains and hazards of everyday life.