Category Archives: acid house

New Year? Out with the new and in with the old….

While New Year’s Eve continues (like Valentine’s with it) to be as much of a shameless money-spinner as a reason to live it up into the next 365 days and propose a few shaky resolutions while wobbly on your feet, New Year’s Day seems to be the where the smart money lies in terms of a decent night out. And there’s no better place to add to the previous night’s hangover than in a distinctly credit-crunch free environment of a pub. And that pub is the Old Queen’s Head in Essex Road.

Home to Bugged Out‘s party for a few years now, it’s an odd contradiction in terms. Shoreditch scenesters and glammed-up Londoners shuffle outside the front door waiting for the one-in-one-out to allow them entry (this is to a free night, remember, and upstairs, when entry is finally gained, it’s not Berlin-tinged techno you’ll be hearing but everything from 10cc and Phil Collins to Donna Summer and Take That. In the hands of Tayo and Johnno Burgess (he of the most entertaining Resident Advisor podcast of the year in 2008), you won’t find a more entertaining way to bring in the New Year, and anyone that turns up their nose at the thought of compromising their artistic integrity need not bother making the journey. After all, isn’t it just about having fun? It certainly is here. Roll on 01/01/2010!


The End is nigh…

The End

As if the body blow of losing Turnmills, The Key, The Cross and Canvas wasn’t enough in 2008, the news that the End would close for good on 24th Jan 2009 was probably the worst of all for the capital’s clubbers. In its 13 years it’s played host to some of the best-loved DJs, with residents from founders Layo and Bushwacka! and Mr C to Danny Howells, Laurent Garnier, Steve Lawler, DJ Marky, Andy C and stalwarts like Chew The Fat, DTPM, Milk’n’2 Sugars, Simple, Olmeto, Cocoon, Circo Loco, not to mention a list of guests that reads like a who’s who of dance music, it’s a tragedy that it’ll finally, along with its little sister, the AKA, close its doors. The centre of town is now more barren than it’s ever been.

With times tight, it’s not impossible to understand that the last in a long line of offers for the premises would be too good to turn down. The team has been there from the start, and 13 years is a long time in clubland. When time for change came, leaving it to anyone else to run wouldn’t see right, when it’s something so close to all of them, and especially when the future years, and the desire to continue ad infinitum, must be weighed up. But for those that have gone time and time again it’ll be a huge loss to the capital, as it’s surely the light that’s shone brightest in the past two decades in a capital with nightlife that is the envy of the world.

But, as they say, all good things must come to an end. And, over the past thirteen years, we’ve been spoilt. Personal memories are so many, some hazier than others. From early visits for Underwater, Missdemeanours, Be As One and Riot! to midweek carnage of record launches (Digweed and Howells’ Choice Ones were the stuff of legend) and Sunday nights misspent at Clandestino, and Mondays at Trash, maybe the least-known but most lauded residencies the club has seen. The one thing that run through it all was how easy it was to have a good time in those two hallowed rooms. The club was (and still is) run so well, with nothing more important than the clubbers and the music, that, for the uptight reputation that the capital has, it could’ve easily been Manchester or Leeds. It was a pocket of friendliness and cool that seemed to sit outside the confines of the city.

I’m not 100% sure when I first set foot in the club, it would’ve been around the end of the 90s, but I remember queueing for ages, which, back then, proved it must’ve been an experience worth repeating. And despite the changing times and clubbing climate, very little changed downstairs. It didn’t need to. The main room, with its raised central booth perfect for both worship of and performance from the DJ, and the lounge, as much for chatting, catching up, and boozing as dancing, were an example to many others on how simplicity really was the best watchword. I’ve lost count of the many times I’ve stood up the end of the bar buying shots or more beers, whether it was the fun and games of Riot! on Sundays gone by, where so many of my current friends were met, or Cocoon, taking a break from the pounding main room. It won’t seem right not having that familiar spot to take a breather, or add to the hangover of the morning after. I’ve been lucky enough to get behind the decks. It may have been only once, in the Lounge at Riot! (sadly the 2nd last in 2006) but I’m able to say I played my favourite club, and I’m not sure how many could say that.

So, what of the future? Despite all the wailing and gnashing of teeth, there are still 4 months left to give the club the send-off it deserves. Plans and line-ups for the final weeks are as yet still unreleased, but it almost doesn’t matter who plays, it’ll be the last chance to say goodbye to the place with the people that matter. Much like those gone before it, it’ll be hard to get used to walking from Holborn to Tottenham Court Road and glancing down West Central Street and finding that famous view no longer there. But like other legends before it, we can at least say, without a hint of smugness or ego, that we were lucky enough to spend many a lost weekend in its confines, and look back over those memories at the fun we had. The clubbing map is always in a state of flux, and while, 2 years ago, if someone had told me five of the capital’s finest nightspots would be lost to developers, i’d have laughed and also prayed. But we can only look back and think how lucky we were that the people behind the End gave us all those years, not be angry that it’s gone. Its significance can only be understood even more once it’s finally closed its doors. And I’ll be there when it happens, you can count on that. Monday the 25th January will be a black day in more than one way, but I’ll be taking holiday. I think I’ll need it….

is nothing sacred?

Ok, so I’m all for a summer house record, and the Shapeshifters aren’t exactly bad at this, but sometimes people can take it too far.

Now, with the amount of cashing in (We Love…. anyone?) on the 20th anniversary of Acid House, something that only a real few can remember (and even some of the ones that were there don’t) and many more love and appreciate, you’d hope that some thanklessly lazy remixes wouldn’t surface, but fast on the heels of the not-too-bad-but-why-did-you-really-need-to-do-it of Mark Knight’s Man With The Red Face mix, but this month it gets much lower….

Why on earth would you think that Orbital’s Classic Chime would need a going over, and certainly not in an ‘electronic house’ style.

But that’s what the Shapeshifters have done. It really isn’t needed AT ALL. And to make a video of kerraazy ‘ravers’ with all the red top headlines and confused grannies, it’s reducing one of the finest musical revolutions into a caricatured cash-in.

Shame on you. Some things are better left alone.