Vauxhall, Vietnam and other Parties

Last weekend saw hundreds of police on the dancefloor from Vauxhall to Vietnam…

1000+ arrests at Vietnam nightclub

More than 500 police raided Ha Noi’s New Century nightclub in the wee hours of Saturday morning, seizing a large amount of illegal narcotics, from amphetamines to heroin, and detaining around 1,160 people for drug testing. Police also caught couples having sex on the premises and found used condoms. Of the first 600 persons tested for drugs, 15 per cent were positive. By Saturday afternoon, more than 1,100 had been released while others remained in custody for further investigation, including New Century’s manager, Nguyen Dai Duong, and four women accused of drug-related offences. New Century, one of the most well-known nightclubs and discos in the northern region, has been in business for eight years. (Vietnam News , 2nd May 2007)

South London Gay club closed

"The Fire gay nightclub has been temporarily closed following a raid by Lambeth police in the early hours of Saturday morning. Witnesses claim hundreds of police were involved in the raid. Nine people were arrested in the raid that followed a three month long intelligence led operation into Class A drugs- codenamed Pivot. Officers armed with a search warrant raided the club in Vauxhall at 2:15 am on Saturday. Suspects are being held in a central London police station. The club which hosts A:M (taking place during the raid), Orange, Juicy and Rudeboyz has been temporarily shut down under the Misuse of Drugs Act. Supersluth wrote on DiscoDamaged (a clubbing blog), "The lights came on at 2am. We were then lined in in groups of 3 in the car park - had our pictures taken in the glory of spot lights jacked up on police vans, sniffer dogs have a good nose around our legs and escorted out onto the road where there were literally hundreds of police lining the closed off roads and railway bridge." (Pink News, 28th April 2007, Film footage here).

Bedfordshire party shut down

As many as 200 ravers found their illegal party short-lived in Caddington when police told them to go home. The revellers had set up a sound system at the Chaul End reservoir, Caddington, on Friday night but officers were soon on the site to kick them off after a neighbour's complaint. Police issued a section 63 notice under the Criminal Justice and Public Order act threatening to remove the expensive music equipment before the crowd dispersed (Luton Today, 2nd May 2007)

Squat party at Streatham Megabowl

Squatters used a derelict bowling alley to host an illegal rave last Saturday night. They entered the boarded up Megabowl building in Streatham Hill, south London, through a side door and revellers were charged £5 each to go in. Police were called out in the early hours of Sunday morning after complaints from residents. A spokesman said the squatters would be taken to court and should be evicted from the premises by the end of the week. The two-storey building, which closed in August, is earmarked for part of a new shopping mall and housing development stretching (This is Hertfordshire, 28 April 2007).

OK so it gets a bit tedious simply cataloguing police raids on clubs and parties across the world, but we’ll stick with it because it is interesting to identify patterns and differences, and the various reasons for turning off the music and turning on the sirens. Analysis to follow (one day...)

Matthew Stone

Now on at UNION (London SE1) is 'the first solo exhibition of London based artist Matthew Stone. Emerging from a strongly collaborative South London squat-scene of young artists, actors, writers, musicians, moviemakers and designers, Stone produces chiaroscuro laden photography, dramatically portraying friends and night-time players stripped of context-locating clothing, draped in cheap fabric swatches, and locked in self-absorbed states of romanticised visionary ecstasy'.

At his Optimism as Cultural Rebellion blog, Matthew Stone also documents the artier end of the current London squat party scene (picture is from this blog, of a Squallyoaks party).

As discussed in my previous Nu Rave post, this vaguely art squat linked scene is a real phenomenon. Interestingly it seems to have developed largely outside of the longer running London anarcho-squat/free party scene, which has been going in one form or another since the 1970s -with some continuity in people between 80s anarcho punk and 90s acid techno parties, as well as links through Advisory Service for Squatters with the previous era of 1970s squatters.

Reclaim the Future in London

A Reclaim the Future event went ahead in a squatted building in North London's Holloway Road last weekend, with various radical workshops from No Borders and others in the daytime and a party with sound systems later on.

However, several people were arrested as riot police sealed off the road and prevented people (including some of the bands due to play) from getting into the venue -even though hundreds were already partying inside.

Further reports at Wombles and Indymedia

Dancing questionnaire 1 - Neil Transpontine

I want this site to reflect people's personal experiences of dancing and musicking, so I've designed a short questionnaire which I've sent out to various people and which I will post as replies come back in. If you're really keen you can fill one in yourself and send it to me at transpontine@btinternet.com. You can also add another question of your own devising if there's something else you really want to say but can't squeeze into one of these questions! To pilot this I have filled it in for myself, Neil Transpontine.

Can you remember your first experience of dancing?

I remember primary school discos in Luton. It was the 1970s and I won the best dressed boy competition (aged 11) – purple shirt with a big round collar, checked flared trousers, stack heels and a two tone suede bomber jacket (Robert Elms describes these ‘Budgie’ jackets in his book 'The Way we Wore'; Felt wrote a song about them). I remember trying to follow the girls' dancing moves, attempts at ‘The Hustle’ and kind of disco line dances. A few of us decided it was time extend our social lives beyond the confines of our own school, so we went to check out a disco at another local school. Dressed up and looking forward to a dance we were surprized to be set upon almost immediately and chased through the nearby Runfold Estate. Clothes, clubbing and running in the streets at the age of 11 - the pattern was set for the next 30 years.

What’s the most interesting/significant thing that has happened to you while out dancing?

My mum and dad met dancing at the California Ballroom in Dunstable – I guess that was pretty significant for me even if didn’t happen to me. I met my partner at the other great meeting place – work – but it was defininitely dancing and clubbing that brought us together from a drunken snog dancing to Chic in Upper Street after a Christmas party to several years clubbing all over London in the 1990s.

What’s the best place you’ve ever danced in?

Aesthetically, my favourite venue would be the Rivoli Ballroom in Brockley (South London - pictured left), a wonderful old dance hall with velvet walls, chandeliers etc. In terms of the thrill of being there, I would say the M41 during the Reclaim the Streets party which closed down the motorway for a day in July 1996 - London Acid City – Our Time was Then.

You. Dancing. The best of times….

Hard to pin down one, but I suppose going to Club UK (in Wandsworth) with my new girlfriend (now wife) for the first time in 1994 would be up there. I can remember lots of details of the night – listening to a pirate station on the way out, J’s clothes, talking in the queue to some kids who’d done a bunk from the local children’s home to come out. Most of all I remember walking in and they were playing that Pigbag remix (Perfecto Allstarz – Reach Up), the whole place seemed to be exploding, everyone was dancing including the bar staff. Chemicals were obviously adding to the effect for me and most of them, but I also felt this sense both of instant community and continuity, as I’d seen Pigbag play this track live years before and had also seen and loved The Pop Group (Bristol post-punk agit-funkers) from whom Pigbag emerged.

You. Dancing. The worst of times…

Nothing terrible has happened to me personally, but in the early 1990s I helped put on a party at the 121 Centre in Brixton. There was a basement with a wooden staircase down to it. A guy fell straight from the top to the bottom, people carried him up (probably not the best thing to do in terms of first aid) but he died on the pavement outside – whether from the fall or that combined with drugs and alcohol I’m not sure.

Can you give a quick tour of the different dancing scenes/times/places you’ve frequented?

After school and youth club discos I started out with post-punk gigs, getting my glasses smashed in the mosh pit at The Undertones (Aylesbury Friars), leaping over the barriers at the Albert Hall to get to the front when Echo & The Bunnymen played there (1983). Then on to anarcho-punk squat gigs, mid-1980s (Old Kent Road Ambulance Station, Kings Cross Bus Garage), rare groove/funk nights 1987/88 (Jay Strongman’s Dance Exchange at The Fridge in Brixton, PSV in Manchester), ‘world music’ clubs (Mambo Inn in Brixton, Whirl-Y-Gig in Shoreditch Town Hall), indie pop nights in the late 80/early 90s (Camden Falcon, New Cross Venue), clubs in West Belfast (Felons). Everywhere possible with increasing frequency in the 1990s from house music clubs (Club UK, Ministry of Sound, Leisure Lounge, The Gallery at Turnmills, The Cross, The Aquarium), trance and techno nights (Megatripolis at Heaven, Eurobeat 2000), drum and bass (Speed at the Mars Bar) to free parties/squats (Cool Tan and Dead by Dawn in Brixton, bus garage in Hackney, United Systems parties in Market Road, north London). The photo right is in Ibiza (where else?), 1995. Finally stopped for a breather due to children later in the 1990s, sporadic and eclectic dancing, DJing and musicking ever since, highlights in the last year including Norman Jay at Notting Hill Carnival and rediscovering dancing to indie pop at How Does It Feel to be Loved? in Brixton.

When and where did you last dance?

Sean Rowley's Guilty Pleasures at Everything Must Go in Soho, just before Christmas 2006. It was most people’s last day at work for a week or two, so it was like the Saturday night release feeling magnified in intensity, hundreds of people singing along to Carly Simon (‘I had some dreams there were clouds in my coffee…’) dancing on tables and in every available space. I started having this utopian fantasy about everyone deciding that they wanted to carry on like this all the time and refusing to go back to work after the break - a kind of disco general strike spreading across the planet.

You’re on your death bed. What piece of music would make your leap up for one final dance?

Probably some epic house anthem, Scarlet Beautiful by The Beloved would certainly be up there as the song we played at our wedding. Your Loving Arms by Billy Ray Martin. Something like Joe Smooth ‘Promised Land’ or Bedrock’s 'For what you dream of' would also work. Or maybe ‘Walk away Renee’ (Four Tops). Or Belle and Sebastian’s ‘Boy with the Arab Strap’. Or…. Or….

Nu Rave

Naturally the hype about Nu Rave is bound to give us older ravers cause for wonder. Simon Reynolds, reflecting on The Klaxons, notes the abscence of any real sonic reference points to rave music - they are basically a guitar driven band after all. Nevertheless he still suggests that the 'fact that the Ghost of Rave, in however mis-shapen a state, stalks the culture again signifies something, surely. It announces a lack, speaks of a yearning'.

To a certain extent, 'rave' is just one more seam in the gold mine of past counter/sub cultures, a mine well explored by The Klaxons with their arch references to Burroughs ('Atlantis to Interzone' ), Crowley ('Magick') and Pynchon ('Gravity's Rainbow'). The term Nu Rave seems to have started as a joke, or perhaps more accurately a tongue in cheek hook for the music media coined by the KLF-literate Joe Daniel of Angular records, who released The Klaxons' first single. Nevertheless there is a tangible phenomenon with The Klaxons and a number of other bands standing aside from from the worst boring blokes with guitars indie-rockist counter-revolution.

The commonality between some of the more interesting newish bands is not really an imagined link to 'Rave' but an intelligent, anti-cool, playfulness, with a desire to create interesting situations rather than just fulfill a Brits school business plan. It is noteable that as well as The Klaxons, Art Brut, The Long Blondes, The Violets and Bloc Party all first released stuff through Angular, a small indie label whose 2003 New Cross compilation created an explosion of interest in the corner of South East London where I live. Actually most of the 'New Cross Scene' bands weren't from the area (The Klaxons and Violets were), but playing in local venues like the (sadly gone) Paradise Bar gave them a crowd and a leg up. Angular has functioned like some earlier classic indie labels such as Postcard or even Crass's label, content to put out one or two tracks by bands they like to introduce them to the world and then leaving them to make their own way. Angular reference points include riot grrrl and indie pop rather than the tedious 60s/70s bloke rock canon. As well as launching (or maybe fabricating) 'Nu Rave', Angular have also been credited by the NME with inventing 'art punk'.

Musically, all of this is quite diverse, but what has been exciting - and perhaps following in some kind of rave trajectory - has been a sense of adventure, of stepping outside the normal confines of predictable outfits and gigs, a sense of the crowd and not just the band. An excitable New York Times journalist may not have been entirely geographically or otherwise accurate in the following description: "The new rave scene is a small, tightly connected movement of artists, D.J.’s, bands and partygoers forged in a series of warehouse parties that, beginning in 2003, were organized by a gang of artists called the Wowow Boys, in New Cross, a ragtag neighborhood of students and boarded-up buildings southeast of London Bridge. As in the 1990s, the gatherings attracted newly formed bands that were eager to create an environment "where the specific aim was to party", said Jamie Reynolds, the bass player of the Klaxons'.


But there have been real warehouse parties -we went to one at The Old Seagar Distillery in Deptford last year (where The Klaxons played), there have been parties in Peckham, and yes there's even been the obligatory police presence without which no self-respecting youth scene is complete (see this report of a squat party in Shoreditch last July, pictured). The Klaxons, with their ear for melody, may be heading for bigger things, but less radio friendly outfits like Lost Penguin will no doubt be blasting party goers for a while longer. All we need now is a moral panic to really kick things off, but with so many first time ravers now writing for the British press, this looks unlikely.

(photo sourced from PopScene).

Burns Night

Rituals and other social occasions are defined by different mixtures of particular musics, intoxicants and behaviours. For Burns Night (25 January) the basic recipe is simple enough - whisky, Scottish music , a few Burns poems, maybe some haggis... Still, even with this recipe there's plenty of room for improvisation and last night saw a spontaneous Burns Night at 56a InfoShop - a small radical bookshop tucked behind a food co-op near the Elephant and Castle (South London). The shop has one of the largest stock of anarcho-punk CDs in London, so for music we turned to Oi Polloi's recent album of Scottish Gaelic punk (did play some more traditional Battlefield Band and Corries later). A bottle of Islay Mist was the beverage of choice, shared with anybody passing through provided they were prepared to open the collected poems of Burns at random and read a verse or two. A couple of nice Berliners told us about their place in the former East Berlin, a big ex-squat called Subversive with its own unlicensed bar and dancefloor downstairs. We dreamt of pulling something off like this in South London... maybe one day. Altogether... 'There's threesome reels reels, there's foursome reels, There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man, But the ae best dance ere came to the land Was-the deil's awa wi' the Exciseman'.