I’ve never been one for clubbing. Not ever.
But so many people are. I just don’t get it.
My optimum clubbing opportunity came at the height of the rave phenomenon in the early nineties. I lived and studied in
I believe it was called the Second Summer of Love. I hated it.
I would be dragged by friends to clubs, kicking and screaming. I would suffer humiliation roulette as I wondered which one of our party would be singled out as “not getting in” which was a kind of warped pastime of the bouncers. Despite the humiliation, I would pray it would be me, so that I could catch the last bus home and catch “ The Word” on telly.
Once past the threshold, I would fork out too much money to enter a condensation filled dungeon of unhygienic hideousness pumping out pounding, migraine inducing noise.
I would look around at people drenched in sweat, chewing the inside of their cheeks and blinking furiously as they danced.
I found it weird that you would never meet anyone new, you would never make friends with anyone, you would never have a good laugh. No-one was interested in social endeavour, people were only interested in getting off their tits and dancing til they suffered clinical exhaustion. Rave on. (Yawn.)
People would be three deep at the bar; not for real drinks; but for water. Water would be £5 a bottle, in a town that pissed fresh water all over you every day. You would be served the beverage of your choice after a 30 minute wait whilst the cooler than thou bar staff decided whether or not you were trendy enough for your image to be registered by their retinas.
The worst of it…the WORST of it would be that for the whole night I would look around me and think, “Am I some kind of freak? Everyone is having a fucking great time. Why do I hate this so much? What is wrong with me? When can I go home?”
In normal circumstances I would get a reprieve from the torture at 2am, happy to oblige when the bouncers flicked the strip lights on and told everyone unceremoniously to “Fuck off” (is there any other profession where you get to speak to the people who pay your wages like that?).
But this being 1990 and the year of extended licenses, I would be forced by my mates to stay til the shops opened the next morning for Sunday shopping.
And one by one, all of your mates would turn, Bodysnatcher like, from decent folks that liked to go down the pub for a blether* and maybe go see good bands, to “clubbers” brandishing glo-sticks, chomping pills and wearing lurex shorts in winter with no tights.
You would look tearfully on as the girl who moshed with you last year to Jane’s Addiction gig at the Barrowlands, blows a whistle whilst pointing rhythmically at a dork playing shit records.
“Woo-oop! Woo-ooop! Aceeeed!”
Sigh......
Clubbing might be great now, it might have been great in the seventies with disco and all that. I don’t know. But clubbing in the nineties was pants. Why won’t anyone else admit it? We were had.
*A blether, for those of you not from Scotland, is a chat. It does have undertones of gossip and gobshiteyness too which makes it an even better word. It's one of my favourite words and if you look in my profile, I think I describe myself as one. So, it can also mean a person who blethers.
16 comments:
The herd instinct is the only explanation for such behaviour. If it really felt good, people would be putting on headphones and jumping on their beds into the small hours.
Hate to say it, but I felt the same way until I started taking MDMA and became one of the sweat-drenched, cheek-chewing idiots. It is brilliant to experience even if it looks ridiculous from the outside. And I have met new people (sometimes) - think you just have to be in the right frame of mind, and often chemicals can be a good shortcut for getting there.
I hate - and always have - the types of clubs you mention, but love a good old fashioned indie disco.
I also, however, love the word "blether". My grandpa's name for me as a little girl was "the bletherskite". I'm fond of bosie too.
In my youth I only ever went to basements playing motown. These days I have to pick very carefully where I go on what night to avoid the dreadful chart stuff. I like old skool hip-hop which is sadly becoming less and less popular.
I thought I was the only one who felt like that!
Aha! I just knew that someone else out there thought that the whole club thing sucked!
Nope. clubbing was never fun. Now a shot and a beer, at a local was more my style back in the day.
Not to say I didn't do my share of clubbing, but it was never any fun unless I made a hook up. (Which happened about one in twenty times)
Me too! Always hated the places. And I have tinnitus despite avoiding them!
The aura of sweat, smoke, vomit, spilled drink and nasty perfume really doesn't help much either. Well, at least there's much less smoke these days.
Gorilla:Herd instinct and Class As- a potent combo..
Overpowered: I was always suspicious of little pills sold by morons, personally. Best to stay organic. All the same the real McCoy must have been really something to make Acid House sound nice.
Cat: My aim is to use the word "Bletherskite" within the next week. Superb.
Joseph: Y'see now I've got a picture of you spinning on your head to Run DMC.
I have to say that if there was a club playing Motown all night, I reckon it would be fantastic. Why do these place not exist????
Hanlie: Hello and welcome. Looks like we're all coming out of the woodwork. Do you think we could sue?
Mama: The Zen girl speaks the truth.
Scot: Yeah that's another thing. You'd go home alone. Pointless!
Donald: Do you know I've not been a club since the smoking ban. That must be weird...
Come to think of it, I've not been in a club since ban on CFS in deodorants....
PS: Extra points for anyone who can correctly point out all the grammatical errors in my previous comment...
I used to think I hated clubbing because of the haze of smoke, followed by the croaky voice and itchy eyes next morning. But nah, it's just as much the heat and the noise. That music is far too loud.
Oh God, I've turned into my dad.
I remember on one of our 'tours' to London we got free passes to a trance night in the Brixton Fridge, which turned out to be exactly as you describe. But we got in free, so felt obliged to have a good time. I have a shuddering memory of 2/3rds of the Lorelei determinedly dancing to at least one 'choon' as we felt we should, all the while wishing we could just sit in the pub down the road with a pint or three. Maybe that was just me, of course. There is not a pill in the world that makes me 'feel like dancin'...
Misssy: I was always suspicious of little pills sold by morons, personally.
Me too, which is why I've never taken it in pill form or bought it off anyone I didn't know. :)
Re: the smoking ban. Clubs, like pubs, smell a lot worse now without the smoke to disguise the aforementioned sweat, vomit, beer, etc.
P.S. I've not been in a club since before deodorants - well not knowingly anyway.
Clubs smell even worse now there's no smoke to hide the stench of sweat/vomit/piss/beer. A friend of mine works in one and apparently they've spent a fortune trying to rid of the stink.
Sounds delightful.
Mr Farty- hating clubs shouldn't make you feel old...just more sober. And ask yourself this, do you dance like your Dad? If the answer is no- then you're still in the clear.
Kayessjaykay: I do remember one particular member of the band (the manchild one...no,no; the other one)really getting into all that rave stuff at one point. Must've been that night in the Fridge that did it.
Overpowered: I'm the sort of person who thinks nothing of cartwheeling in a pub with only two light ales down her. On MDMA I shudder to think what I'd do.
Donny: But didn't I see you down the British Legion recently...doesn't that count?
Doctor Pauls: Hello and Welcome. The piss part of that worries me more than anything. But then I know a pub in my town where they used to have massive barrels of monkey nuts until they found a jobby in one of them. Shudder.
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