It was jazz and marijuana in the 1930s. In the '60s it was LSD and rock 'n' roll.

These days though, the music-and-drug combo scaring the bejesus out of the American establishment is Ecstasy and electronica.

Authorities have been waging an all-out war on the "rave" culture, say electronica fans and civil libertarians. And now, a group of Seattle-area techno enthusiasts say they're fed up and ready to fight back.

Calling themselves the Northwest Late Night Coalition, these DJs, promoters and dancers are transforming themselves into a political action committee. Their battle cry: "Dancing is not a crime."

"Every new music has been demonized," says Heide Hayward, the group's 23-year-old director. "We want to show the public that we're everyday people who happen to like listening to electronic music. We aren't druggies."

Authorities have cracked down on raves in recent years as the use of the drug Ecstasy has skyrocketed, claiming that all-night events featuring techno and trance music are luring children and adults alike into a depraved world of drug abuse.

And although both local and national law enforcement have discovered illegal drugs at some raves, the hysterical pitch of the reaction against electronic music has been, at times, reminiscent of the days when parents warned their children that rock 'n' roll was "the devil's music."

Federal Drug Enforcement Administration agent Michele Leonhart told The New York Times that electronic music parties were "like violent crack houses set to music." In New Orleans, the DEA forced rave promoters to ban glow sticks, pacifiers and "chill rooms" (places to cool down after dancing) at their events, claiming they were "drug paraphernalia." (A federal judge struck down the ban.)

The American Civil Liberties Union says the government has even been holding workshops around the country teaching law enforcement officers how to shut down raves.

And now, national legislation aims to toss rave promoters in prison if they throw an event when they "reasonably ought to know that a controlled substance will be used."

"It's a witch hunt," says Sean Hassard, a disc jockey from Snoqualmie.

"It is time the American public realized that raves are not at all the havens for rampant drug use that the government has led them to believe and are in fact part of an established form of youth culture," said Graham Boyd, director of the ACLU's Drug Policy Litigation Project.

Although most electronic music fans admit that Ecstasy and other drugs are a part of their scene, they insist it's only a part. In terms of drug abuse, they say their events are no different than rock concerts.

"The music is good enough on its own; we don't need drugs," Hayward insists (her statement sounding, perhaps, like the modern equivalent of, "No really, you don't need acid to enjoy The Grateful Dead"). "We're not bad people because we like to go out and dance late at night. It's the same as going mountain climbing and getting a natural high on life. ... I go out and dance for hours. It's a natural good experience."

At a recent party called "Flight of the Dragonfly" (held at the Fremont Unconventional Center) it was hard to imagine what all the fuss is about. Sure, thumping electronic music filled the room with a heart-massaging buzz, the decor was neon-and-tie-dyed trippy and a crowd of teens and young adults danced like tireless windup toys. But nary a soul could be found stumbling around intoxicated and there were no fights or fisticuffs (the same could not be said for the crowd at a nearby nightclub where liquor is the drug of choice).

If people were high at the party, it was nearly impossible to tell, save for the occasional group embrace (Ecstasy tends to inspire hugging). Instead, the crowd of several hundred mingled and danced, and when they tired of dancing, they took off their shoes and relaxed in a tent awash in soothing down-tempo beats.

"Everyone who's really into it loves the music first and foremost," insists 20-year-old Jeremiah Swicegood, a founding member of the Northwest Late Night Coalition.

The Seattle coalition has modeled itself after a group in San Francisco -- the San Francisco Late Night Coalition. A chapter also has formed in New York City. These organizations have joined the ACLU and the Electronic Music Defense & Education Fund in a concerted effort to change the way the public perceives the dance culture.

Last Saturday, the Northwest Late Night Coalition helped organize a rally at Westlake Center. Several hundred electronic music enthusiasts came out to dance, hand out fliers and answer questions from the public. They also gathered signatures they plan to give to the City Council asking that they be allowed to have a say in future decisions that affect their community.

The coalition also plans to host a party and fund-raiser to help fight the CLEAN-UP Methamphetamines Act of 2002 introduced by Rep. Doug Ose, R-Calif., in February. Although the majority of the bill focuses on meth labs, it also targets raves:

"Whoever knowingly promotes any rave, dance, music, or other entertainment event that takes place under circumstances where the promoter knows or reasonably ought to know that a controlled substance will be used or distributed...shall be fined...or imprisoned for not more than 9 years, or both."

"The intent of the bill is to give the authorities as much enforcement as possible over raves," says Yier Shi, press secretary to Rep. Ose.

Coalition members believe the bill is just another attack on the electronica culture, not to mention legislation that would shut down almost any event be it rock concert, football game or rave.

"You cannot control the actions of every adult that comes into your event," Hayward says.

The Northwest Late Night Coalition fund-raiser will take place at the Fremont Unconventional Center on June 28.

Says Hayward, "We just want to listen to our music in peace."