The storied history of trance has long been Eurocentric. While the 1990s trance boom was dominated by European hits, DJ superstars, and megaclubs, a parallel movement was flourishing across the United States. Hypnotised: A Journey Through American Trance Music (1992–2002), compiled by Dutch historian Arjan Rietveld, spotlights this scene, charting a decade of American Trance across its distinct regional styles.
This is the fifth entry in Rietveld’s Hypnotised series. While the Netherlands, Germany, the UK, and Belgium have all received ample historical treatment in trance’s official canon, the U.S. tends to be written off as a secondary player—fragmented, underground, and too late to cohere into a scene. In contrast to the anthemic euphoria of Euro-trance, the American sound has been more driving, progressive, and tribal. Less focused on big melodies, U.S. trance drew on local rave culture, from New York’s warehouses to Florida’s psychedelia to the desert raves of the Southwest. For those of us who came of age during this time, this music was an entire world of sound.
The first disc of Hypnotised captures that early experimental fervor of ’90s East Coast, particularly New York City. Long before his house music fame, a young Dennis Ferrer produced one of the scene’s formative tracks under the alias Aurasphere. His 1993 cut “The Greenhouse Effect” is almost beatless, showcasing the early abstract leanings of what would become Americanized trance.
The experimental mood continues with Industrial Strength Records offshoot IST releasing pioneering cuts like Disintegrator’s “Dark Black Ominous Clouds” and Koenig Cylinders’ “Carousel.” Influenced by the era’s hardcore and industrial vibes, these tracks were more about driving energy and looping mental grooves than hands-in-the-air melodies. Even New York’s legendary hardcore DJ Lenny Dee tried his hand at trancey sounds with “I Have No Love.” There was something grimy yet beautiful about this era of East Coast trance, echoing through warehouses, skating rinks and VFW halls that ran on busted sound systems, raw energy, and pure narcotics. It was an organic community before the endless rules of nightlife etiquette and normy appropriation—a time and place for misfits and those living on the margins.
Disc two tightens the groove without abandoning its eccentricities. By the mid-90s, Florida had become the center for a very different strain of trance. In Tampa and Orlando, the focus was on psychedelic imagery, breakbeats, and theatrical flair, epitomized by the iconic Rabbit in the Moon. Formed in 1992, Rabbit in the Moon pioneered a multimedia approach that drew from psychedelic trance, piano-laden house, and Florida’s famous breakbeat culture.
Musically, Rabbit in the Moon’s tracks like “O.B.E. (Out-of-Body Experience)” (1994) stand out as a hallucinatory trance-breaks hybrid worthy of a Terence McKenna trip report. It's a stare-at-the-sky number, epitomizing the compilation’s range and spirit. The track’s allure went international, catching the attention of Sasha, who hammered it in his late-night sets of the era.
Beyond R.I.T.M., Florida’s early trance scene included DJs and producers who injected tribal rhythms and progressive house into the mix. Hallucination Recordings also fostered acts like Second-Hand Satellites, who produced deep tracks like “Orbit 1.3”. The track would root itself in the progressive-tribal side of American trance, played heavily in Florida’s clubs and events like the legendary Zen Festival.
If New York was a gritty experiment and Florida was a hallucination, the West Coast was a weightless sound that leaned toward ambient and globally influenced textures. San Francisco’s rave scene produced artists like Spacetime Continuum, whose track “Freelon” is a 9-minute journey of understated trance rhythms. Meanwhile, the Astralwerks label released Aquarhythms’ “Heart Sequences,” which combined a dubby atmosphere, ethereal vocals, and a slower pacing.
By the late 1990s, American trance had come of age, spearheaded by Florida DJ/producer Chris Fortier and his Fade Records. Hypnotised showcases several key label releases. Kolo's “Track One (Original Transmission Mix)” is a fusion of world music and progressive structure. Steve Porter’s “Adaptor” is sleek with crisp synth stabs and housey undertones. Its crowning gem is “The Love (Sanctuary Dub)” by Chris Fortier and Neil Kolo.
No survey of American Trance in the ’90s is complete without the desert rave culture of the Southwest, where stars outnumber streetlights. In places like Arizona, Nevada, and Southern California, all-night outdoor parties under starry skies created a demand for trance that suited the wide-open desert. This often meant incorporating expansive breakdowns and certain hypnotic linearity that worked well in the open air. A key figure who emerged from Arizona is Markus Schulz. Long before global fame, he released his debut “You Won’t See Me Cry” on Phoenix-based Plastik Records, now an undisputed desert rave classic. It sits alongside Hyper-X's “Out There” and Vertigo Deluxe's “In Dark Skies.” These are tracks for the sunrise, not the strobe light.
The Southwest also gave us The Dream Traveler, who co-ran Arizona's Dream Music. Dream Traveler’s contribution, “Time,” is a progressive breaks masterpiece, which Paul Oakenfold chose to open his landmark Tranceport mix.
In its third disc, Hypnotised: America makes its boldest curatorial stroke, revealing just how far U.S. trance actually reached. Although the U.S. trance scene mainly operated underground, it arguably produced some of the global scene’s most recognizable anthems. Mammoth tracks like “Silence” by Delerium featuring Sarah McLachlan exploded worldwide. The Hypnotised compilation includes its haunting original 11+ minute Sanctuary Mix.
Several other North American works crossed over by the turn of the millennium. BT was one of the first U.S. auteurs to achieve international stardom. His track “Dreaming” (1999) merged breakbeat flourishes with soaring vocals from Kirsty Hawkshaw. Likewise, Conjure One delivered “Tears From The Moon," featuring Sinéad O’Connor’s vocals. Though downtempo in its album version, remixes turned it into a trance favorite.
Back in Los Angeles, Fragrant Records released two compilation highlights: Sandra Collins’s acid-tinged “Red” and Deepsky’s euphoric “Stargazer.” The former nods to trance’s techno roots, while the latter is pure peak-time bliss.
Hypnotised closes with three deep cuts from Arizona’s Dream Music. Alongside Dream Traveler’s “Time,” there are Sylvane's “Voices” and Guardians of the Earth's “Starchildren.” These tracks are journeying epics that gained cult status on the trance forums and mixtapes of the day.
Between 1992 and 2002, American trance evolved from experimental roots into a multifaceted movement. Its isolation from Europe gave it room to grow, the space to craft a distinct sound, and the freedom to form its own identity, which was often deeper and more hypnotic in spirit.
Crucially, American trance drew heavily from its local contexts—New York's grit, Florida's humidity, California's haze, and the vastness of the desert. Hypnotised: American Trance captures an entire ecosystem of sound. Across 27 tracks, you hear a genre developed on the periphery, less interested in euphoria than in duration and drift. And for those of us who lived it, it’s a welcome return to a time when trance wasn’t a corporate-sponsored brand.
