Not to be outdone, The Cross is apparently holding its last party at its current digs north of King’s Cross. Of course, all the good summer parties in London take place while I’m away…
For the last festival of the summer, South West Four has a jaw-dropping lineup at Clapham Common: Paul van Dyk, Roger Sanchez, Pete Tong, John Digweed, Eric Prydz, Josh Wink, and that’s just half of the big names spinning at this epic Bank Holiday bash.
Too bad I can’t make it this weekend. But I’ll be queuing all right. It’s just that in Italy we queue at peak touristy season for different masterpieces.
Not much play these past two weeks, as we’ve been busy working on our London postcode series and an unrelated project. With the little free time I’ve had, I squeezed in at the packed Phonica party at T Bar on Saturday.
Earlier on the day, I went to Phonica’s shop in Soho to pick up a brilliant CD mix by Ewan Pearson for über club Fabric, and a Monza compilation CD by Crosstown Rebels head honcho Damian Lazarus. Lots of groovy beats to listen while we put the finishing touches on our latest collection…
It was a week that saw both ends of the nightlife spectrum from the ritzy, glitzy scene to the get down and dirty warehouse party.
On Wednesday, the trainers and t-shirts took a backseat as we dressed up for a soiree at a posh West End club. In typical London fashion, the venue was heaving with debutantes and men in suits by 11pm, when the first bottles of champagne were whisked ceremoniously to the tables at the back. Alas, during the time we were there, everyone was shying away from the £30,000 Cristal Mathusalem.
Friday was Ditched Disco night at T Bar. A no-brainer pick: no fuss at the door, no cover, and cutting edge music that keeps people off the couch. I’m not sure how to categorise it but it was a mix of funky rhythms and minimal beats. Too bad I left the camera at home.
On Saturday I ventured south of the Thames for some teutonic action at the Lost present M-NUS (pronounced minus) underground party at SeOne.
Housed inside the arches under the London Bridge Station, both the Blue Room and Red Room, which have a capacity of about 1,000 each, were thronged with fans of techno, young and old clad mostly T-shirts, dancing to the beats of Canadian expat and now Berliner Richie Hawtin and his mates at M-NUS.
Finally on Sunday, a friend invited me to catch the BBC Proms at the opulent Royal Albert Hall. It was a welcome change in pace, but I couldn’t stop thinking how music at 130 bpm would sound in the splendid acoustics of the room.
On Friday, we kicked off the pre-party routine at SOS, neighbour to one of London’s clubbing mecca, Fabric. Not sure who was at the decks that night but people were queuing as early as 9pm. By the time we finished a few rounds, the queue to Fabric had extended to what I surmise (from personal experience) was a 3-hour wait for the late stragglers.
Later that night, we ventured up north again to the soon-to be-gentrified area of King’s Cross. At The Big Chill, I think we stumbled onto a party for the deaf and/or mute, with about half of the punters communicating in sign language. We then hit Egg, where chewing gum is not allowed, for a little session of electro and dirty house, and a ripping live performance by Viva City.
On Sunday, I was determined to find some Balearic afternoon action in London. I tried the Lockside Lounge and the Lock Tavern in Camden, hoping the Spaniards, Italians and French would swarm the dance floor after zigzagging through the bustling market. Instead, it was a very chill vibe, so I scooted to the East End to my favourite haunts Cafe 1001 and T Bar. Again no luck. I suppose all the party people were at Exit or Ibiza.
The great expectations this weekend turned out to be great disappointments. The plan on Saturday was to catch a glimpse of the new all-nighter parties at Cafe 1001 in Brick Lane and then to check out Wax, a new, ephemeral underground party near Shoreditch hyped by our beloved folks at Timeout.
But a SNAFU was just waiting to happen. Cafe 1001 didn’t host this time the 12-hour marathon, shutting its doors instead a little after midnight.
As for Wax, well I managed to find Plough Yard, a dodgy-looking alley near Liverpool station. But there was absolutely nothing there unless it was so underground and the music was playing so discreetly that I completely overlooked it. I doubt it - I saw others who couldn’t find it and besides the tickets are no longer on sale on the web.
It’s too bad, Wax sounded like a blast - a musical and visual feast at a building slated to be destroyed later this year. This was a green light for artists to spray paint recklessly within the confines of the Shoreditch Warehouse. Apparently, this is what it looked like inside. But don’t ask me about it, I wasn’t there last week.
After a three-month hiatus, Flatmate and I were re-united for some promising weekend action in London.
We were off to a sluggish start on Friday night. With no particular plan in mind, we spent pretty much two hours wandering in East London looking for a different place to party. Our last hope to salvage the night was a minimal house party advertised all over Old Street and Shoreditch.
When we got to Gramaphone, we were pleased to see no queues and punters inside seeming to have a good time. To my surprise though, they were dancing to reggae NOT minimal. Sure, reggae can be fun – I just wasn’t prepared and in the mood for it.
Saturday night, we headed to Camden as Flatmate wanted to catch DJ SpinnaSpinner at Jazz Café for some soul, R&B and old school house. After a couple of hours of funky beats, we then ventured into the derelict area near King’s Cross to The Key for some techno.
The main room at The Key was teeming amid the austere decor and flashing tiles on the dancefloor. It could have been a blast, but I simply stood back and watched the kids enjoying themselves. Perhaps I’m slowing down? Or maybe I was just saving my energy for the Sunday afternoon sessions at Cafe 1001 on Brick Lane.
And so I turned up at Cafe 1001 at 5pm expecting the dance floor at the back to be packed as usual only to see a room void of revellers. I suppose their new Saturday all-nighters which run until noon are taking a toll to the party people. Or perhaps it was the nice weather (finally!) that made people stay out longer. Oh well, at least I saved money to make more T-shirts.
Labelled as Montreal’s urban operator, MadeinMtl culls the best places for fashion, booze and poutine, one of Quebec’s “delicacy”.
The site also features vignettes, narrated mostly in French, on themes germane to the city’s character like the Underground City, the Montreal stairways, multiculturalism and Cinema L’Amour. I strongly recommend a visit (the MadeinMtl site of course).
A couple of clips today. The first is another rendition of the Tecktonik rage in France, this time gal showing her male counterpart, how electronic music is danced.
As for the second one, it’s just not what you’d expect to see when people breakdance.
