The year 2000 was a fascinating time—a transitional period where analog culture and digital technology collided. Few films capture the vibe of that era quite like Groove, an indie gem that radiates a chilled-out charm. Watching it today, I’m struck by how much I miss certain aspects of that bygone world. From its leisurely pace to the tactile nature of its characters’ lives and tools, Groove is a love letter to a simpler, more grounded time.

Groove stands out for its subtlety in an age where high-stakes plots dominate cinema. It isn’t trying to save the world, upend history, or set the universe ablaze with drama. Instead, it simply follows a group of strangers coming together for one unforgettable night at an underground rave. The film takes its time introducing its characters, letting us marinate in their lives. The pacing feels like a slow inhale, pulling you into a community of dreamers, DJs, and wanderers. It’s an unhurried story about connection, discovery, and escape.

As I watched Groove, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia—not just for the era it portrays but for the technology and culture that shaped it. The late 90s and early 00s were an important crossroads where culture met technology, and this film beautifully captures that blend.

The Internet Before It Got Complicated

One scene in Groove stuck with me: a character sends out an email to invite her friends to the rave. Remember email? Long before smartphones, social media, and the endless pings of notifications, email was our digital lifeline. That moment in the film transported me back to a time when communication online felt personal. It reminded me of spending hours on web forums, message boards, and IRC chats, connecting with like-minded strangers over niche interests.

Back then, these spaces felt small and intimate, filled with people who genuinely wanted to share ideas. We used tools like AIM, ICQ, MSN Messenger—and yes, email—to keep in touch. Who could forget the thrill of logging on and hearing the cheerful “You’ve got mail!” greeting? Or the mystery of a late-night A/S/L chat? (Or so I’ve heard, not that I participated in that sort of thing *wink*)

Today, the internet feels more like a crowded highway than a quiet coffee shop, but Groove brought me back to a time when it was still a series of cozy neighborhoods.

The Tactile World of 2000

Another reason Groove resonates is its depiction of a tactile world. The early 2000s were a transitional time, where analog tools were still common but digital technology was steadily gaining ground. In the film, you see characters interacting with turntables, vinyl records, CD players, and analog mixers. As someone who’s always been fascinated by the haptic nature of older tech, I felt an instant connection.

Back then, technology required interaction. Buttons, knobs, switches—they all gave you feedback, a physical sense of control. Whether it was pressing play on a boombox, adjusting the volume on a receiver, or dialing in a phone number, the experience was visceral.

Contrast that with today, where nearly every device is touch-based. Flat, glass screens dominate, and while they’re undeniably sleek, they lack the satisfying click of a mechanical button or the precision of a physical dial. Watching Groove reminded me how much I miss that tactile connection to the tools we use.

Even though I was never a DJ or part of the rave scene, seeing the characters in Groove spinning records and tweaking sliders filled me with nostalgia. It made me long for a time when creating art or music felt like a hands-on craft rather than an exercise in software navigation.

Culture and Technology at a Crossroads

The late 90s and early 00s were an incredibly important time for culture and technology. As Groove illustrates, technology has always shaped culture, especially subcultures. When tools become affordable and accessible, they open the doors for new waves of creativity.

Take the rise of hip-hop in the 1980s, for example. It emerged from communities that took turntables, drum machines, and samplers—tools originally designed for other purposes—and used them to create something entirely new. Similarly, in the era Groove portrays, digital production tools and internet connectivity were just beginning to democratize music and art.

Fast-forward to today, and we see a similar dynamic playing out. Platforms like TikTok, Twitch, and YouTube have given rise to countless creators. These tools have allowed artists, educators, and entertainers to build communities and share their work with the world. Whether it’s a musician uploading their first single, a gamer streaming to thousands, or a historian teaching complex topics through short videos, technology continues to lower the barriers to entry.

Groove serves as a reminder that these cultural shifts didn’t start with smartphones—they began in eras like the one it captures, where passion and innovation met opportunity.

The Tactile Renaissance

Watching Groove also made me think about the resurgence of interest in “lo-fi” technology. While we live in a digital age, many of us crave the tactile experiences of the past. That’s why we see people returning to vinyl records, mechanical keyboards, and even typewriters. These tools offer a sense of physicality and presence that’s missing from modern devices.

For me, using a mechanical keyboard feels like a small rebellion against the touchscreen takeover. Typing becomes an experience, not just a function. Similarly, listening to a record forces you to slow down, to engage with the act of putting on music rather than just hitting “play” on a streaming app.

If I ever buy a new car, I’m determined to find one with actual knobs and buttons. Touchscreens in vehicles might be modern, but they lack the intuitive simplicity of physical controls. Why trade precision for convenience?

This longing for a more tactile world doesn’t mean rejecting the digital age. Instead, it’s about finding balance—using analog tools to inspire creativity in a digital context.

A Night to Remember

Ultimately, Groove is more than just a film about a rave; it’s a time capsule from an era when technology and culture were in perfect harmony. Its chilled-out story, tangible details, and nostalgic nods to old-school tech remind us of a world that felt slower, more personal, and more connected.

Even though I never lived the rave scene myself, watching Groove made me feel like I was part of it. It transported me to a time when music brought people together, when technology felt like a tool rather than a distraction, and when life had a certain hands-on simplicity.

If you share my nostalgia for this bygone era—or just want to experience a great indie film—I highly recommend checking out Groove. And if you want to hear more of my thoughts, be sure to check out our latest podcast episode, where we dive deep into the film. It’s available now, wherever you get your podcasts.

Here’s to a more tactile world—and to keeping its spirit alive in our modern, digital age.