Nice little spaces are easy to find in St. Louis -- vacant car-repair places; storage rooms buried in industrial districts; lofts and basements. It's much easier to find someplace that'll hold 500 than one that holds 2,000. So you print a few hundred fliers and tell everyone to keep it on the lowdown, and, when the night arrives, a sense of camaraderie swells to the surface. The scene was slow this summer, but with a few rumored parties apparently taking shape, the fall and winter show promise. Attention, authorities: The kids are growing up, they're voting, they're thinking, and their brains aren't any more damaged from youthful experimentation than yours was from all that coke, acid and pot. The dancers no longer want to roll all night on pills (though one's nice every once in a while); they want to roll all night on a packed dance floor. And they like tiny secrets, because from tiny secrets come wonderful stories.