Frank Owen’s Clubland is a wild, high-octane chronicle of New York’s club scene in the 1990s—a world of excess, music, and mayhem where nightlife wasn’t just entertainment, but a full-blown subculture with its own language, politics, and dark undercurrents. With journalistic precision and a novelist’s flair, Owen takes readers deep into the pulsing heart of an era defined by ecstasy (in every sense), chaos, and cultural transformation.
More than just a history of clubs and DJs, Clubland is about the people behind the scenes—club promoters, ravers, dealers, dreamers—and how the convergence of drugs, capitalism, and underground music created a cultural phenomenon that burned brilliantly before imploding. It’s an unflinching portrait of an era that celebrated liberation and lost itself in its own intensity.
Reading Clubland, I couldn’t help but reflect on the themes I explore in Agents of the Universe. While Clubland captures a very real cultural movement rooted in late 20th-century hedonism and expression, Agents pushes these ideas into the realm of speculative evolution. Both books ask: What happens when subcultures, substances, and technology intersect to alter human consciousness and community?
In Agents of the Universe, I take readers beyond the dance floor, into a future where psychedelics, AI, and ecological awareness are the tools of a global consciousness shift. Like the club kids and visionaries of Clubland, my characters are seekers—only their dance floor is the universe, their beats synced with the rhythms of planetary change.
If Clubland gives you a rush of nostalgia or curiosity about the social revolutions born under strobe lights and bass drops, Agents of the Universe will feel like its spiritual successor—a next chapter in the ongoing story of how music, mind-expansion, and rebellion reshape society. Where Owen documents the rise and fall of a movement, I offer a vision of what might rise next.