I recall attending last summer the week-end prior to Offworld a very private party at this location and felt so privileged to be there looking at the stars, through the opening in the trees.. the beauty .. and this year to celebrate Beltane, the ancient Celtic Fire Festival it happened again!



On Beltane night, the cattle were driven between two bonfires to protect them from disease and couples wishing for fertility would “jump the fires". The modern version still celebrates the marriage of the Goddess and the God, and the passage of the Goddess from Maiden to Mother. VJ’s and decor worked well at night as well as during the day.. an outdoor space can be difficult to define.. The visuals were particularly outstanding. I escaped on a walk in the desert.

In spite of the police getting involved at each and every stage of the party, whether in bad by first granting then refuting the licence a week prior to the party, or in good by not only helping the on-site first aid crew to deal with a person who collapsed on the dance floor and needed immediate medical attention, but also letting the party restart afterwards. Thumbs up to Surrey police on that one! Thank you Omniscience for your tactful approach!

The Omniscience Beltane outdoor party marked for me the start of the outdoor parties’ season. We had two beautiful stages between the main Psy stage and the traditional Omniscience live music stage. The latter not only allows for music to be played regardless, and in spite of the police requirements for the noise to be kept down, but also acts as a brilliant rain protection! Neat!

Although the sound had to be kept not as loud as we would have liked for quite a while, the music was of the highest quality from start to finish... Neutral Motion, Centauro, Ade Scorb, Tom Lurk, Karl, Natzan, Tim, Chris & Nico.. OOo and the new live act of the A.R.T Conspiracy, a side project from the Psymmetrix brothers al an' Richie and Tron, particularly got my attention as they successfully. combined Tron well known and loved sound with the harder edgy underground Psymmetix sound.
I simply HAD to go and ask who they were..

Besides a few hiccups, familiar faces, beautiful smiles and happy wacky people were all around..
Taking the risk to sound bias, this was for me as well as for many, many others a truly soul nourishing experience. Especially after all the recent problems we experienced in and around London! I hadn’t felt this safe in a long time! I shall certainly keep an eye out for Omniscience next events! I have to say, it is a pity there are not more week-ends in the month as 8 parties a month is nowhere near enough! Tehee..

My recommendation for the next two weeks? Goa Matrix, Indian connection and ... yes, they are finally back outdoors, Psycircle! Solution is Banana! .. See you on the dance floor, and definitely under the stars!

©Arial AElise

The real clincher came when the woman with the yellow flouro, sleep-stressed face and walkie-talkie burst into tears after spending five emotional and futile minutes contacting at least two separate radio networks to get the Word on how a recently arrived punter – e.g. me – could go about the simple business of purchasing a ticket to get into the site in the first place.

I felt sorry for, rather than angry with her; she had that unmistakable soldiered-out look of someone who's had way to big a job for almost anyone's shoulders to be able to carry dumped right on her head, like a metric-tonne sack full of what I later found out was strewn across the entire site, due to an overflown slurry-pit somewhere in the vicinity. More than half the security had walked off the job already, supposedly due to the lack of facilities laid on for their staff. It pretty much set the scene for the next thirty-six hours, to tell the truth.

I was already working out what I'd be spending the £100 entrance-fee on later that night, when a couple of already bedraggled dressed-to-party girls staggered arm-in-arm down from the main enclosed arena and told me that is was all – officially, according to the local council - over with and cancelled.

I hopscotched across the already savagely tractor-rutted path to the party towards the car park, where my mates had only just pulled-up, to tell them the good news after their hour long struggle to get through the steaming, petrol-guzzling queue for the festival site, wondering at the sheer lack of any steel mesh on the ground, and the management's obvious faith in the weather being good for whole of that long weekend. A friend who'd been on site since Tuesday later told me that it'd been heavily showering on-and-off since he'd got there, and in no fit state for any but the thickest or fittest since at least early Thursday morning. Never the kind of people to let small details like that stop us, we grabbed our tents and chattels and set off for the highest, driest slope we could find to get our Base Camp established – we'd already heard the words 'climatological emergency' and 'Official Disaster Zone' being bandied about by punters and staff like something out of an Al Gore Halloween Special: definitely time to show some car-park party spirit.

Not that there was anything else we'd have been able to to do for the next thirty-six hours, anyway: the main area was closed and thigh deep in slurried mud, but people were still arriving in droves, despite a BBC announcement that it was all definitely, for certainly, and officially cancelled. The Sunrise Official Website (the phonelines were out) was still advising people not to leave home, and if they had, to make sure they'd packed some wellies. Then, about half past six, the skies really opened up... Like they say, the worst disasters are usually at least partially man-made.

Well, it turned out that we'd probably picked the best place in Somerset to get stuck – and I mean stuck – in; not so far away, people were being air-lifted from the roofs of their cars, and two major road arteries were as blocked and flooded as a Glaswegian chip-shop addicts'. The nearby RAF and Royal Navy air bases were putting on a better show than any of the sound systems were, at least until later that Thursday night.

It was rough, but we'd seen rougher that actually worked for a full weekend, or even longer. It can be done - the Battle of the Somme went on for months, but at least they'd had more than one burger van in the car-park for the duration; it was lack of planning, co-ordination (of effort, as well as interests) and plain joined-up thinking that really killed the weekend – the entire site was, after all, set in a shallow, natural clay-lined bowl in the middle of the Somerset Levels... and rain does happen. One chemically optimistic lady had even got through to one of the remaining staffs' mobile numbers the next day, and suggested to all and sundry that everybody should have held hands in a ring, thought positive thoughts, and made it all well and working again: probably good advice, but a tad fucking late, I thought.

At least the lucky few in the main area, and those keen enough to wade through thigh deep liquid mud, human and animal faeces, Ribena slurry, and gods knows what other (hopefully organic) toxins in the pitch black after midnight managed to have a, and I quote, 'Bangin' Time'. The rest of us saturated plebs and those with non-disposable children to guard had to make do with making our own fun while helping to expand the nitrous oxide hole in the ionosphere for the environment, or something. About the only people to turn a profit outside of the charmed circle were the early-morning tent-robbers, who made a roaring trade, from what I heard and lost.

There was a lot of talk about greed, hubris, overextension, and almost suicidal levels of hoping for the best that night and next (thankfully dry) morning – there was even talk of a Gypsy's curse on the enterprise, laid the year before. Friday morning, the remaining staff and site-stewards whipped-up more environmental angst than Gordon Brown on a bad day in order to clear the site.

The rainstorm disaster they eagerly predicted for Friday noon had already happened – I'm sure the tale of the too-tripped-out-to-drive punter being told to 'grit his teeth and just go for it' was apocryphal, or a vile lie to start with. Even though we'd had a good, bracing, drugged-up adventure holiday, and could probably have gone on for days, we knew it was time to leave, get dry and maybe get checked-out for Weil's disease. Instead of waiting for a tractor to pull us out of its self-created quagmire, we manhandled our cannily-parked motor up and over the muddy ridge, hit firm ground, and got the Hell out of there.

The re-fund situation is still a bit... fluid, as of this piece going to pixels. There was on-site talk of insurance covering that tricky little question, as well as Acts of God and going out of business, but only time – and a lot of pressure from disappointedly and possibly traumatised punters – will tell in the end. Personally, not having paid in any conventional way, and having had a laugh myself, I couldn't give a monkey's, but seeing as this entire gig was billed as a safe, (non-Manson) family experience, rather than a 12-hour Underground/Underwater techno Bangorama, I can only feel sympathetic for all the poor punters who (eventually) left feeling slightly 'had'. I'm sure there's a lesson in all this, somewhere, but I'm buggered if I can figure out what it was...

©Copyright Reverend Sven 2008

The film crew sent my camera-shy, telly-phobic self scuttling for the relative safety of the darker rooms before I had the chance to immerse myself in their discourse. But before I move on to that, I’d like to point out that I might have found the discussion to be a teeny bit more inclusive if the panel members had been seated in the center of the room, clubbers surrounding them and free to join in. Because (to quote the immortal Dynamo City) “We’re the future, your future”.

Not that I’m holding this against the Luminopolis crew, oh no. The idea of the debate forum was a good one, although it seemed to be in trial phase, like many things going on that night. Just a friendly suggestion for next time…

There was great dancing in the electro house room, the only place where I saw people really letting go. Multiple square screen projections flicker behind the decks, a-la Brick Lane. Better still were the crowd, who were anything but Brick Lane – friendly, fun and as up for trying something new as I am. I’d never really noticed until then how a grittier atmosphere suits that style of music (which my friend called ‘filthy house’). I’ll have to give that another try in the future.

The chill-out room was as chill-out rooms usually are. White-tented dancefloor under black lights; wire and cloth creations blooming from the floor like sci-fi fungi… On to the next room, then: Small World.

I should point out here that wasn’t drinking for the first time ever in a nightclub. As a result, two realizations slowly sunk in over the course of the night. 1) Nearly every trendy/eclectic/crusty/ psytrancer around me was extremely pissed and 2) not drinking makes you So. Hungry.

By the time I’d reached the Small World room, I was so intent on feeding that the only thing I clearly remembered afterwards was the unbleached Venetian cream cake I ate (a steal at 50p a slice). There were some sort of ethnic bands playing in the background, mad tango dancers, and what-not. I barely took them in through a sugar-induced haze. Sorry; you’ll have to blame the baker.

I was just about to say, “Excuse me, can I have another slice..?” when my friend re-appeared and beckoned for me to follow him outside for a smoke. That was when I almost tripped over a portrait-drawing class in the corner of the room. As you do.

Before I had a chance to digest all of this (excuse the pun) we were at the front of the queue leading outside to the smoking section.

“You have a smoking bracelet?” asked a smiley, likeable man in an orange security vest, standing by the door.

“No,” I said, “Where can we get one?”

“At the bar,” he said cheerfully.

“Are they free?” I asked heavily, already knowing that they weren’t. He laughed and shook his head.

It was a shame, really, because I wanted to like him. I did. But I couldn’t, not after having paid twenty quid to get in, then two quid for a bag check, then another pound to get the ciggies out of the bag, and now this…. Liking him was simply costing too much.

Sad to say that this was my lasting impression of the party. As I counted my spare change the next morning, all I could think was, “I so can’t afford to like this.” I had rent to pay, after all.

Therein lies the complication with club parties: that invisible cash barrier my friend and I kept coming up against. You can give me all the freedom in the world inside of a club, but if I have to pay for it then it’s not really free, is it? Granted, SEOne is one of the more expensive venues to rent, but that only makes me wonder why they used it. The more people have to strain against that cash barrier to get at your ideals, the less accessible those ideals become.

Moving On To The Future Of Rave

Even if the Luminati haven’t come from the same free party background that I have, if they’re serious about spreading their messages of creativity and awareness-raising then they ought to consider doing non-club parties from time to time. Of course, this raises the question of how to do non-club parties without risking people lives, which has become an issue over recent years.

At the first free parties I went to (circa ’97, old-timer) there seemed to be an anarchist/anti-capitalist philosophy implicit in the parties themselves, which had nothing to do with rhetoric and everything to do with experience.

Trusting people to make their own rules in a free environment seemed to mine untapped reserves of creativity and sensitivity from them. Of course, those parties had a lot chemical help from MDMA and acid, drugs which chemically-enhance creativity and sensitivity.

Fast-forward to the early 2000s, when cocaine and ketamine dominated the scene and parties had switched to mining selfishness and cynicism from people, instead.

Self-regulation of free parties became more extreme in response to the violence that resulted. As the restrictions grew and grew, creativity evaporated and the anarchist undertone of the scene became more rhetorical than experiential.

Now it’s reached a point where creating a totally free, creative experience is just too fraught with legal and illegal threats by everyone from government to gangs. People who would once have immersed themselves in free parties increasingly choose (or are forced to) express themselves and educate themselves in isolated ways. Photos, videos, clothing, websites… I can remember a time when these things were accessories to the experience of a party. Now they’re a substitute for it, which leaves a basic need – the need for experience - unmet.

So where do we go from here? I don’t know, but since no one else seems to know either, I’m going to throw this suggestion out there. I think organizers should carry on doing free parties… but insist that people leave their on-line gadgets and status symbols at home. For one thing, these objects create a barrier between the person and party.

How many people did I see watching Luminopolis through their camera phones, eyes distanced by a mechanical lens? If only people would stop trying to capture the moment and start being it, they’d merge with their scene and each other. Establishing a personal rapport with the people around you is what really makes for a safe, free place to be.

Secondly, gadgets attract thieves. It’s a fact. In 1997 you never saw people holding anything more expensive than a can of beer at a party. And guess what? Roving gangs of thugs were not a problem.

“With freedom comes responsibility,” the old saying goes. If people started taking more responsibility for themselves and their belongings, I reckon the scavengers would soon lose interest in squat parties. And just like that, a cheaper forum for awareness-raising would be born.

© Alexia

It is Friday and I am heading south to play an acoustic set with some friends, not at a concert, but at a party in a garden with 6000 other “gardeners” of which I am one. With soundscape courtesy of Beth Orton, Ffion Regan and Captain Beefheart, I meander along country lanes aware that I have seen no signs to confirm that I am going in the correct direction. Promptly I am forced to take a left out of the trees, and there before me, on horizon, are several tall silken masts calling out like sirens bathing in the ochre of this glorious summer’s evening. I smile to myself as I turn into the entrance since I am greeted with the first of many signs: “come and play”.

I quickly find the gang, pitch my new tent and, in readiness for the rest of the evening, shimmy into the ludicrous juxtaposition that comprises a slinky cocktail dress, combat trousers and wellies. Yes, this festival is all about dressing up and letting go, and there are few, if any, party poopers. Everyone has made an effort, and this particular guy in a frock is feasting on the continual stream of female compliments as he continues on his reconnaissance mission.

And no, my arse doesn’t look big in it either – but if it were, I could always call in at the Emotional Rescue Area, seek the advice of the Bad Advice Bears or be granted a wish by the beautifully enigmatic Fairy Wishmother.

The party is set around a magnificent lake. A natural amphitheatre forms before the Great Stage which itself looms up from the waters like some monstrous great white shark, mouth gaping wide at the sight of such frivolity.

Impressive as it is, and even more so as the night draws in and the lighting casts more magic over the garden, the “Shark Stage” is but a single piece of the whole. For all around the shark are smaller more intimate, more quirky stages, like schools of pilot fish. The Feast of Fools, the Living Room with its cosy intimacy, Wild Things Stage, Small World and the Pagoda are to name but a very few. And passing between all of these satellites becomes my gardening task for the entire weekend.

I catch the end of the Echo and the Bunnymen set. They blast out some classics and Ian McCulloch, steeped in perpetual arrogance, announces that the last song “The Killing Moon” is the “greatest song ever written”. I beg to differ but thoroughly enjoy it all the same. I wander over to the floating Pagoda Stage to catch some tunes. It is packed and the gentle swaying motion is slightly disconcerting at first so I decide to go back on land and see part of the Utah Saints set before heading for a more intimate set of “dub-diddly” music at the Small World Solar Stage.

I have no real agenda other than to treat myself to a decent nights sleep on the first night but as the sun’s first rays warm my face I am about to kiss goodbye to sleep for the rest of the weekend.

We wander up on the hill that overlooks the lake, buy some breakfast and sit comfortably in one of the many cushioned seating areas. It is a great vantage point and I stay for quite a while relaxing and chatting to people. Suitably satiated we return to camp, change into another outfit and wander off to experience more.

I happen upon some very inspiring installations and live art. There is an enormous hand that floats in the middle of the lake, a tunnel made from pallets, half a car, a door that opens and closes on anything you wish, a funeral parade, a pimp-your-pram stall and the 'Cats are Little People in Fur Coats' Action Camp. Meow! I am granted a wish by the beautiful Fairy Wishmother, catch the end of a mud wrestling match and witness a boat race on the lake.

Over on the main stage is the sultry Candie Payne. She oozes out some fine numbers but I remain unconvinced, even if she does look like a cross between Audrey Hepburn and Sharon Osbourne. I am even less convinced by the hype surrounding Mercury Prize nominees New Young Pony Club. Despite impulsive angular guitar underpinned by stomping bass lines, the rather preppish keyboards and derivative 80’s prancing and posturing are very much indicative of the current state the media fawning over uninspiring UK artists at the expense of informing of real talent .Yawn. The rest of the large crowd are in obvious disagreement so I wander off in search of the emperor’s tailor.

I fail in my quest but do find the Vampire tent. Having interviewed a really nice bunch of vampires at a meet in London a few years earlier, I am almost tempted to participate in the Vampire Speed Dating. Unsure as to whether my dentistry and neck will be up to the task, I simply admire the people lazing around in coffins and try to figure out whether a coffin will fit in my tent.

It is starting to drizzle so I follow the fairy lights back to camp where I cement wonderful friendships with my new-found family over the course of the entire night. It is not long before the Sunday morning sunshine informs me that the rain has ceased and the umbrellas and rainwear can be put away. Another glorious day ahead to be filled with merriment and lunacy.

It is time to change again and go on a group wander. Dressed as a duck, Mick outclasses us all and no doubt will be remembered for many a year to come. He is photographed and filmed continually and not once steps out of character. It is getting rather warm so we decide sit down a quench our thirst with Pimms galore before the onslaught of the Great Custard Pie fight and a fantastic cricket match.

Before long I am on stage performing a short set of acoustic numbers appropriately at the Feast of Fools. I have an amazing time and even get to get a butterfly tattoo and say hello to a white rabbit – a real one!

Instruments, gear and food sorted, we head off to experience more. Johnny Bramwell of I am Kloot fame is performing an intimate solo set. It is excellent but I would have preferred the band to be present to help drown out the rest of the festival.

Eventually we end up at the Great Stage for the finale. The legendary Prince Buster and his band have the entire crowd performing ska dancing to the very best of their abilities. There is full moon, a clear starry sky and after the final encore the entire festival howls in unison to herald the end of the organised lunacy. Magnificent!

I finally go back to my tent for some sleep at dawn feeling very tired but very happy. This has been an almost perfect weekend and I am planning to return next year and make it perfect. But for now I head north to begin the start of my adventures in the deserts of California and Nevada. Hi ho Silver!
©Zee
photo gallery

It worked with an underground feel where the smell of squat parties oozed from all those present. A friendly assortment of smiley peeps steered the night forward.
I particularly liked the “Papadisco Sound System” in residence at the bar. Yeah some good stuff, even reggae in a Brixton stylee. It worked well to dispel that usual weird ambiance of that unadorned space between the main room and the chill out. The bar girls were mellow and gentle and that has to be mentioned!

A fantastic change from sauna to chill out room has occurred since my last visit. A simple solution was provided by 2 monster fans and I stayed there and danced, especially to Hamish, Bedouin and Simon B from Twisted Records.
The main room was busy with room for expression. I particularly grooved to Beatnik, Etnarama and Naxto who drifted the sound with enough distortion to keep me intrigued and asking for more stimuli. Brilliant, it is psy-trance?

That’s where it’s at now! It’s the scene that will take you further in self-exploration and release you to trip the light fantastic. Over?
Yeah, those nights are fast and furious that you are losing yourself in time that doesn’t wait.
© Le Mufti
Photo gallery

Dillinja and Lemon D, the duo behind Valve, are pretty talented guys: as well as being effin’ good producers and DJ’s, they actually built their rig especially for Drum & Bass and it is known to be the loudest in the world. It’s also a very clean sound with absolutely no distortion or any other unwanted noise. Because of the volume, earplugs were available on the door, and there were signs everywhere advising people to wear them to protect their hearing. The idea of Valve soundsystem is you turn up the volume and feel the vibration of the bass thru’ your body. Nice.

The crowd was very mixed racially, all quite young, and very friendly. There was also some mad leaping, jumping and hip shaking on that dancefloor. I was in the moshpit dancing with these huge Asian guys, and I had to be careful not to get knocked over!

My favourite set of the night came from Pendulum, who absolutely rocked it in the main room. This was the third time I’ve seen this lot – they played all their hit tracks ‘Tarantula’, ‘The Vault’ etc, but they sounded far better than I’d ever heard them before. Amazing what a difference decent speakers make.

The bassbins cranked up to the max when Lemon D followed with an insane set, cutting between jungle, and a heavy, grimy, mishmash of world groove samples. Arriba! Personally, I would have liked it even more if the MC hadn’t been ranting incessantly throughout the whole set. Sometimes it’s good just to let the music talk.

In the bar area, DJ Flight’s set was like rolling waves: from liquid D&B, getting progressively harder, then taking it down again slightly in preparation for the next DJ. Shame I missed a lot of her set, but she’s now most definitely on my ‘must see’ list.

After that the vodka took hold, and I lost track of who was playing, in what room, and when. The ‘baby box’ is an interesting little space with chillout sofas surrounded by what looked like fairy lights dangling in fronds from the ceiling. The bar is a larger space, with lots more activity happening, and the ‘box’ aka the main room, was like a massive D&B church where the faithful lose it to the beats and feel the bass in their bellies.

The general feel of MoS is quite commercial, and the bar is expensive at £8 for a double vodka, but at least it’s quality stuff, served with ice & slice.
Security kept a low profile, with just the occasional guy walking through the crowd. There was a presence on the door, but it wasn’t rude and intrusive like it used to be at Ministry.

This venue once had a terrible reputation for over-zealous and moody security, and because of that, I avoided it for years. However in the last two times I’ve been recently, the doormen have actually been pretty chilled. Keep it up like this and I’ll become a regular.

©Mandi Peers

Medusa?
Amazed it still stands where so many other “dives” have gone by the wayside. It has a feel like Camberwell’s Imperial Gardens once had. It’s barely a step up from the type of squat you’d find in a warehouse furnished with the most basic of amenities but resources of comfort are more often the product of the mind’s imagination. Well let’s just say it is a place for partying free of bureaucratic obstacles and hassles. Who cares about another dodgy toilet? When the security is ok and the staff gentle with a smile if somewhat elusive at times.

The night?
Again with trepidation, adrenaline rushing, we entered ready for the night, without end, to take us on a journey of the senses. And we were not disappointed. From that moment on the magical mystery tour by DJ Peace and the gang increased its momentum and never let go. Electro, beats and an astute mix of techno embellished what was essentiallt psy-trance experience but like no other. It oozed with invention or should I say experimentation. It dared to challenge us from our “blasé” state of partying boredom…you know, that “done it all and seen it all attitude” etcetera... But the experience was being lived there, with every step, on the dance floor. New forms of expression were evolving out of these mixes. There was so much more to be heard which hadn’t yet been collaged into forms and colours. And as they blossomed, our senses were progressively overawed and the dancing logically took over taking us beyond our usual moves. Hats off to Spacedout Infinity Sounds!

Atmospheric heat alert!
Hardly anyone was to be found upstairs in the wooden panelled chill-out room where a cocktail was being served up of funky beats with a more than reasonable smattering of various “riddims” and some minimal techno, which always reminds me of tech house without the fake tan. The oven-like conditions were compelled by a restriction from the local council to keep the noise down for the local residents benefit. So the door to the roof there is kept shut, by order, which is a shame, as over the years it had relieved us with some well-appreciated coolness. The room therefore never filled to capacity, Yes shame! It had loads of potential music-wise while being lit in a surreal red glow that gave the impression that the whole space had been dyed red from top to bottom.

Bar?
Or is that a saloon with too much attitude? But that goes with the territory in this part of Colharbour Lane. It too often feels like re-entering Babylon when your mind is going cosmic and your body still heats from the dancing. The journey has begun and cannot end. You are buzzing and the adrenaline is now in full throttle mode. But wait! This bar. Pause to think about this point: Its something that always seems to clash with the overall mood of the party. You enter normality with a hint of dodge. As if shielded by its own protection screen this watering hole still resists the parties that come a visiting. May be also because it is never decorated. There is no follow through in the theme that illustrates the event. It has the look and feel of a pub and nothing more.

Fourth gear and counting…
Predominantly black with hints of blues and white sparkly lights accompanied the action in the main psy-trance arena. It was just enough to be effective. Quite dark and moody but always tempting to stay and linger in. Tickled all over by electric tension before the dancing finally takes us away and we are truly gone. By far, the best room with the added bonus of an upstairs gallery. A black painted staircase takes you to a hidden dimension. It has a feel to it that adds to the wild journeys of the imagination that are ridden by a host of sensations.
This night remains quite clear where so many other nights, of late, have troubled my waking state with feelings of blurredness.

Often failing me in proper recall. Too elaborate for me to grasp or explain. To clearly describe from my addled memory…Hmm indeed! What types of visuals had enthralled me on those nights? And the music… a thumping mishmash that still resonates in the cranium and it’s Tuesday! Wicked!

This was a great night of the senses by Spacedout Infinity Sounds while it mingled with that regular lot of connoisseurs. Yeah you! The “Dudes and Duchesses”: Mature and international travellers that you are. All of us are astronauts of the mind with sentimental bollocks shared to the endless spiral of the musical onslaught.
Yeah!
We’ll be back, I mean they...
©Le Mufti

Photo Gallery
Spacedout Infinity Sounds

What happened?...it went too fast!
Yes sir! Tiredness somehow seems irrelevant to moan about here.
The flashing strobes, the blurred imagery of décor and video swirls in our minds.
The continuous unadulterated movement of people, lost in their off-loading of the passing week, now released into full-blown manic adrenaline.
Energy is there to exhale into this. A powerful mix of psy trance at times bordering on techno.
Electronica with soul that works deep into our psyches.

But sometimes too uncaring as well in it’s machine-like thump, crash, bang and whizz of echoes bouncing off the walls. This aggression of the senses never ceased. We soaked it up with all present there, sharing imaginative expression together in a veiled solidarity of purpose.
I know I danced as if it was my first party. I danced as if there was no tomorrow, no week ahead. I danced as if I was in a squat party that had found its niche for the first time in a club environment. A place down a cut-throat street in Southwark.

Contra-culture comes to Jack’s without having to look over its shoulder all night. This is a place where fresh anarchic creativity and attitude in motion is welcomed and tolerated by all. There are no rules: there is just the music and the company to guide us all into that “unwind mode”.

On the down note, the chill out room was a tad too dark and felt oppressive because the rich decorations there were somehow visually disconcerting in relation to the dub and reggae beats that trespassed the progressive electronic landscape. In effect, there was a lack of continuity. It was indeed hard to relax sometimes or even to keep dancing in front of the cosmic DJ booth. Well except for those heavy trippers who enjoy mixing heavy bass beats alongside progressive beats.
Why? To me that’s like mixing E=MC2 versus Ragamuffin! Innit?!
It was unfortunate (sic) hiccup as the overall set up was good. It went from electro to minimal techno throughout the night, with varying high points, caused essentially by the intrusiveness of the reggae. It jolted us to flee in a hurry from our reverie of astral flight back to the main room’s action.

Sometimes the mix worked yes, but it was too often too disjointed from one DJ to another. Yes, puzzling because of their choice of tunes. Often too strong to chill to because the (ethnic) bass sound was distorting the flow of the electro-science rhythms with an upsetting regularity. But there were plenty of other good rhythms and poetry there to glide to.

The main room won hands down for its consistency. Loads of respect goes to Compressor and his mates who kept the momentum alive there well into the Sunday morning. This is a party here that works but needs to improve the mood of it’s chill out room. It needs to define a structure of “order of play” for it’s DJs. Too much distortion in the rate of volume which also needs to be addressed so that all the contrasting styles can work properly. This is not by any means a major problem though. This is a winning formula, which is well attended by all who dig psy. A party that will be talked about for ages until we meet again at Jack’s.
© Le Mufti
Photo Gallery

Yet no problems here! As this is not a regular night on the calendar it is usually more then well attended even if sometimes the venue don’t open the doors until 10.45…not very together, you might say!

But that’s ok. The wait was well worth it. The place decorated with a lot of care and attention. Bright UV colours throughout. The chill out room was a feast of reds, oranges and yellows looking down from the ceiling in a sort of matrix-like arrangement of strings, fabrics and images. It had a tea stall with light refreshments served all night by friendly staff.

Yeah! all the peeps from the security onwards were mellow. That’s got to be one of the main advantages of this venue and why it’s so popular with underground peeps at the moment, while main stream clubs still try to lure us into their pseudo-underground parties. But who is duped these days? Definitely not this crew of DJs and their mates..

The main room was happy throughout the night and sometimes left the chill out room partially empty for the first hours of the night. The music was consistent and I’d like to mention “Error Collective” who didn’t disappoint and kept it close to the groin with the intensity of their set. Carlos Santan who was deep, dark and dirty and the roller coaster ride continued with the likes of Jamie Robinson who was impressive, Spiney also tickled my ear drums with his lively brand of soulful psy trance.

The entire psy trance spectacle was excellent with some interesting samples taken from heavy metal bands like Led Zeppelin and Lynard Skynard with the odd soupcon of punk-gothic…
The one thing that puzzled me was why there weren’t any copies on sale of the new album on the night? I know I wasn’t the only one interested in acquiring a copy. It later transpired that in a typically hippy fashion there were problems with the final mastering hence no records then but they should be here now. Long live underground! Check Wildthings site for more info.

Wildthings know how to throw a good party. Always worth changing your plans at the last minute if they are in town. Proven DJs that will keep you dancing most of the night with a friendly vibe to hug your senses into a big grin of psychedelic pleasure.
This bunch of dudes also has remained faithful to their underground roots and the love of the music. It’s reasonably priced throughout with a proven line up to release the weekly drudgery and welcome in a higher state of pleasure.
Be there next time!
© Le Mufti
Wildthings Records

A good crowd was present first but had drifted away by 4am to catch Atlantis banging at the Colliseum. Well, you know, for all those hardcore hedonists who don’t know how to stop! And need to keep on partying until lunchtime or even into Monday if given half the chance.
Fairytales is a lovely party that has been around for a few years now and they presented vivacious psytrance throughout the night.
Simo, Marcello and all the Fairy Tales crew did a fine job. I particularly liked the two parabolic dishes suspended above the DJ decks reflecting light effects like a frame to the VJing screen behind.
It produced a very effective visual stimulation that was quite mesmerising especially if some of the present were experiencing an inward journey of fun with visuals to boot.
The upstairs space was pretty funky with some light progressive and ambient, which I wasn’t familiar with but which impressed me nonetheless. Nova was particularly inventive with a wide repertoire of smooth eclectic offerings that merged into a sound tapestry at the decks that created a background for conversations in the chill out with mates recovering from the action downstairs that had it's ups and lows during the night. Special mention to Simo who was one of the highlights with Nick No name who never disappoints and keeps you figuring on the dance floor where this DJ is going to take you next.
...

Atlantis at the Colliseum was thronging in sweat with total action on the dance floors of the two rooms on offer. The main room was quite hectic with the clock informing me that it was 8am and still we all danced without a worry or care, as if the night had just started!

I pitched my dancing space on the platform left of the stage and danced my socks off to banging psytrance delivered with a high octane, while watching all the peeps giving it large.

Reminded me of those rave parties you used to trawl the M25 with your crew on a weekend many eons ago.

That same energy and joy converted on people’s faces and so late into the morning it was really great to see and be part of.

The second room was meant to be a sort of chill out but I wasn’t impressed since one could not rest there.

It was another dance room with a lighter selection of house and progressive beats but still banging nevertheless with the same intensity as the main room.

And the main area it was which stole the show because it never ceased in the intensity of participation and thus till 10am or was that lunchtime?
©Le Mufti
Fairy tales gallery
Atlantis Gallery

We made our way around the stunning building, soaking up the luscious atmosphere, checking out the dramatic decor - classically sumptuous sexy darkness and heavy red velvet drapes, to finally settle down for a while in the amphitheatre. It was a generous seating for the less adventurous ones, to watch the visuals - monsters and naked ladies, silhouette striptease with ostrich feathers – astounding stimulating eye candy.

We couldn't chill out for long though, as “Can'tsitdownjumparoundandupsidedown” 50's rock & roll & swinging twist were pumped out into crowd. When the opening band, Last Man Standing in their pimply outfits came to the stage the enormous ballroom was already packed, and I was having visual overload spasms from looking around at the beautiful people in their attire: pearls, corsets, coquettish pin-up burlesque, silent movie gorgeousness, and sinister elegant flamboyance.
Pete Bennett exploded onto the stage with his new band, delivering a fire cracker bursting performance with shouty jumping-jack style contagious energy.

Upstairs there was the Casino Room, with blackjack and roulette tables, and the wildest looking variety of creatures, a beautiful blue Smurf girl, dandies, demons and blood thirsty vampires descended from the darkest corners out to play out unscripted horror show.
Back to the stage where Urban Voodoo Machine were amazing alongside Lady Ane Angel performing fire and the gong dance and two drummers showing off their skills in synchronized drumming.

A vicar rocking the giant bass was also present to add to the confusion and consequently at the end of their set the band was mostly writhing on the floor, musically convulsing.

No time to even make a rollie, time is priceless, besides something else is going on behind us, so we quickly made our way to the middle of the ballroom where the dazzling neo-burlesque artist Empress Stah was performing her twisted cabaret and internationally acclaimed chandelier sling routine and amazing aerial acrobatics - sensational sparkly erotic circus. The stripping act culminated with the removal of a strategically placed crystal necklace from her glittery lady garden so to speak.I stood so close underneath her that the body sequins she was adorn with were falling on my hair, like pixie dust.
And I was enchanted.

We had a snoop around the Changing Room, the lavishly decorated boudoir of Madame Mishka, where the stylists who had risen from the dead especially for this night, were on hand to provide the less extravagantly dressed with costumes, ball gowns, corsets, tuxedos, trilbies, top hats, exquisite masks, feathers and wholesome fanciness.

Deviant Aerial's rope performance was awe inspiring air acrobatics, mesmerizing the crane necked audience.

Then we feasted our eyes on more burlesque air shenanigans with a lady on a cute little pony hanging from the ceiling! Then there were also flapper style cabaret dancers, lip synching drag queens and vampire synchronized dancing.

Lost Vagueness pulled out all the stops and the 2200 capacity venue was comfortably packed, so you still had space to swing your scythe or pitchfork around. This was an extravaganza cabaret and burlesque orgy at its best and sleaziest. We were transported into another world full of beauty and glamour, with more than a lashing of twisted decadent horror. It was a visually explosive cocktail of surrealism & "freakiness", executed by scandalously seductive misfits mingling with grotesque zombies and ghouls.

I see you crying into your soup for having missed this wonderland night of debauchery, but all is not lost. Sell your soul {you won't be needing it when you're having this much fun} and get yourself a time machine to experience it for yourself or watch out for the next Lost Vagueness spectacular on NYE.
©Nunuki
photo gallery by Genie

Loop is a new kid on the block offering break beats and funky grooves. Better attended than other first nights I have been recently. If truth be told it felt like you were at some pal’s house party. Good VJ-visuals through out the night and a quality gang of DJs. Notably “Rennie Pilgrem” an old master of the decks. Yeah he’s been around in the break beats scene for years! He was the headline act here.

The overall feeling between the DJs was of sharing and mutual appreciation without any competition usually associated with some nights. Very friendly even for a stranger coming off the street.

Loaded with electrifying energy, the androgynous “Sidetrakka” was full-on with loads of attitude and very entertaining. “Disco Patrick” fresh and innovative as ever, kept my feet glued to the boards with a big smile on my face.
Well now we have to see if Chris and Martin and all the crew carry on this party. It has potential to soar in the break beats arena and make its own statement.

Bit down and funky with eclectic flashes of pop, hints of disco with some electronica created a salad that was served to everyone’s appreciative delight. Cooling down with mates, we sat with our backs against a backdrop of fluffy furry walls in the basement chill out room and in the glow of iridescent white walls of course!
© Le Mufti

Their latest innovation is Planet Angel Rocks - a one-off Sunday party, where the main focus was on live bands, with DJ’s filling in between the live acts. Still; PA residents, U4IC, Matt Therapy, and Dr Fluff got people moving with their more eclectic than usual selection of beats. I remember hearing plenty of ska, and Prodigy tracks.

There were four bands on in total: my faves were Patladjan and Subsource, who played more dance-orientated styles. Patladjan, whose girl singer had a lovely haunting voice, began their set in a very chilled ambient way, slowly building up the speed until the last couple of tracks, which were pretty damn ravey.. Subsource are a fusion of breaks and drum & bass, sometimes supported on the mic by Lady MC. This time, their set was more breaks-orientated, although the dnb tunes and basslines did kick in towards the end.

Other bands on included the headliners Horsebox, who were very indie-rock, and drew a large appreciative crowd (not my cuppa tea tho’), and Crossfader, who were more pop-orientated, with some funny lyrics and onstage patter by the singer Arif. Their other singer also played an impressive bit of baritone clarinet. Impressively, it was their debut gig – the facts that they are all experienced musicians, and have rehearsed intensively throughout the summer showed brilliantly in the tightness of their set.

There were also video projections, showing the bands onstage, as well as some very interesting effects, which went with the music. Plus, the whole thing was being broadcast live on the web.
The crowd there were mainly PA regulars; a very friendly mish mash of hippies and ravers of varying ages and backgrounds. It did take a little while to get going, with the place not really filling up until about 4pm. After that, it was comfortably full

As well as the music, Planet Angel were doing the food: it was all good tasty veggie stuff, available all day.
All this was happening at the Jamm bar on Brixton Road – a nice looking place with a Mediterranean feel to it; all russet tiles near the bars, plus booze that was reasonably priced (unlike PA’s other venue, Hidden).

Jamm has two rooms; one of which was used as a dining and chillout area with relaxing music. A nice touch was the ‘food and entertainment menus’ on each of the tables. Also worth noting is that it’s wheelchair accessible, through a side door.

It was a nice place to be on a Sunday. I do hope they decide to hold this one again sometime.

For more info on Planet Angel parties go to www.planetangel.net

©Minnie Mouse
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Photos used with permission of Planet Angel. All copyrights reserved.
Glenn Dunwell

There is so much on offer at Synergy. May be there is too much? But that is the Horn of Plenty nature of this event…well this festival. A time to reconnect with people from all over the shop. One after another familiar face passing by as you hustle through the crowd. The vibe was electric especially in the psytrance room where every one gave it all they had and more…

The rest is a blur of sensations for me, coupled with interesting encounters with people I didn’t expect to see. I was missing my girlfriend there but reconnecting with her best mate. That’s what is typical of this massive social gathering. Full of surprises!
I’ve said this before and it is self-evident that this the closest you are going to get to a festival now as the miseries of cold and rainy nights take over those 6am mornings of clubland.

Synergy is an active people forum. People are coming from all over the country and not just London. It is a chance to compare notes about future festies between escapades to the various areas. Or just to reminisce about this year’s happenings. With all that’s on offer it is frankly physically impossible to take it all in over one night. You have the shops, the acoustic rooms showcasing new bands alongside more established outfits.

You have also speakers, poets and acrobats and so on and so on in five sprawling rooms. But the most vivacious of them all is the psytrance room with transcendental beats
The impression I got this time at Synergy was that the “hippy” ethos or style had been dampened down somehow for a formula best suited to a more mainstream crowd.

There was a more basic feel to the rooms and the décor wasn’t as overpoweringly fluffy as it sometimes is. The healing area, usually one of the most beautiful spaces, had been reduced in size to a platform in the last of the Blue rooms with some bleak looking drapes for decor as if an after thought. Pity…

So you have to go back every month, innit! - groan! Too much for my old bones? Well, people don’t need prompting, do they? They’ve already checked the dates for the next Synergy and the merry go round continues to turn…

© Le Mufti
photo gallery

We arrived late afternoon on Friday after a journey of tardy planes, cancelled trains and delayed automobiles and immediately set up camp. There were signs of earlier rain but the day was clearing up nicely in time for the promised sunshine.

After an early dinner à la camping stove, we proceeded to the main festival area to sample the delights on offer. We walked around for a while, taking in the colourful bars such as the Indian-themed Bollywood Bar, complete with shimmering Rajasthani parasols, and the striped “big top” tents housing an eclectic mix of entertainment, such as theatrics, crowd-pulling live bands and comedy acts.

Friday’s final act on the main stage was Massive Attack and I had been looking forward to this for some time. We managed to thread our way through the crowds already gathered and managed to get to what felt like only half a mile from the stage. After three tracks accompanied by an awesome lightshow and a battering from other revellers trying to make room to dance a little, we decided it was time to fight our way out of the crowds, like rugby players leaving the scrum, to comparative space and a long awaited beer.

The former was managed with only a little fuss but the latter unfortunately was impossible.

An alcoholic drink at around midnight? In Ireland? At the Electric Picnic? We discovered that we might as well have been searching for the Holy Grail. This seemed rather hypocritical as the festival had received sponsorship from alcohol producers bringing us both the “Southern Comfort Crawdaddy” stage (New Orleans flavoured jazz, roots etc) and the “Bacardi B-Live” stage (predominantly Latino influenced house) both serving a range of cocktails, up until to the 10pm curfew anyway.

The early hours of Saturday morning brought the start of the rain and unfortunately this was to be the theme for the remainder of the festival. A wet weekend in Ireland at the end of the summer. Somehow we really shouldn’t have felt surprised.


The festival organisation left a little to be desired. We noticed a distinct lack of stand-pipes to collect fresh water for drinking, cooking and washing, vast queues for toilets around the main site, with, at one particular location, a whole four portaloos provided often with queues of around 50 people waiting up to 30 minutes for the privilege of a pee! It was therefore of little surprise to see men standing, backs to the fence, obviously having an al fresco pee, and who could blame them when faced with such a long wait.
One of the first oddities we noted when we ventured out Saturday morning was the fact that the entire site was split and fenced into various subdivisions, each with friendly security at each entrance. We are not talking simply fencing off the various artists and crew here; we are talking the public areas themselves.
In fact the main area, with its access to the stage and some of the many types of shop and bar, were home, for the early part of the day at least, to some gardaí, a few security guards, random artists and crew who seemed to rattle round in vast weather-beaten plains of emptiness. This seemed rather weird at a festival of some 35,000 revellers.

As we stumbled across the main camping areas, crammed to the hilt with tents pitched to a fine tolerance of literally millimetres, we started to gauge the true size of this event. We were also relieved to see that plenty more shops and facilities abounded and were available to the masses - from welly sellers, beer sellers, the usual festival food traders, the ubiquitous Jo Bananas camping emporium, through to beauty parlours where you could get a hair wash and blow dry - no, that was "blow dry".

There was even a barbeque area for the optimistic, oh and a few more toilets, showers and loads of enormous queues of immensely patient people.

On our way back we discovered the Body & Soul Village. This was a bit more intimate with the ID Spiralesque chill area and the Amnesty International area with its small but beautifully positioned stage and natural amphitheatre. The sun was beginning to make an appearance and hinted at what lay beneath all the waterproofs and wellies.

We were glad the sun had its hat on for a while and we watched as the throngs began to make their way through the security gates to the main arenas; one by one getting their bags searched and their drinks confiscated and binned - presumably so they could take advantage of the liberal drinks licence that was afforded in all its archaic glory!

It was early evening and we had been lucky - the strong winds had cleared the skies and the site was now ebb of fairies, pirates, skeletons, and afro disco freaks.. In fact, the opportunity to dress up and strut your stuff, even if you had not brought your own gear was well catered for and well taken up.

There were shops selling and hiring paraphernalia of all varieties and, of course, the Lost Vagueness Changing Room jammed packed full of elegant gowns, tuxedos, boas and gloves, trilbies and toppers.
Some big name acts had been booked for the weekend, from the likes of Groove Armada, Damien Rice, New Order, the magnificent Yeah Yeah Yeahs, with human clothes horse Karen O, to Gary Numan, the Gang of Four, Bloc Party, PJ Harvey and Sparks to name but a few.

There was also a chance to catch up with some of the smaller but up-and-coming talents such as the Delorentos and 8Ball – such amusing and talented neighbours - and to see some fine comedy in the international comedy tent - seemingly a big hit with the gardaí. There was even a cinema and a silent disco - yes, silent - you work it out!

As the crowd moved from one act to the next on their itinerary we found ourselves constantly drawn to Lost Vagueness tent with its unique blend of absurdness, with up-tempo sounds such as Dynamo Rhythm Ace and Young Blood Brass Band and burlesque acts including the awesome Empress Stah and the bewitching Lucifire. The tent and bar was constantly packed with a mix of the sartorially elegant and eclectic.

Unfortunately for many, the bad weather was too much to warrant fetching out the evening finery. Nearby we found Cirque Idyllic- unfortunately outdoor- with such bizarreness as a small lady with a large accordion giving a fine rendition of “There was a mouse.. where? there on the stair…” and the Space Cowboy, an absolute fruit cake with a penchant for swallowing, amongst other uncomfortable objects, live fluorescent light tubes. Ouch!

The main acts ended on Sunday night with a great set from Basement Jaxx performing to an enormous crowd in the torrential rain - but no-one seemed to mind. In fact, everyone to whom we spoke was having a brilliant time, in particular, we must mention the "mean-blue-shagging-machine" whose aim appeared to be to add as many notches to his tent post as possible, all night, every night, in a tent no more than two inches from ours!

The next morning we packed up, just narrowly missing the rain, and started our epic journey home. All in all it had been a good weekend apart from the weather, which was no-one’s fault – however decent facilities and licensing would have to be in place to tempt us back next year.

© Mistress Eli & Zee

photo gallery by Zee

in the baby box danish mike b2b carnage; tc b2b slice; trix b2b reckless; malice b2b enzyme; upfront b2b dave skywalker, flipside b2b esp,
nice quick vibe in the tiny room and a comfy setup - tis always nice after serious leg shaking
all surrounded by flashy metallic chains...if you play with them when you’re trashed enough you can really entertain yourself and those around you!

in the bar room rumble b2b slimline; huckleberry finn; rob blake; k-klass; arkoss; billy daniel bunter; danny ward – see happy cheerful crowd ....
in the main box niki dimension b2b flashback & mc strict + mc flow; billy daniel bunter + mc strict; kenny-ken & fearless; nicky blackmarket, at his usual best, playing old skool jungle; ratpack b2b slipmatt (ratt matt) & evenson allen; zinc + mc lurch.
and a room full of ravers havin it large and takin it away on the dance floor...and the speakers!

especially towards the end, when whoever didn’t leave the main room really went crazy till the last tune, which got played around half five (but by that time i really can’t be sure i was seeing the right numbers on my watch anymore..!)

the place wasn’t too packed to dance, which always makes for a better night, and the bar staff was friendly (even though the price of the drinks would make your mama cry)...
smiley faces all over the places, wicked sound and a happy vibe make for sure a good birthday bash.... obviously what everybody was there for!

dr rocket & genie
photo gallery by Genie

A cheap and cheerful Brixton party with groovy peeps, no dickheads and some old-skool geezers from way back in the scene like VJ Emma Funkateer at full stretch. Looking well mellow and sporting a blissful grin every time I passed her by, at the front of the main room. Yes some old heads from the London scene indeed, mingled with the “Klik Klak” regulars to form the nucleus of a pukka party, which mixes Techno with Acid House, deep, and funky House. Also in the mix I stumbled upon some French and German electronica. It never ceases to fascinate me how often I usually tend to pass this music by. Yet I was enthralled by its quality on Sunday. This varied cocktail of rhythmical beats from different sources takes you on a musical journey. A lover of dance music culture, with pedigree, would feel right at home here.

Now there was deep tech in the back room where all the main action could be found. Good, fresh sounding tech. Wow I haven’t said that in a few years! But the applause must go to the Lavelle brothers. James Lavelle, “The man from UNKLE”, still fresh from having performed at “Get loaded” in Clapham Common.
The party had a sort of after-party feel to it throughout. Lyrical banging beats, bouncy all over. Joining James Lavelle, for the first time on the same bill was his younger brother Aidan. The mood was happy, chilled and out there. Good PA overall; some bass distortion at the beginning which didn’t spoil the night.

Aztek had proceedings well under way, in the bar area when I arrived. Well the front room of Jamm, to be exact. An old pub that’s in need of a lick of paint and seems to be earning it’s credentials well in that club cross-over point: “the no man’s land” where mainstream and underground dance cultures meet. Most of the House and eclectic styles were well delivered in this room by the Klik Klak crew. I liked DJ Murf who lived up to his name and murfed it well on the decks. And a Japanese DJ called: “Dog” wasn’t bad either.

I don’t want to use the word “nice” to describe “Klik Klak”. But I cannot find a more appropriate term in this instant. Mind you, that may also have had something to do with the fact it was a last Bank Holiday weekend of the Summer. All I can say is “check it out”; you will not be disappointed, if you’re looking for intelligent banging with a Techno Soul.
©Mufti

An underground feel added to its bohemian if somewhat eccentric ethos: a particular style when it comes to offering an alternative to clubbing in the accepted sense. It works and was long awaited for and it was worth the wait. This is a party where social inter-activeness is the norm. the vibe is friendly and caring.

To a newcomer this may feel disconcerting, as the kindness is genuine. It may appear to hide, behind the smiles, a more sinister agenda but this is soon dispelled as the night settles down between two environments. A main dance room and a low ceiling chill out room with the habitual chai stall and shop.

A tribal feel exist through out. There is no fabrication or subterfuge. Drummers congregate together in groups as if performing ritual while exchanging rhythms. Poi-spinners dance and glide their UV reactive Pois to the grooves of Monkey Pilot who blends classic trance with global beats sprinkled with a large dose of anthems. including Groove Armada's Superstylin' and Banco da Gaia's Last train to Lhassa. The dance room stayed well attended through out the night.

Enriched by several generations, this is a mix of various races, creeds or professions, whether straight or new age in orientation of life style. But what is for sure is that they all hold the same ethos, and are a like-minded in the beliefs they share. There are no limits here. All is permissible. A place you can release inhibitions and leaves you free to meet strangers while expressing yourself freely in a non-judgmental dance arena where sixty year olds glide with arms in the air alongside teenagers, accompanied by their parents who reminisce a not so distant past when they first boogied at Whirly's invitation.

The 25th birthday was highlighted by Toby Marks aka Banco da Gaia who has contributed to the party for many years. Faithfully he returns to acknowledge his roots so to speak and in front of an audience who knows most of his songs by heart. His set started slowly as if in ambient mode. Progressively he increased the tempo. Banco is a fine master of the decks, who plays a mean guitar in some of his concerts; sometimes other musicians accompany him. Even his old material stays fresh in various re-interpreted mixes.

Now with Jack's residency Whirly is busy and well attended. The club unfortunately has a heat problem it needs to sorted out. It affects all parties held there. Jack's needs to rectify this sauna-like effect before someone heads out of the club in an ambulance. Short stints on the dance floor for most of the night was as much as I could suffer. It stretched many others limits too.


"Resurection?" Yes it looks like the "Mother of all parties" is back. Looking young for it's 25 years. This is not a banging party. It has a different expression. It offers a forum for meeting new and challenging people, whose lives are amazing, but who on the other hand appear to be quite sane and well grounded in Babylon's survival game. This is a rave for pagan celebration. For releasing stress in a light hedonistic group to the tribal sounds of trance, Goa and global grooves.
© Le Mufti
Whirl-Y-Gig
Peter Galbavy galleries

Having arrived and been "wrist branded" by the door crew, it was now "donkey time" - and I am not referring to appendages legendary, photoshopped, real or imaginary - I mean the arduous haul of our camping gear to the only remaining “parcellette” of land under the shade of the old oak tree - and, I hasten to add, not a yellow ribbon to tie thereon was to be had anywhere!
Never mind, the ingenuity of folk to mark out their pieds à terre was amazing and a beautiful sight to behold indeed. I made note that things had indeed moved on since the last time I “festied” under a banner that read with all due subtlety: “The MacBastards are over here”.
During the third leg of the trek, with my luminary and guide Shirker Tensing aka Eli at base camp making acquaintances with the new neighbours, the solitude and the heat did, at one point result in my advancing senility becoming a serious cause for concern.

For the route had suddenly disappeared before my very eyes, only to be replaced by a fence of unscalable proportions and a cohort of truly helpful crew, none of whom had even a “waffer theen” idea as to how to conquer the west face of the car park route. So, with the car so teasingly in sight, I pressed on in search of another more scalable route to the summit.
The homestead erected, we relaxed, in the ever-dimming twilight, drinking in the sights and sounds of a beautiful summer’s evening. And it was to be such glorious weather that was to bless us for the entire weekend and mark it as one of those weekends that you look back on during the many dismal, dreary and rain-sodden summers to come, that question the sagacity of the professionalmeteorologist and prove undeniably that summers were always proper summers when we were younger - or at least, less old.
Rar, rar and lashings of ginger beer!

By Friday morning the site was buzzing with anticipation, the sound checks done and with a pow the third Glade festival opened. The fields were awash with colour - from the wonderous decorations to the festival goers, fantasy creatures, clowns, hippies and general wierdos which abounded everywhere. After a loved up visit to the Oxfam shop, Eli tried on an amazing wedding dress, which she simply had to have.

And thus, Eli & I decided to get married. Bridemaids' dresses were purchased, best man found and even a dear friend to give Eli away - thanks Bobbel-Dad! All systems were go for our forthcoming nuptials, Saturday at 1 o'clock. We woke early the next morning with a sense of mounting excitement and for Eli a strong feeling of impending doom.
Was she doing the right thing?
Should she be promising herself to a man who was at best an idiot? She wasn't sure. However, she didn’t listen to that inner voice and this was to be to her detriment later on; her new husband proving to be an idiot by scoring 11 on a scale of 1 - 10.
It must have been the sheer excitement of netting such a catch that caused Eli’s affliction with symmetry to rear its ugly head once more. Legend has it that the mark of the snake on Eli’s left foot was the result of a battle in India with the God of the Careless Barefoot Errant. And having been asymmetrical for a number of years another battle was bound to ensue.

So it was no surprise that a yelp and a scream and a limp later Eli had an equal identical scar on her other foot after an alleged barefoot battle with the God of the Protruding Tent Peg. Of course, Eli claims this as a victorious conflict, but others, including the future bridesmaid were unsure. I of course was sure. For Her Eliness knows my number: I cannot disagree.
With not one moan or grump or grimace or complaint (no, I lie not) we proceeded to have an excellent day wandering around the heavenly venue that is the Glade. For those of you who do not know, Glade is, in my opinion, one of the best festivals I have ever attended. It takes me back to a different era; back to the Panhandle, back to the Haight, back to times when the
future looked bright and certainly not orange.

But this time there was an order, a knowledge, a wiseness to the whole affair. The organisation behind Glade is remarkable and I would like to congratulate the organisers here and now. The layout, décor and amenities are a marvel.


Check out the gallery here and elsewhere on the winky wanky woo for an idea of what to expect. Then factor in the Kozinskiesque Being There factor and the actual experience is multiplied exponentially. Magical paths lit by fairy lights, huge inflatables, totemic wicker statues, heraldic flags and reflective surfaces, amazing stages and sound systems, ultraviolet trees, hanging decorations which abound and mingle with nature and a world that is held together by the most beautiful and eclectic mix of electronic and less-electronic music and a mere twelve thousand or so worshipping pilgrims.

It is the morning of the wedding and we all amass outside the inflatable church. The whole wedding party are there apart from the chief bridesmaid who has been a dirty slapper and stayed up all night. No matter, we press gang a replacement into action and she changes into her outfit outside the church itself.
In all the excitement, what with the additional visit to the onsite medics to tend to Eli’s battle scar - and how excellent were they! - we realise that we have forgotten to book the ceremony.
Fortunately for me, the Reverend Duncan Pritchard makes an exception, and it is not long before Eli has me on my knees, again, with a rope around my neck and I symbolically retrieve the ring from the Best Man and place it upon the bride’s wedding toe.

After a quick photo session, much to the amusement of onlookers, and a drink of most excellent cider and we head over to the Pussy Parlure for our wedding reception. And what a venue to celebrate such a ludicrous occasion.
This 1920's vintage mirrored tent offered a touch of glamour of which even my Aunt Lilly would have approved. One could have easily imagined the whole family entourage embarrassing themselves on the dance floor, strutting their stuff to the funky, jazzy and soulful disco music that was being showcased in this splendid place.
It is early evening and the sun is still scorching the earth. People cling to the shaded areas; any shade. The dust hangs in the air from the to-ing and fro-ing and one could imagine, with ease, being anywhere but this green and lush island. It is still a touch too hot to be inside but that will change as the sun bids us farewell for the evening.
The newly weds retire to the honeymoon tent to prepare the wedding banquet. Despite our generous offers of haute cuisine à la camping gaz, no-one seemed to have an appetite.

Quelle surprise! So we wined and dined and more wined alone, got on our glad rags and ventured out for the night.
We stumbled along the Magic Path towards a musical nirvana. Despite the psychedelic storm emanating from the Liquid Tent, the heat and our curiosity kept us outside and onward moving. Inevitably we succumbed to the allure of the Origin Stage and shaked our booties down to the pumping sounds until fatigue dictated that the very consummation of our marriage was now in question. Yawn! We retired immediately with a cup of cocoa and a copy of "Woman's Weekly". (Editor's note: the next paragraph has been censored).

It is the last day and we are basking in post-nuptial bliss. It is scorching but there is not one sign of irritability on people's faces. We did not sleep well since someone was having an awfully bad experience after, presumably, over indulging on his birthday. In fact, this is the worst I have ever seen anyone and I am not alone. For everyone at our end of the site was up and about wondering what on earth was going on. After a few hours of mayhem and annoyance for sleepers who thought that there was a mere trouble causer onboard all is now quiet. A merrymaker returns as the sun is beginning to light the sky. Unknowingly, he picks up his guitar to bid us good morning with “She’ll be coming round the mountain”. In true “It ain’t half hot mum” style a throng of about 100 tired campers scream out in unison: “SHUT THE F**K UP!!”

He is evidently most surprised, but nonetheless ceases his concerto practice immediately. My beautiful bride awakens and asks if I had a slept well. I simply smile and say, “Yes, of course.” I do not tell her that the inflatable mattress had deflated once again.
Sunday is our last day and the sun is still bleaching the turf as we eat breakfast outside our tent. Little do we know of how the day will unfurl as we plan a rather chilled out day. Even though this is the last main day of the festival the atmosphere is equally as vibrant as the inaugural moment.
We eke out shade, along with other like-minded souls, and end up in the coolest place around, namely the ID Spiral area. Although the music is a bit too chilled for this time of the day, it is a most welcome setting for us tiring newly weds. We listen to some acoustic guitar and some heavenly sweet female vox before the chill becomes more established. We lay around for a while before we decide to take in some live music in the form of Celloman and later on some Gaudi. It seemed such a pity that the sets were not outdoor; the heat of the day forced us once more outside to make rendezvous with some fine chilled apple juice ambrosia. For us, the time to depart is upon us and the ascent of the west ridge to the car park is inevitable.
This moment for me it is to prove too much. With Shirker Tensing once more holding base camp I make several journeys to the car. It is on the last of these journeys that all hell lets lose and the unimaginable happens: I lose the keys to the car which contains almost all our belongings.I scour the entire route for sight of the keys over and over again on my hands and knees; but to no avail. It is getting dark. It is actually getting very cold; the clear skies offer no protection. I go to the Access All Areas lost property tent only to be reassured that the keys, if given in, will be posted on the website in a couple of days. Hmmm…. I am grateful to share this bijou of information but unfortunately this does not solve out predicament. My marriage is now uncertain. Oh dear! We call the car hire firm to be told all will be sorted in an hour… Nine hours later we are cold, in fact we are freezing in our shorts and skirts with only a duvet, straw hats and the wedding bouquet for comfort.
We are mosquito-bitten and, what is worse, we have been openly harangued and mocked by members of the security team less blessed with compassion and brain cells than your average baboon. They really do hassle and taunt, and it is much to the detriment of all the other security guys and gals doing an admirable job. This really leaves us with an unpleasant memory about what has been a most excellent festival. Organisers please make note.

We eventually get back to London, in a taxi. We have no belongings, no clothes and no apologies at all. Hertz hurts indeed. I still cannot believe the inadequacies of such a global brand. We feel exhausted and annoyed but such is the event of Glade that we are still good humoured and talking to each other. My marriage is still safe, thank heavens. All in all, we have had a fantastic weekend and nothing, not even overly obtuse and rude security are going to ruin it.
Roll on Glade 2007!

© Eli Saikadeli & Zee
Glade photo gallery

With the usual shops and eating places, spread over the site and not concentrated together in one block as in Glastonbury, even though the latter were lacking in diversity of choice beyond vegetarian or should I say the mainly vegan offerings.
All this in the beautiful landscape of south Somerset near Yeovil. Glorious weather throughout however the nights at the beginning were particularly cold and I was thankful for hauling my cumbersome but extremely comfortable padded hippy coat. So the stage was set out for one of the most pleasant festivals I can remember enjoying in recent years.

We arrived on Thursday by car… A double-decker bus shuttle service had been provided from Yeovil station for the pedestrians. For some strange reason the designers of the site had placed the campsite and car park astride the main festival site, necessitating an exhausting walk in the sun drenched afternoon, while the sky above our heads was a clear and dazzling blue, without any ominous clouds in the distance.
So a horse and cart service busied itself moving the new arrivals and their cumbersome gear across the wide expanse of fields that lay ahead of us, as we held on hoping not to fall off over the bumps and gashes on the ground.

The horses sweated in the heat. Added to this was an excruciating background aroma of a muck-spreading facility near by. What a pong indeed! And up went a village of tents over following days as Sunrise geared into action.
As the first night came to a close, we learnt that the festival hadn’t sold out. To be honest this whole expanse of countryside looked like being designed for more than the projected 5000 paying guests. Subsequently, we were informed that 8000 had been estimated to be there by Saturday, but there were only 3000 who had actually paid to attend.
This was discovered, to the gasps and groans of some of afore mentioned guests seeing the statement sign-posted above the bar at ID Spiral. I must add here that in general we all sympathised with the plight of the festival organisers.

The worst was that they had admitted to a deficit of £40.000. And had thus declared themselves bankrupt as of the Saturday…donations were apparently requested, to the obvious annoyance of many present, and I’m sure that their idea of a whip-round fell mostly on death ears to compound matters even further!
In fact by the Monday evening, I learnt in the crew area, that the un-paid security team had left the site; that the loos had ceased to be emptied and cleaned, which caused unpleasantness indeed to all; Yes sir!
Fears were growing also in the rumour factory on site that a load of acts, scheduled for the Solstice night, would fail to appear as billed especially “Eat static”.
But that aside it didn’t stop the festy and Eatstatic performed in their usual “full-throttle” show; where prog-rock meets intelligent techno, with a soupcons of psy-trance creeping in to new treatments of old classics and in their new material as well.

For me the highlight of the festival was definitely Dreadzone on Saturday night. The best performance of this band I have witnessed in the past five years and I see them every year. Mc Spee informed a delighted crowd that they would feature on a forthcoming live album being recorded that night. Unfortunately their set was cut short by poor organisation, which overran the schedule. It was dreadful considering it affected the headline act. But I’m biased!
I have to also mention here Banco de Gaia’s set, which he delivered at a high-octane level. Really pumping! With some dark and dirty mixes, that curled the hairs on the back of my neck. Fantastic. He never disappoints because he always takes his audience into uncharted musical territory. You cannot predict what comes next apart from “Last train to Lhassa” which is regularly includes in his set. From time to time it is performed with the use of live acoustic instruments, sorry but I cannot recall details.

Before him Gaudi had serenaded us to a fine set: well banging out reggae, dub and trance styles mixing into an absorbing cocktail of uplifting music that had most of us jigging along as you just couldn’t stop dancing.
All sorts of facilities (too many to mention here) were on offer. The sauna was particularly popular as an effective means of de-crusting the old layers of dirt and sweat and there were also some paying showers for the festy lightweights! A children’s environment, was equipped with small-scale toilets, tables and chairs surrounded by and supplied with various entertainments for the little horrors.
And it was a pleasure to watch and experience them, free of constraints, running around the site to their heart’s content. I was impressed too by their brightly coloured hippy clothes and funky styles.

They were blowing up a full-scale bouncy-castle church as you entered the main site from the car park and it was busy with alternative weddings and sharing of vows during the weekend; hilarious as the spire persistently insisted on staying horizontal to the amusement of all. It’s those little things that always make it for me. The quirky stuff is the food of memories. There was also a section by the entrance for the campaigns and protest groups which I didn’t visit as I only discovered it on the last day on a rare visit to the car park so I cannot report on it and wasn’t aware that any of my friends had either.

ID Spiral provided the main chill-out area on the vast expanse of green that formed the middle of the site with all the marquees, stage areas and themed areas bordering its edge all around. Le Mufti been strangely confused from day into night or vice versa, inventing his way around, which led to many pleasant discoveries and new adventures each day. ID Spiral’s main feature was a geodesic dome where the DJ section was located and it served up an eclectic mix of chilled grooves ranging from the Beatles to worldly grooves, light trance and electronica amongst its many varied styles.

Whirl-Y-Gig provided the night time party, on the opening day and on the Solstice night; finishing with the usual undulating parachute sit-down to Monkey Pilot’s gliding musical mixes. Their crew did a grand job on a marquee that really wasn’t big enough I felt, to accommodate all those present. But with thirteen environments to choose from it managed to work.
Amongst these was this beautiful marquee in Indian Rajah-style, whose red and green-stripped interior laid host to acoustic and chill DJ sets and provided a friendly chill-out space with a small bar during the day.
The Small World and the Galactic stages both located inside marquees were other special places where we listened to poetry, speakers on various spiritual based subjects and acoustic sets. There was a place that had, as it’s central feature, an exquisite Vedantic carving of exceptional quality.

Its base was adorned with enormous quarts crystals that lay in a circle around it. You could sit alongside them and experience their beauty. This tent was a wonderful place indeed. It was busy with healers and the odd sleeping casualty!
Finally, I must make an observation about the loos that were scattered around the festival site. Special wooden loo blocks with sawdust had been erected. Sections of bales had been provided for the men to pee on.
These more ecological alternatives were by far more comfortable than the grim “portaloos”, even though I admit that I experienced the latter when they were clean and unblocked… well that’s at least until Tuesday came around!

In hindsight what made this festie so successful, was the overall and collective vibe shared by all the people in this extended hippy tribe; without any of the external influences or pissed- heads to mar the proceedings.
Hardly any theft was reported, apart from a few break-ins in the car park but nothing major. A wonderful spirit of generosity transcended these halcyon days in Somerset and I hope that the bankruptcy will not stop this happening again next year, as I will be amongst the first to get a ticket.

©Le Mufti

more photo galleries from festi

The 414 proved to be the perfect premises to recommence Implosian’s growing success and popularity. It provided a more intimate and vibrant bank holiday option as one of Brixton’s best smaller venues. They’re onto a winner in that place since the crowds these days seem to be shying away from the larger packed out venues.

(£20 and an hour wait to get in plus 3 hour wait for your coat to get out after losing all your mates is starting to wear thin on many)
It’s these smaller venues that are bringing back the vibe to a few hundred patrons that can easily go over the heads of a few thousand. The pleasant atmosphere, drink prices on planet earth and the respectful and polite security win us over every time.

This approach and Implosian’s wicked, progressing Psy-Trance kept everybody on their dancing toes. It spanned through various levels of excitement: Cheeky and charming to the mystical and pure driving mayhem experienced in the later hours. It offered an ongoing, excellent vibe from start to finish.

The comfy couches plonked around were little havens for chatting and relaxing and especially useful for those who attended the full 12 hours. Upstairs people were treated to a giant screen emitting visuals and footage from psychedelic trance festivals of the past giving insight into the prestigious Glade festival and a wild looking event in Japan that included some fanciful looking Japanese characters.

The temperature drop upstairs was extreme seeing as the dance floor was on fire. During the more summery summer months that probably won’t be such an issue with cold wind blowing through the vents but it seemed real chilly at the time.


That aside it seems that nothing could spoil the beginnings of a beautiful new relationship blossoming in Brixton that night and hopefully Implosion at the 414 will enjoy much of the same innovating entertainment for the exploding (or is that imploding?) Psytrance Trade.

©Psymon

more picks from the night

This must be one of the most surreal evenings I can remember. Just being in the west End for a Psy Trance party is a weird experience, far from the usual “south of the river” dives often found under railway arches. So a change of scenery…new and exciting if somewhat perplexing.

Now, why oh why - would the Connaught Rooms lend themselves to such an event? And open their plush carpeted and icing caked conference rooms to a bunch of hardcore hedonists coming for the most part from an underground social scene is beyond my comprehension.
Someone remarked that the place was “so posh” it felt as if you had to be respectful of the environment and seek an ashtray; while later in the night, another punter mused that the carpet-cleaning bill alone was going to be excessive…and as the night went on and the peeps got more mashed the place got more trashed!

Big old rooms; with very high ornamented ceilings in stucco with projector lights gliding their coloured effects across those wide expanses; minimal décor throughout. Well, a lack of décor: the odd backdrop here and there, but yet hardly visible in such palatial surroundings. The best visual effect was by far the large VJ screen at the back of the DJ station in the main psy room.

Entering the “venue” felt like you were entering the lobby of a five star hotel. Made me think of the Monte-Carlo casino. The staff in their liveried uniforms lined up at the entrance while the security were the most fashion conscious and chic geezers I have seen in ages, yeah a far cry from Brixton. I had to pinch myself! “Yes we are in the West End and it is another dimension with different rules”.

Progressively as the night settled in, the party took over these beautiful rooms. The rave dynamic transcended with all the usual baggage we can associate with the Acid Monkey regulars, who for the most part missed being at Jack’s but warmed to the challenge of a new environment.
The main room had a polished wooden dance floor in a sea of carpet. So a ballroom had become in effect a psy trance powerhouse with the likes of Carlos Santan: superb as dreadlocked devil’s advocate of the decks.

Astralex and Arvino amongst the highlights of a fine spread of psy-revelry and a crowd of dancers, immersed within the music’s tapestry, merged as one force. Yep, it’s well healthy this scene compared to other genres and very well attended.

The chill out space consisted of two rooms. A side room with several treatment beds reserved for healing where the best chillin’ could be found. The main chill-out was more banging and geared for dancing. The tempo was quite full on, offering a mix of styles, which didn’t grab me that much, even though better attended in the latter part of the night. After all, the main focus of such a party is the psy trance!

Poor ventilation throughout, but these conference rooms were never designed for clubbing; so all the complaints about the heat I took with a pinch of salt. Jack’s was never brilliant either on that front! So it goes with the course and when the music is that thumping and that mesmerising you cannot leave the dance floor: it’s that good. So loads of sweat and merriment was shared by all present.

So as weirdness goes will it be the Masonic temple next time? or maybe the Queen will rent Buck House for the next instalment, you never know, so watch this space!

©Mufti

photo gallery

Acid Monkey @ Jacks
more photos
Acid Monkey site

Realizing my mashed-up, partying ways wouldn't last long in the local climate, I started looking outside the city. That’s how I almost accidentally discovered that Julian Liberator and Lenny Dee were coming to town while surfing a Montreal rave website. By that point, I'd been in Ottawa nearly 4 months and my memories of London's party scene had started to take on an almost mythical sheen; its array of DJ's and clubs a kind of promised land beckoning from across the Atlantic divide. In other words, good timing for a Liberator to show up (even before you consider they only play here every 2 - 3 years!)

I must have been the first person in line for a ticket, a move unprecedented in my life (buying a ticket, I mean). Before I could open my purse though, the shop clerk, glancing at the flyer in my hand, stopped me.
"We haven't got any tickets for that," he said. Panic gripped me.
"You're sold out? Already?"
"Oh no," he chuckled, as if I’d made a joke, "they haven't even been delivered yet."
"Not delivered the tickets? But.... it's only 17 days from now!!" His expression changed from one of amusement to one of pity, mingled with concern and he suggested trying back next week.
If you're thinking by now that any techno night in Ottawa would've been like a drop of rain in the desert, you're right. But luckily Industrial Strength wasn't 'any' techno night….

17 days later:

The crowd of alternative types hanging out by the venue door looked promising, 'til I heard the punk music coming from inside and realized there was a gig on. After checking that I did have the right place, I grabbed a drink to soothe my nerves and sat down to wait for the Industrial Strength crew to come & take over.

The venue wasn't club per se; it more looked like a biker bar that had stumbled acros an all night rave license: ad-hoc. That, combined with smoke, booze and great tunes, meant the distinctions between Canada and UK tended to blur as the night wore on. This was good.
The first DJ, EXT, revved us up with speedy beats for around an hour, mixing tunes in a just-sketchy enuf style which was faithful to their squat party origins.
At some point, Julian took over from him and reduced the tempo to an earthier level. Beats deepened, breaks segued into reflective head trips. It was tempting to join the other dancers for a sit down but, knowing this was a one-off, I wasn't giving in so easily!
Whether you were sitting or standing, Julian’s music enclosed you in its electronic sketches. Was it being made live or just recorded to sound that way? I wasn’t sure. Whatever the case, all the chopping and changing between styles – break-beat, funk, techno, experimental - gave it a live feel. Unlike the traditional 4/4 tekno beat, which can hold you indefinitely with its constant state, Julian’s exploratory, ever-tweaking EQ was grounded in real time.

Underpinning all the tracks was a persistent energy, linking them like points on some sort of personal spectrum. It reverberated under our feet, edging more and more people onto the dancefloor as it grew. Once it had us right where it wanted us, the playful, acid tangents dancing through it abruptly fell away, leaving us in the middle of a serious belter. My legs ached at the memory for days afterwards.
This is just an taste of the 2 or more hour set was like. For most of it I was tuned out of any world but the familiar, aural one of techno, so I've only written what I noticed in the breaks where I paused long enuf to think.
Lenny Dee got up there next and did his damndest to keep us moving, but I found him exhausting to watch. He didn’t stop - dancing, chatting, running errands, etc, all while playing a set. I kept thinking, this man needs a double of himself. But it was very entertaining to watch someone who so perfectly embodies his music's restless, gregarious energy.
Though it was a small night in a small town, the 3 DJ's I saw (I missed the 4th one) combined to deliver in compact enough energy and creativity to revive my party-parched life. I'd like to thank them for it, regardless of what my legs say!
Alexia

more on Industrial Records

My friend G, and me arrived about midnight and headed for the D&B room, tucked away in the furthest reaches of the place, and got straight into the jump-up upfront Junglist sound coming from those powerful speakers. The people in there were an assortment of happy individuals; some dancing like crazy, and a lot of them living proof that the much-maligned hoodies can be worn by decent human beings.

The first DJ whose name I remember, A-symetric, began her set playing hip hop back to back with dark D&B, a selection that was a bit too eclectic for me at that time of night. Time to hit the bar. When we returned, her set had settled down into a nice tight mix of dirty, dark-ish tracks with a happy, bouncy edge to them. Result. The guy on after her, JNK (pronounced Jenky), played basslines so filthy, they should have called up Rentokil. There was one track in particular that got me: JB featuring Benny Blanco. He also played a great mix of the theme tune from Pulp Fiction.

All the drum & bass DJ’s played the latest, most upfront stuff – I don’t reckon any track played was more than 5 years old. Even Devious D deviated (sorry!) from his usual old skool style. Also, I don’t know if it was my imagination, but I’m sure the sub bass kicked in progressively deeper and stronger throughout the night.

Got chatting to this couple who’d been for a wander “Go to the acid techno room- it’s fuckin’ excellent in there”

They were right. There was a room full of ravers really going for it. And some brilliant lasers. I got right into the vocal samples and hypnotic tribal rhythms played by Anphibian. After him, Mark Axel really vibed up the crowd mixing Donna Summer’s ‘I Feel Love’ with a twisted techno track. Meanwhile, Grooverider, was playing in the D&B room, and I was seriously torn over whether to watch him or Chris Liberator. Right after Axel had finished, I dashed back to catch the start of Grooverider’s set. He was excellent as usual, but I’ve seen him play a lot of times, and never seen Chris Liberator, so that’s what swung it for me. Hey, what a position to be in-I’ve not been to many parties, where I’ve had to make such hard musical decisions!

So, back in the acid techno arch, it had to be. And that is where I stayed for the rest of the night. DJ and producer, Chris Liberator was on: he lip-synched and mimed like a crazed actor over the vocal bits of his own records, in front of the most surreal and trippy projections. He also mashed up a helluva lot of Jello Biafra’s’ ‘lyrics, from his Spoken Word albums with some acid-tech madness. This guy’s been around for ages on the radical edge of the dance scene, and it was undoubtedly one of the best sets I’ve ever heard or seen in 15 years of raving. Go see him if you get the chance.

That night, there was excellent music, top-notch production, and friendly people. The only negative was that, apart from the acid techno room, there weren’t that many people around. Certainly the awesome set by UK techno pioneer DAVE the Drummer deserved a much bigger audience.
Not that this bothered the manic dancers in the drum & bass room, who actually seemed to appreciate having more space with which to fling their arms and legs around. And not one of the DJ’s in there was too cool to get down and dance to each others’ sets, especially when Grooverider came on.

G and me left after Chris Liberator finished. Tired, but happy, we made our way to the station where a solitary taxi waited to take us home. It had been a good night, and I’m definitely going back there again. For real.

Minnie Mouse

The omens were bad. As a serial attender of the Synergy Project, the queues outside didn't seem as heaving as usual. Doors opened late as ever, so I did a Sudoku grid -- very rock and roll! It helped distract me from a blagger waiting in front from the Campaign Against Climate Change. He was bringing a whole new definition to the term annoying. CACC indeed...

Finally we got in! I walked past the blagger, looking plaintive with a £20 note in his hand as his scam to get in free had failed. Usually I get shepherded past the security - last time I was literally pushed into the club by Dominic Spiral exclaiming 'He's with me! He's with me!' This was my first experience as a punter (don't weep - my name was on the guest list) so I got the full treatment from security - patted down, asked to open my shoulder bag and the bum bag with the camera in it. Then something strange happened.
The security said he was sorry if he seemed at all rude for wanting to search me. Quite a marked contrast to the very first Synergy where the security were confrontational. So SeOne are doing a good job there. Once inside, it emerged that the back part of the club was closed due to a fire. So we were restricted to four rooms. I think this saved the party, as the seemingly reduced turnout managed to fill out the remaining space.

The trance room was put on by Fairy Tales. The Mullah last danced to trance sometime last century so is ill qualified to judge. But people certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves and there was a better atmosphere than previous rooms I'd seen from other promoters.

Small World were doing a live bands room, which had some superb acts like the energetic Orchid Star and festival favourites Los Albertos with their brand of ska that can't fail to make you dance. DJ Pony had whipped the crowd into a frenzy with a corking funk set, so when Los Albertos came on the room went wild. The Mullah was suffering from flu, so could only manage to dance for half a song - but this is indicative of nothing.
Small World really know how to put on a good show.

The educational element of the event was provided by the Synergy Centre, who put on a panel of experts to talk about climate change - a hot topic, literally and metaphorically. It was fascinating to see so many people sitting down and patiently listening to the speakers give presentations with the aid of a video projector. The Mullah was worked up about climate change when he was barely out of nappies, so they were preaching to the converted in my case. But the rapt faces around me demonstrated that for many this was revelatory stuff.
A classroom atmosphere was also engendered by the life drawing class going on. It's quire remarkable to see so many people with easels in a nightclub drawing at 2am. This is a trend I would like to see continue, imagine the possibilites. That's what I call a night class!




But my favourite lesson was science - renewable energy to be exact. Very appropriate given the climate change talks. I am talking about a wonderful stall that had blenders powered by bicycle generators serving fresh fruit smoothies! A lovely couple had brought frozen fruit which they blended with juice - all powered by clubbers pedalling like mad. Delicious and exactly what the doctor ordered.

If only school had been more like this...I might have paid attention!

I was fascinated by the fact that they seemed more concerned in protecting the party from “dodgy outsiders” and rogue impatient cab drivers from the front door than policing the punters within. So, hats off! to whoever instigated that policy; that ethos. And the reward was a pleasant night in Brixton without the stress of impending piss-heads; strange creatures bearing ersatz candies at inflated prices…and the like. A re-launch party for Transient and Automatic Records and I wish them all the best at this time of rebirth and it’s was well worth the effort, as this was a night for good and innovative DJ sets and new unheard material.

The main room was vibrant and busy all the way through the night with a constant turn over of dancers and surfers. The walls togged out in large alchemical backdrops; rich in sacred geometry and symbolism, with all the fusion of colours and styles associated with psy trance but without that “mechanical” and or computerised “techy” style you often find in psy parties. I like the simplicity of expression with the no nonsense banging lighting systems: straight and doing its job: acting on cue to the music. Nothing more, no less

We danced through nearly all of Phil Chichime’s set and a good part of Kristian’s set practically without interruption. Well the odd fag’n’smoke break on the side. A very good show, which lifted all present; reaching into new territories of psy-internal expression. Loads of new material, some slightly older stuff.The Dream Machine took us down the progressive path. A kind of style, which doesn’t surprise at all! when you have Eatstatic and the Ozrics Tentacles manning the decks. Some felt it was too “prog” yet it was enough to keep most people focused and wanting more challenging sounds. They stretched perceptions. They issued new challenges to the trance scene which, these days seems tired and in need of an ashram to recharge the batteries, you know; a time out.

Psy Trance, on the other hand, judging by the whole vibe in that main room was much more creative and healthy. Yeah, going places. Some unexpected backing tracks could be heard in the chill-out area. We concurred that the highlight there was Tripswitch who gave us intelligent electro and gliding landscapes to fly over and kept us afloat when all were sinking with tiredness late in the night.

Zub Zub aka Ozric’s bass player: Zia Geelani, merged his own material with some interesting old classics, like Groove Armada’s “Superstyling” or Ye ke ke or Dub, which had my girlfriend in rapturous “whirling dervish” mode, twirling on the spot and providing entertainment for the tired and chilled out dancers, friends and lovers who sat around the small DJ station. All in all: a good night, reasonably well attended. A good crew of decent ravers and an excellent and well chosen line up. What more can I say?

Le Mufti

Images by Webgrrl Designs

Not a lot of people there at first, so time to hit the bar. I’d recommend one of their tomato juices, with lime and chilli. There were two bands on that night; Princess Superstar and her support band, the Loose Cannons. The bar area emptied once the gig was on and everyone flocked into the main room to see them.

The Loose Cannons were a rocky outfit comprising of a scary lead singer a young guy with a black lightning streak painted onto his short blond hair, a spiky eyebrow piercing, those twat-style trousers that go half way down the leg, with underpants showing on top, and a scarlet fake fur jacket. He was very loud and demanding, and I kept avoiding his eyes. There were two very pretty girl backing singers, a guitarist, and a Bob Hope lookalike DJ with trilby, pipe, shirt and braces. Music was mostly quite rocky; lots of guitar riffs with hip hop influences. They did their best number, a hard house style tune called ‘I’m Not Listening’, towards the end of their set. They didn’t get an encore. Maybe everyone else was scared of the singer too.

Princess Superstar’s live show is a true piece of theatre: There are costume changes for almost every song; lots of film projections; lots of interaction between her, and her backing band, as well as with the crowd. Her whole show evolved around her new album ‘My Machine’, which is about an egomaniac star, who, in a quest for world fame, has thousands of clones made of herself, with the clones eventually rebelling and taking over.
She strides onstage, a blonde, pretty, 30-something woman spitting lyrics like “Nothing worse than a smoker who’s quit, but you smell like shit!!”
As well as songs from her new album, she also did some older stuff such as ‘Bad Babysitter’ about a girl who shags her boyfriend in the house where she’s supposed to be looking after a kid. She’s dressed as a cheerleader for this number. End that song, she leaves the stage, while we look at film of clones marching. Soon, the Princess returns onstage dressed in thigh boots, shorts, little skimpy top thing, and brandishing a whip.
I think I’m the only female at the front. All around me are young men photographing her. Unfortunately I’d left my camera battery charging – doh!

She goes through several more costume changes, all outfits quite whore-like.
I loved her ‘Up Yours’ attitude.
I actually like Superstar’s show more than her music, which is sometimes too American-High-School-rock for my liking. Still, when she does do hip hop style, she does it well, with a powerful grittiness, and her whole approach is very original, and a refreshing change from the usual gangster bullshit.

Minnie Mouse

For more info check www.princesssuperstar.com

They’d come to see some live bands and groove to the beats of DJ Healer Selecta, who also runs the night.
He played a very eclectic set; ska, reggae, motown, country, and proper, original R&B. No beat mixing, but he was indeed, a good Selecta.
First live act was Mara Celia, a Brazilian lady, whose uplifting vocals were backed up with a band playing jazz, salsa, soul, with a punky flava. She was promoting her album ‘Bastardista’, which is good, but not as good as her live show.

Bit more from Mr Selecta, then the 2nd band, Eroko Percussions. This lot were fantastic, especially when they played the faster hard House rhythms, as well as traditional African ‘talking drum’ beats. Excellent.

My friend and I liked it so much we returned for more on the 20th Nov. I brought my mum as well, ‘cos I knew she’d love it. This time, though, music was more total-mash-up than world beats.
Healer Selecta was back on the decks playing between the live acts. His set started off in a Motown style, then, as time went by, the bass cranked up and he got into old skool Jamaican dancehall sounds, and fast dub rhythms. I got lost in the music dancing to tracks by Nuban, U-Roy, and Dennis Brown.
Someone who definitely had his Weetabix that morning was Casa Novo Electro; a very energetic guy who played electro dance music, using gadgetry from a suitcase. His tunes were fun disco pop, silly sing-a-long lyrics while wearing even sillier glasses.
He’d jump on and off stage, wave sparklers around, and do some damn good breakdancing. For some reason, he reminded me of Elvis Presley.
Exit Mr Novo, and half hour or so later, after a few funky Motown tracks from the Selecta, a rather boring band came on fronted by a pleasant Irish lady. My friend loved them, but romantic songs of broken hearts, that you can’t move to don’t really belong in the main room of a club, in my opinion. At least her onstage patter was a bit engaging. “Hey, move closer, you’re making me paranoid”

Luckily the final act, a funky, gutsy, and highly original indie rock band called The Brothers, came to my rescue. This lot are new to the scene, and haven’t even put a CD out yet, but I’d lay money on them making it big.

Their sound is a crossover between guitar-fused funk, rock-pop melodies, and solid dancefloor beats. And they could relate to the crowd. The singer was eminently watchable, despite wearing those stupid baggy jeans that go half way down the leg, with underpants showing over the top. Why do people wear those things?!

Raison D’etre is a real mixed bag of musical styles; you pays your money, you takes your chance –you’ll usually find some good stuff in there.
It happens every month. 5pm – midnight.
For info on next party check: www.reason2b.net

Minnie Mouse

But well creepy! so if you are meeting your girlfriends there, I suggest you pick her up at the station first to avoid the usual sour face situation later.






We wandered into a little oasis of Psy-Trance culture as we stepped into a club that has two main rooms separated by a connecting, twisting and turning staircase carved out of the masonry like an after thought. Upstairs is the main arch where the action was to be found. It’s big enough to accommodate about 300/400 punters at a guess.
The downstairs was sort of decked in a few old fabrics near the back area where a small bar and chai station was situated, serving up an assortment of cakes. The date cake is particularly recommended to future globetrotting travellers…hmm-nice one! Also there was some chai on offer to stimulate the palate. Miaow!

Every one involved in this event, as well as the security, were charming and there were echoes of Natural Order to be found here with the same set of “hardcore yet chilled out “psy-trancers” that I could trace back over five years if not more.
Zen Mechanics was the lord of the dance floor with a brand of roller-coaster psy that was exhilarating and great fun. And so was Bliss, who got the thumbs up from every one I chilled with after. You have fans mate; and I agree: You rock!

I’d like to also mention DJ Marko who blended a form of industrialised-techno with touches of acid into his psy-trance which I wondered if others had noticed, yet every one was so into their dancing that the quality of his set kept people glued into other dimensions where my words cannot reach, and that goes for most of the DJs there on the night.

Incredibly, the place danced itself into the late hours of the morning and finally died at noon. Downstairs, it reminded me of a really good squat party without the assholes to ruin the night. If you like Psy-Trance, with an underground feel, then yes! this is definitely the place for you.
As an old anarchist wild child, I totally felt at ease in this party, where freedom of _expression and decent behaviour was the norm. Cool people, who know their stuff, and street-wise dudes with a smile, that it was a pleasure to be part of such a psychedelic gathering.

Le Mufti

Loose ramblings by Jam Gorilla

I have been going to Happy Jacks, Club Innocence now Jack’s since 1998 and it was a scary venue then. Security there once effortlessly rivalled the infamous Bagleys or Chunnel Club gorillas for the title of the most ruthless and aggressive on the scene. Quite a feat must say.

It was then, now it is a different place but somehow shrunk in the process.
I do vividly remember some Rude not… or Omnipotence parties in spacious 3 rooms.

It would get Einstein or Planck rubbing their eyes in confusion. Ignore the shrinkage though as change is for the better and different space continuum rules apply. Will crack a boson for that ability of going through the walls but Jacks offers now an atmosphere one could only have found in Trenz or 266 in a distant past.

Stir some of the most visual effects on da silver screen and pukka crowd with steady flow of kicking Goa and affiliates and you get Pukka label launch. How coincidental?
That’s my 3 pence but next time will bring tripod in my pocket for a bangin’ night out.
Cab is waiting, aloha…

more photos here

more on Acid Monkey

Their massive night at Koko on 8th of October, co-organised with Epidemik crew, hardcore ravers brothers legend on the scene, was a good one cos they are sometimes big ones and they are very bad. But this one was a night of kick ass drum n bass. Nuff said.
The venue was ass kicking too. Large and not too packed first and not too many “gangsta lot, you know who,…
Crowd were friendly but there was a bit of attitude at the start but later they mellowed out and were good and happy as new.
Mcs were pretty amazing with some tongues dancing skill, worth the price of ticket, what a balloon, whachaaa…It was kinda empty first but later got totally rammed.
Humans rolling and twisting everywhere, on balconies, downstairs or upstairs where Epidemik crew ruled with da moody liquid rollers. Yessssssss…

Yet somehow we couldn’t get the feel of bass rushing around till about 2 when all of the sudden I got grabbed by it and flung to the Mcs feet where mystical forces took over my hips. (I wasn’t the only ‘transformed‘ person around).
Lotsa crazy, steamy dudes jumping around me all night long. What!… All the big epics got played till a total crowding of the stage with Nicky Blackmarket. Yes sir!. I am in love but don’t tell anyone or don’t write please…. He played really well and smiled through his set.
What a girl can do?

Later I kinda of found it difficult to gather infos while I am having a bunch of scientist playing on my ears. Cos they are things you should do when time is flowing around you in a spirited way. So I just didn’t fight and stayed bouncing till morning light in the best ever lab: nice one.! A hot, steamy and reacting concoction of sexy human jumping beings, must go to the next one, But if you want to be there for the next one you better start stressing the living out of whoever finances your leisure time.

Cloakroom £2 for single item and water bottles being sold with caps off. Whachaa…
Are they taking mickey or what?
Great party and great vibe, just do something about it stupid!
Check in advance


Dr Rocket

more photos click here

www.breakinscience.com
www.epidemik.com

The album launch of “Ambivalent Records” commenced under friendly, capable and sometimes chaotic but always smiling collaboration of new kids on the block: “Elluminate”. Here was the nascent embryo of a new kind of Psy-Trance party, dishing out a light electronic salad of robotic riffs and effects. Acid grooves that teased and stirred the senses of the assembled.
The beat staying consistent, strong, without that heavy thump-thump that often distorts the mix into one continuous drone. Where all the tracks merge into an inaudible, repetitive banging set without reference to the originality of each track being defined for its own sake.

There has recently been structural changes to the to the lay out of the Arches. This club seems genuinely ambitious and concerned in improving it’s facilities with embellishments that have seen the third arch there loose it’s DJ station at ground level for a newer and elevated gantry where DJs can now follow from above the action in a space freed from impediments.
But the arch that rocked the best, on the night, was the one that showcased, in live performance, the three main acts of Ambivalent’s emerging stable: NRS, Scorb and Deviant Species. The latter started proceedings by cranking up the gears as he came to the decks.
Then the night just rocketed into the stratosphere: higher and higher.
Well from midnight onwards as more peeps came through the door; filling what had been for the first couple of hours a relatively unattended party. It’s as if this crew knew when to arrive! So the music being exhibited, so to speak, was in place and the Arches came alive with people expressing themselves in kindness and with a collective generosity that I was well pleased to discover.

Scorb pushed the art of effects, loops and samples that bounced off the walls, whizzed and cajoled the punters into a healthy sweat as the lights and multi-coloured lasers did the rest. To be fair, Carrie and the Elluminate crew they did a grand job for a first outing. The place was well decked-out in backdrops. The main room’s focus was an enormous screen on which were projected discordant computerized images that didn’t detract from the music.

The champagne moment was these two guys who decided to show their juggling prowess with cushions pads that had loads of us in stitches. Wicked! While the lighter, yet also experimental music being delivered, in the other arch, carried on regardless to an often semi-empty room. Special mention to: Carlos, who needed more peeps, to dejay to, but this was indeed a busy night for a launch in London Bridge, with Synergy giving it large down the road. But who cares with Elluminate on the horizon. They will be back for another party on the 5th November so keep your ears to the psy-trance grind stone as the venue awaits to be announced.

Le Mufti

It's now becoming, or should I say, evolving into a forum for lovers of that brand of "old-style" partying: where the people interact via the music on the dance floor. And there is plenty of choice on offer.

There are no pretty pictures on the walls or funny light fittings distracting your attention, as the entertainment is the vibe. It is also the mix of peeps from all over this big estate called Dance-Culture, who are well up for a good rave with no pretensions to hold them back and shit loads of positive attitude; whether they be Chavs or Hardcore geeks or travelling out of town posses out in the big smoke for some Old Skool interaction.
The hardcore was already very busy when I arrived around 11.30. The sweat factor was beyond human...it's tough and I cannot say that I hanged around there for that long, as I go mostly for Old Skool, D'n'B and old-style reminiscing and serious dancing!

Mc's Ice and Strict were at the helm in the main room and the atmosphere was sizzling nicely, reaching its climax with “The RatPack” who rocked the old tunes with an audience sing-along to rival any good rock gig. They treated us to a birthday selection of medleys. Raindance regulars know all those songs by heart and give them their best body moves, whistles hoots and horns. Voices shouted and chanted all through their set accompanied by some really fit babes in Ibiza “razzle” bikinis, who entertained us all the way with their dancing routines. Now, how many of you guys in the crowd actually noticed that they were choreographed?
Hmm, I wonder indeed!

Special mention to Billy Bunter and especially Flashback for making me dance my tits off as we prepared for the Pack.
I really enjoyed the pleasure of some old fashioned House and a sprinkling of late 80’s anthems in the Jenkins Lane room.
Expert scratching and mixing by Nikki Dimension after a wobbly change over that didn’t really fuse with the previous DJ: Jack Bass: arguably, one of the best DJs, that night. But criticism aside, Nikki then geared himself into action; and the ride was awesome.
I wonder how many saw themselves in the films of previous parties that were being projected on two huge screens at the end of that room?
I got nudged "Hey your on!"

In the Deep Blue Arches was the Break Beat crew and every time I was there, to feast on some more nitrous oxide with my mate.
We followed those who seemed to have pitched their tent there for the duration and I don’t blame them the music was uplifting, funny, quirky and as fluffy as you can get at this party.
Drum and Bass, my usual hang out at Raindance, with Nicky Blackmarket playing that night, as one of the highlights, was sort of forgotten during the night, as there were other arches pulling me away…Err, sorry guys!

So many temptations and babes to chase and blah, blah.. with, while desperately trying to remember their names…well, you know.

3 words to sum it all up:

Raindance!... keep coming!

Le Mufti

Photos courtesy of:

bornhardcore

Vinyl Vera

We arrived on a gloriously sunny Friday afternoon to a well organised entrance with no queues and no attitude. This was such a very pleasant change from the usual hanging around to get to the gate. Straight into the camping area and up with the tents and gazebo. Fab, that was easy!

Lost Vagueness is at the very height of British middle-class eccentricity. A ballroom and bar equipped with champers, spirits and classy cocktails, not a beer in sight here. None of the usual trance orientated dance music for this lot.

The music ranged from 40s swing to up to date beats, every act so vastly different from the last. Where else in festival land would you shake your stuff to a Rajasthani wedding band? The Jaipur Kawa Brass Band certainly took me back to the land of the fakirs and I was surprised not to see camels waiting on the horizon.
Other musical extravaganzas included the Young Blood Brass Band (traditional brass sounds fused with a mix of jazz and hip hop) and the Priscillas (high kicking rock antics in PVC!).

Also on offer is the casino, provided that you are dressed appropriately, jeans and trainers just will not do! Blackjack, craps, roulette, whatever is your gambling favourite, all represented here. Purchase your tokens and gamble away whilst watching such astounding acts which ranged from Roxy the seriously sexy pole dancer; the astounding trapezes of the Swinging Elvises to magnificent Lucifire, a Torture Garden regular, with her amazing fire act.

By 1am on Saturday morning, the vicar was on stage, surrounded by the very naughty nuns. It must be time for a mass wedding. Amazingly there were brides everywhere, dressed appropriately with white dresses and veils and those were just the guys! A few minutes later and the vicar had declared the ceremony over and the happy couples were free to celebrate their nuptials in a marriage guaranteed to last at least a day.

Nowhere else in festival land have I seen so many people, and particularly the chaps, getting into the spirit of the occasion and dressing with such panache. Amazingly beautiful people abounded in outfits including tuxedos, ball gowns, flamenco dresses, Victorian corsets and Wellingtons! It could almost have been ladies day at Ascot, but with a distinct twist! It really was such a pleasure to see everyone making such an effort. This is particularly notable as it rained incessantly all day Saturday, luckily breaking around 8pm, in time for the evening festivities to commence. Once again everyone dressed for the occasion and a wild night was had by all.

If you think that sounds bizarre, how about a visit to the Insect Circus? A ride on the carousel? Or watching an elegantly dressed (in white shirt, bow tie & tails) gentleman playing kickin’ break-beat to cocktail drinking clubbers sitting in a converted aeroplane cockpit?

As far as amenities go, Lost Vagueness has made a great effort to go that extra mile to provide home comforts. The toilets, usually the bane of the festival goer, were clean and well stocked with Molton Brown hand wash & hand cream (yes, really!) and hot showers were available (free of charge). There was even an ice-cream van providing ice-creams, Sloggi knickers and other Sloggi freebies (yes, that’s right, free ice cream & knickers!). This certainly is a cut above any other festival that I or my friends have ever been to.

Even the sales outlets were different. At most festivals it seems the stallholders have all been to the same wholesale warehouse full of festive hippy-shit. Here, Stig was showing his amazing fetish furniture made out of reclaimed iron scrap and Georgie her erotic art prints. I can’t remember the name of the lady making (cheap!) clothing out of silk saris, but the skirt I bought is double-sided, different, looks good…and I didn’t need to take out a mortgage to buy it!

Lost Vagueness is weird, wild & wacky. In fact this festival is seriously ludicrous! Would I recommend this to my friends? Yes, most definitely.

But LOST Vagueness? No – I didn’t lose any of mine. Why else do you think it’s taken so long to review?

Eli Saikadeli

for more photos click here

This was the first time I’d been to the George with two rooms pumping. Shining was in the main room and the Hub Sound System, in a funky little room upstairs.
For Hard House lovers the Shining’s line up should not have been missed. Tony K, Skol, Dean Peters, Mark French, Roosta and Craig Mac, what a combo! And they all played a great smattering of classic tunes from a few years ago. There was a point in Roosta’s set when he played Keep Rocking, followed by a string of equally awesome oldies, where I peeked and entered that state of euphoric oblivion, not achieved at every party. The true sign of a good night.

The lighting effects created a dazzling atmosphere. Minimal coloured house lights, with plenty strobe and UV, and laser beams which bounced off glitter balls into every crook and nanny. The laser also projected images onto a screen. The squiggly cartoons were fun to watch and get lost in, but the images of guns and skulls and scary things were a strange thing to project amongst a loved up crowd. A minor point, but I take a lot of notice of backdrops and projections, and I do wonder where the thinking behind the images is coming from sometimes. There’s so much potential to amuse people with funny, cutesy cartoons, trippy, mind bending patterns, or eye watering colours, not guns, please! But the overall effects were stunning.

The main room at the George IV, has a pretty perfect set up, with a good-sized stage, facing the crowd for all us exhibitionists to perform on. Several times throughout the night the music inspired so many podium dancers that the stage became so rammed with raving rompers I thought the records would jump.
I did find it hard to tear myself away from there, but the Hub Sound System created a great vibe upstairs too. Banging out Breaks, Techno and Funky Techno were Dalski, Frisby, Mexitaff, Hutch, G-whizz, Boy Wonder and Scoot.
The night didn’t stop, instead there was a seamless Crossover to the next party at 6am which held the buzzed up crowds attention. That and a reluctance to venture out into the morning drizzle meant that most people stayed put. I did venture down to the 414 where the official after party was. There was plenty of room there to fly around to some more great tunes from Tony K, Craig Mac and Skol, and drink some energising cups of coffee, for a little while anyway, before ending up back at the George, for a bit more Crossover.

Eddie H and Mickey Fallout were B2B in full flight when I got back there three hours later, and the dance floor was still rammed and jumping to yet more great Hard House. Danny, the last DJ to play, changed the flavour a bit, by playing tunes far more on the Techno side. I do like my Techno, but I have to say that being played after Hard House doesn’t do it any favours. It has a whole different feel. It’s generally slower, and builds very gradually and subtly, there are less predominant tunes and it doesn’t have the same up-lift of Hard House. And I think the crowd reacted to this. You could see the euphoria return when tracks like Revolution were thrown in. But I still danced right till the bitter end, and jigged and twitched for a few hours after that, in true ‘that was a great 13 hours’ after glow.

Sarah Dancing Decor

for more photos click here

What ACR lacked in commercial success, they made up for in critical acclaim. They've been cited as one of the most influential acts to come out of the punk years -- moving a luminary like Andrew Weatherall to allegedly describe them as his favourite band of all time.

Their influence can be keenly felt in the output of bands such as The Rapture, LCD Soundsystem, Radio 4 and Franz Ferdinand. The peculiar appeal of ACR is best summed up by Peter York (co-author of the Sloane Ranger Handbook, so he knows a thing or two about trends). His take on ACR is that 'they were just so damn...early'. One instance where being ahead of your time is not necessarily a positive thing.

But the passage of time has vindicated the difficult path that ACR trod for so long. Tonight they are playing their first date in London for over two years and a large crowd of old-timers is joined by some fans who were probably at nursery when ACR started out.

Time has been kind to ACR -- clearly Manchester isn't the worst place in the world to eke out the days. As soon as the band launches into the first number, it's clear that they've still got it. They choose to begin with a medley that leads into one of their strongest ever numbers, their cover of Shack Up by the Banbarras -- a track sampled incessantly, meaning that you'll know it even if you've never heard it in it's entirety.

ACR are joined on stage tonight by Denise Johnson, a legend to those who know -- she provided the soaring vocals on Don't Fight It Feel It by Primal Scream, an anthem for early 90's clubbers. She was vocalist for the latter part of ACR's career, meaning we don't get to hear a lot of the early material. Original vocalist Martha Tilson's style could be charitably described as fey, like a proto-Beth Orton -- obviously ACR decided that it would be hard to make these work with Denise Johnson's powerful soul stylings.

Initially she seems to be slightly nervous -- perhaps with good cause, as the live room at Cargo is full to the rafters. She begins by singing to the band as much as the crowd, seeking some non-verbal reassurance from other band members. But once the initial nerves pass, she realises that she is amongst friends and clearly some of this new found confidence rubs off on the rest of the band.

The band treads a fine line between keeping the crowd happy with old favourites and trying out what sound like new compositions. This recent material seems to combine the two phases of ACR's career: the later and more soulful style they adopted when signed to A&M with occasional flourishes from the Factory era. Their forthcoming download-only album "And You, Forgotten" should afford die-hard fans the opportunity to become more familiar with their new sound.

As their set climaxes, I turn to my companion for the evening and say 'This is just like being back at the Hacienda in the 1980's'. Admittedly I was never there the first time around, so only have the fake nostalgia engendered through watching films like 24 Hour Party People.

But the penny has dropped for me -- I can finally understand where ACR fit into the history of dance music in Britain. They didn't really know what they were doing at the time. It's only now in the fullness of time that their contribution can be fully appreciated.

Not bad for a band that once claimed that they were crap, but weren’t sure why.

Set in the beautiful Wasing Estate Nature Reserve, the site was large enough to easily accommodate various dance stages, market places & a few thousand happy campers without feeling cramped, but small enough to avoid the major treks between stages, so typical of some other festivals.

This was perhaps the most glorious weekend of the year so far. The sun shone brightly on us, providing us the most perfect of camping conditions. After all, who cares about hot showers (which were available this year at the modest price of £1.50 a go) when you can cool off from the heat of British summertime (and imitate a Timotei advert!) under the numerous and deliciously cold stand-pipes around the site.

The whole site had been decorated with love, imagination & flair. Endless rows of multi coloured flags marked the way, shimmering and billowing in the gentle summer breeze. All around the site, inflatable shapes abounded, the most notable of these being the giant octopus, climbing up the main dance tent roof, perhaps in an attempt to escape the rising heat generated by the frenzied crowds!

The festival was full of typical yet somehow essential shopping opportunities, a chance to splash some dosh on clothing, jewellery, CDs & records or perhaps some (legal!) herbal substances. Some of the stalls were so delightfully colourful that they could have been mistaken for part of the festival decorations. Once the dancing, shopping and sunbathing had been exhausted for a while, there was a plethora of cafes and bars serving a diverse mix of cheap and yummy food and drinks from across the globe.

With 7 main music stages and several smaller areas, Glade provided a wide range of electronic dance music, from breaks to house to psy-trance with lots and lots in between. In fact, as promised, there was something for everyone within the realms of electronic dance. The main dance stage possibly hosting the most diverse range of acts, including Dreadzone, “Superstar” DJ Sasha and the brilliant DJ Pathaan (my mate Bill’s festival highlight), who played a wicked set of beautiful tunes to wind down the festival on that sunny Sunday afternoon.

In addition to the expected big top style tents, the Pussy Parlure offered a little glamour, showcasing cabaret acts throughout the weekend to a “lounge” style soundtrack of Soul, Latin, Jazz, Disco and lots more. All this performed inside an amazing, dazzling and extremely rare 1920s Mirror Tent, a surreal and incongruent sight in the middle of a field!
New to Glade 2005 was Golden Syrup stage, providing non-stop but un-programmed music 24 hours a day, a possible launch-pad for any aspiring musicians out there. Seeing as this was one of the warmest weekends of the year, the outdoor stages hosted by Origin, Liquid Connective & ID Spiral certainly attracted the crowds. What can ever be better, in our cold climes, than to spend a weekend dancing to some wicked tunes? After all, we Brits spend most of our lives inside avoiding the rain!

The best of the psy-trance for me was the Origin stage where some amazing acts including Silicon Sound, Protoculture, Joti Sidhu, Eskimo, Son Kite (to name just a few) wove their magic on the crowd Hypnotic beats reverberating in the sunshine ensured that we danced wildly like the truly tribal beings that we are.

The music at the main stages promptly ended at 4am. Then time to chill with ID Spiral, set at the far end of the site in a tranquil forested area, all the more enchanted, amazing and ethereal after partaking of some “magic” chai or perhaps a few (then legal!) magic mushrooms. A long standing festival favourite, featuring global music, djs and even an acoustic set from Eat Static. This was a 24 hour music and chill out zone with its renowned and well stocked café. Surrounded by glistening hanging decorations, soft lights twinkling in the approaching morning light, listening to blissful beats, in a comfy, colourful chill-out area reflecting all the very best of nature, what could be better? Time to make a wish, write it out and tie it to the very magical wish-tree and wait (they DO come true!).

The festival ended Sunday night at 8pm, just in time for those extremely unfortunate individuals having to return home in time to do the sensible “Monday morning” bit. So glad that wasn’t me!! Sunday night the festival spirit continued with the ID Spiral chill-out providing the tunes and many of the cafes providing food & chill out space. Many thanks to ID Spiral for providing us with several free cups of their delicious and legendary chai to warm our hearts!

All in all, Glade 2005 rocked! And what with the wonderful weather, Glade 2005 will be a very hard act to follow. This one gets my vote for festival of the year so far.

Unfortunately, my camera gave up towards the end of the festival (along with many of the people who had perhaps rather overdone things!) and so my photo memories were lost. I have included a few photos taken by Bill Vincent, which he has kindly provided.
For more photos of the festival, why not visit the Glade website www.gladefestival.com and also Access all Areas, who were on hand to provide useful festival information and advice www.accessallareas.org
The end of Glade 2005 also marked the end of the legal sale of magic mushrooms (and other freaky fungi) and therefore the end of an era of the harmless hallucinations enjoyed by so many. It was interesting to see so many mushroom sellers hawking their wares on Sunday, prices getting lower and lower, quantities getting larger and larger, in the attempt to sell all before the laws changed or the mushrooms went off!

So typical of our government to decide that a non addictive substance with no proven adverse affects should be criminalised. After all, a babble of giggling mushroom munchers is surely such a large threat to the stability of the nation eh?

Eli Saikadeli

Anyway here we were, Jam Gorilla, Prosiak & Le Mufti (a superb motley crew) going to SEOne on 23 July in a minicab and discussing rather explosive topics connected to recent bombings in London and wondering where is it going to happen next? This subject seems to be taboo in the clubbing environment where, it seems, they all live in a kind of bubble pretending that the outside world doesn’t exist or has no bearing on the weekend’s madness. Perish the thought but another question is looming; what is actually happening in the Middle East and who is liberating whom? We were however on a completely different mission altogether to liberate some sounds and experience some moods at “Break The System Down” so the subject was somehow quickly forgotten.

Security at the venue was reasonably apprehensive given circumstances but cool and efficient nevertheless. Perhaps the ban on bringing bags to the venue had something to do with it or maybe the conscious public was on its best behaviour but who cares as long as the door check is quick and intelligent.

Inside a rollercoaster just begun and this Indoor Festival 2nd Birthday– a creation of ES Collective (read Antiworld, Psygate amd Technoworld) promotion – was indeed a one hell of that.
Have been going to SEOne for ages now – starting with the infamous Warp Experience in 1999 and also been to many other festivals or mega events taking place in this enormous space. And have learned there is only one thing in common between them. They are neither better nor cooler nor bigger, they are just…different.

When it comes to Antiworld Indoor Festival it has been consistently offering, over it’s two years of existence, exhilarating and psychedelic to the heart journey through 5 sumptuous rooms of baroqueness deco, vision and sound. There was no change in quality or letting down the pressure on punters with “Break The System Down”.

In fact I will remember it as the one of the best Antiworld parties I have ever been to.
The vibe was nothing but fantastic –maybe it was the present danger that brought people together. Or maybe it was the fact that all light-hearted clubbers stayed home leaving space for true partygoers to flourish. And they were having a hell of the good time banging in every single room including Clockwork Prism’s chill out. Hey good on ya!
It was a high quality crowd making an extra effort to dress up and impress with surreal outfits and trippy hairdos. Glowing in the dark, shining in the open they added extra dimension to the party in full swing. And it was a swing in ways more than one.

Firstly it was truly a festival of light of any kind you could imagine or fancied. There were several rooms packed with exquisite visual effects but two main rooms, Psygate and Upfront, were exceedingly good in throwing blizzards of multi coloured smoke mixed with powerful scanner stabs and sprinkled with fluorescent, luminous and ultra violet toppings.

Couple that with tongs of silk flames enveloped in screens of visuals and lasers slashing through and playing with your retinas. It was a visual and aesthetic feast that will stay a long time with me. Extra mention goes to Electro Breaks room deco designers for creating a superbly cool and suave optics. Bravo…
Secondly musically it was a kaleidoscope of all shades of psytrance, hard dance, techno, breaks and old skool. You name the style and it was there, well…apart from jungle and garage, but my uneducated guess is there wasn’t enough room to accommodate them or they demanded a completely different crowd.
Labelled as “back to the underground party” the line-up indeed included well-known and established artists together with DJ’s playing in squats or semi-legal underground venues in London. And they delivered fantastic performance, full of verve and bite. There is no point to list them all here, as it would be a long list and some of them are walking legends of the scene demanding more than just a mention…
Lastly there were people and they were absolutely unique, international mish mash of high order,

So again here I were as many times in the past schmoozing through the maze of SEOne - leaving poor Mufti completely in awe of Clockwork Prism chill out and Mandie More delicious mix, and deservedly so. Dropping my meagre belongings under the care of Prism crew – consistently in top form and to their credit voted the best room in Alexandra Palace enterprise, ahoy!.. – I went awol into the masses.

Thanks God place wasn’t rammed – otherwise everything turns into the nightmare of queuing up everywhere – and doing continuous rounds presented no problems. First room in my continuous voyage – nomen omen – was Frequency, tech house specialists extraordinaire. Cheerful and busy grooving with dirty twisted bits and bobs lead by Moni, Alek and Mikki between others. For best result go and see them @ Alhambra as this place provides unrivalled underground feel.
They offered housey refuge for many seeking respite from the unleashed furies just next door, and that was Psygate hosted by Antiworld in collaboration with BNE & HOMmega Records – completely different kettle of fish altogether.

What can I say? …Psygate room was a high quality and kicking psytrance spectacle, illuminated by surreal deco, steaming with visuals and heaving with the buoyant crowd, the busiest room of them all and in my humble view most entertaining on the night. There is no friendlier bunch than psytrance peeps and I sampled it at Fairy Tales, Symbiosis (where are they hiding now?), Synergy Project etc… or psy gigs downtown with Mr Horoscope at the helm. Wherever they go they bring something special with them. No question about it. The same goes to the DJs and on the night I was impressed with Marcello Vor, Oforia and Delirious driving psychedelic waves through receptive audience. There is indeed something to behold when the tune hits the nerve and the crowd moves like a giant serpent stretching and reaching out beyond. Psychedelic force I say. As a consequence stayed there longer making occasional forays into surrounding domains.

Upfront Room was as mentioned before an orgy of special effects supported by strong hard dance line up. To be completely frank, I don’t really care about headliners since it’s all in the vibe and the people – they are the true creators of the bangin party - I seen many a venue emptied or staying empty despite booking big names but surprise, surprise Lab 4 banged it out loud and clear. Locked in the cage they manically rattled space around them with highly powered mix. Got everyone dancing and even muppets in the stalls area were bouncing. Weeked.
Matt Handy had an excellent entrée earlier on and things went smoothly on and according to plan if there was any plan, that is. I missed all other acts simply for being somewhere else and enjoying different buzz.

I was probably in Teknoworld – interesting combination of ascetic deco and gloomy lights, to be in techno mood I presume but it worked just fine. Excellent performances, especially from D.A.M Mast Vs Fabio Spezzaferri. An absolutely not to be missed class act and playing harder than nails techno full stop - they kept me glued for at least half hour before I realised its time to move. Damn reviewing 5 room’s bash, there is never time to stop and savour the music anymore. Yet I revisited Teknoworld again and again simply drawn to the rawness of the sound and it’s squat appeal and watched Mike Smeglett and Chris Liberator spinning out hardened magic.

Electro and Breaks room hosted by Neon And Silverback Records was a very pleasurable ultra violet experience. Took time to fill up but the sound was great and slowly place got rocking in its sublime electro ways. It was also surprise to hear Lisa Lashes chopping out the breaks and she was great by all accounts. Change of career on cards,.. maybe?
Personally I think it suits her better because her hard house mixing doesn’t do much to me. Suppose I am just spoiled and hard to please hardcore, innit?

Blissfully tired and worn out I ended up eventually like at any past Antiworld’s event @ SEOne in Clockwork Prism room, rearranging myself and having a chat with Matt Harder Faster about good old days. Or maybe it was a bright future. Whatever….
With one last round and deep into after party time I found myself listening to Eduardo Herrera finishing still up for it crowd – mad cap he is indeed. But unable to move due to over exposure to party elements and after 13 hours I finally gave in. Go home muppet. Zzzzzzz……

All in all it was awesome experience and perfect example of working harmony between different styles. Thick walls of SEOne are mainly responsible here for keeping entities of separate environments intact and the place still keep this old underground vibe going. Yes sir!.
Autumn edition of Indoor Festival will soon hit you in October at secret location in London. The party is as good as the last one so I honestly recommend it. Just go…

Jam Gorilla

For more photos click here

Logic’s 6th birthday and Oblivion’s 3rd birthday was my first time at the Fridge since 2002. (I’ve not been slacking; I lived in beautiful South Africa for a couple of years in-between.) I used to get a huge rush, coming down from upstairs, and pushing open the doors leading to the dance floor. After the starkness of the corridor, being suddenly confronted by hundreds of flying clubbers, intense lights, and overwhelming sound, used to give me a massive buzz. Walking in to Logic on Friday, I braced myself for the initial impact. It put a gaping grin on my face and I was blasted back to my early days. Could it be more glittery and colourful than before? The number of lasers made an immediate impression, creating an awesome eye banquet, the wall of high-energy sound and the very into it, vibrant crowd were just how I remembered, ahhhh… the Fridge!

I weaved through the crowds of chillers and chatterers, to take a look at the dance floor, which was ram packed full of waving arms and cheesy grins, and all facing the DJ, who’s much more visible now, just how it should be. Eduardo Herrera had the enthusiastic, logical crowd, jumping. The bar area seemed more colourful and sparkled with glitter balls and lights as I wondered through, heading for what used to be the restaurant/chill out, to see how it worked as a second room. I always thought the only thing missing at the Fridge was a second sound system, and now it’s got one. In this great sized space with sofas and a handy perch for surveying the scene, Oblivion was warming up nicely to the tunes of Andy T.

The Logic line up was impressive, featuring two of my old favourite DJ’s, MC Dry Weave and Proteus, as hard and highly energised as ever. No pyrotechnics tonight, instead Proteus scaled the heights as part of his show. Ting exuded extreme energy, and injected it into the crowd, while spinning some quite different ‘hard, hi energy, metal house’. And Alek Szahala’s live set was very fast and powerful.

The Oblivion room had a great vibe with a dose of bounce, and full of the good old familiar, friendly Fridge fraternising. I met lots of lovely peeps in here, full of fresh-faced enthusiasm; so glad to see it’s still there!

By the end of the night I was illogically oblivious and found myself at the George for the after party, a good move, I love the George when it pumps like this, the perfect way to get even more when you’re not ready to stop!

Sarah Dancing Decor

For more photos click here
or here

It's well organised and friendly, with several floor plans. The main space with the bar and food kitchen has generous seating; a space to dance on and a courtyard access which is well used, during the Summer months for juggling, poi and also has ample seating.

Off the bar are two separate levels. One exclusively decked with large tables where various children's activities are devised by the PA staff, as well as some of the parents, who volunteer their services, thus keeping the children well entertained with various activities such as costume-making, face painting, painting and organised games, etcetera, devised to keep the kids entertained, educated and motivated...and they are well busy during the day!

And as Angel told me:
"Our ethos for *Chilled* has always been to create a unique and alternative space for like-minded people, friends & families to spend quality time together, in an environment where they feel safe, comfortable and inspired to interact, play and create - whatever their age!"

"We work hard to get the balance of elements right and provide a range of activities from Holistic Health Workshops to Performers, Art, Crafts, Games & more! For me there's no greater pleasure than watching children and adults communicate and connect with each other on a one-to-one basis, as they play a game, make something or share food. We regularly see three generations of the same family, sharing a table. It's great to see everyone making friends, learning creative skills and having a good time. It’s what it's all about for me!"

And as Angel says, that is absolutely what you get, as this Sunday Chill is tailor-made for Clubbers with children and also those trance-addicts who've mellowed out and seek newer forms of interaction away from the smoke filled and banging environments of mayhem...
There is an upstairs chill out space with big sofas to sprawl into, with your mates, and back rooms used for individual and group healing sessions, especially Reiki, and are free to attend.

The highlight of the Sunday was Temple Hedz who delivered a good set and that started a surge of dancers to accompany them and the subsequent DJs rocked the place down till the end. A special mention to U-4-Ric aka Richard Morley, a fine Trance DJ who has set standards in the underground scene, for many years. He delivered a lovely mix of funky breaks and fluffy trance that brought back vivid and colourful memories of nights at Imperial Gardens.
That is usually what happens at a Planet Angel Chilled...as the day progresses, the music goes from ambient like trance and world beats to full blown trance for the evening session, which being a Bank Holiday weekend extended the license till 1am instead of the usual 10pm finish.

Finally, I asked Angel what plans they had for the future:
"We hope to continue to develop and grow *Chilled* to be all it can be, our main focus right now is to encourage more people (particularly unemployed and low income parents), to get involved - with their kids - and incorporate their ideas, improvements, workshops, games, activities and more!"

If you used to hang out at Spitz for "Loungeabout" or "Bingly Bongly" then this is a "chill" you will enjoy, with the same faces and the added bonus of interactive ness to occupy adults and children alike.

Le Mufti

Next Chilled is happening this Sunday at the same place

for more info click here

This all happened at Riva de Greci, a resort near Metaponto, a village on the southern Italian Ionian coast. Around the village, there are caves, and ancient Greek ruins, but the main reason for the convergence of 100 or so ravers from London, and the rest of Italy, was the combination of warm sunny weather, and the rig set up on the beach by Unsound.

On the Friday of the weekend I was there, drum n bass DJ, Rowan from Megabitch cut her tunes up like mad – playing some meaty b-lines, then cutting out the bass to play just the treble. There were also more vocals than I’d heard her play before, though her set was still not for the faint-hearted. Still on the heavy dnb tip, DJ Deadlock did a good set that night backed up by I-Shu on vocals.

The b-lines kept comin’ when Hugh Jah Fink followed with an excellent set of funky cuts, remixed into new tracks: it was truly impossible not to dance to his set.

Saturday was a happy, hazy, blur, with only vague recollections of the music - sorry!

Bands on the Sunday included Krikka, a Bob Marley sound alike reggae band, whose tunes, unsurprisingly, blended very well with beach and sea.
Following them was a solo vocal set from Fil, ex Back to the Planet. Some people there loved her, and she does have a sweet voice, but her set would’ve had a lot more oomph if she had a live band playing her songs, instead of flat-sounding pre-recorded backing tracks from a Karaoke machine.

At this point, I should mention that I’m in a wheelchair. This next bit is for the benefit of other wheelchair users: folks, you need to know that the place is a bit challenging. The beach is accessible via a stony road, and I needed the help of two people to carry me in my chair over the sand.
Despite that, I still had a great time, buggin’ out to the music, chatting with people, and generally having a laugh. Email me at withcurrysauce@hotmail.com if you’d like more detailed info on disabled access.
This was Unsound’s first Italian beach party. Despite the lack of big crowds, the vibe was fantastic. People were dancing, swimming, half buried in the sand while sleeping, wrestling with blow-up dolphins, and god knows what else!
The previous day, at sunrise, wild dolphins jumped out of the sea chasing fish, as landlubber ravers cheered them on. And the sunrises were beautiful.

Minnie Mouse

Check www.unsound-system.org for info on upcoming festival @ Metaponto this September.

...Twisted, shaken, stirred, seduced and delightfully tantalised! .........

As soon as I entered I was reminded of a classic 'house party'. The kind that only happened about twice a year when all your best mates seemed to come together at once, and at every turn there was someone else that you hadn't seen in ages but felt ecstatic to be seeing them now.

The venue? Nothing flash but I liked its non-pompous friendly feel. Once inside you move through the first room and exit through a door to what was a sheltered outdoor area. This also contributed to the great atmosphere. There's just something about knowing you're partying in the outdoors, and to be able to escape the heat of the up-for-it dancing away inside, gave you the breathe of fresh air you needed here and there.

The distant heat of the day and the gentle breeze, now provided natures air conditioning. Through another door and we're in the second room which then led onto the chill out area along with the bar and cloak room.
The music? I wasn’t able to catch all the DJs but what I did see what impressive. Lots of hands in the air and big smiles from those sweating Chesire Catz (bless the DJs in their little box).

Tom Real, the dirty bugger, supplying us with his regular, filthy, make love not war, get right on down dancin’ style and the headlining DJ, Tim Sheridan, different to what I’m used to but definitely very interesting. Other DJs on the night included Tania Von Pear, Adam Creeger, Mike Monday, Big Daddy G, King Roc and Shane Watcha who all managed to keep the crowd dancing, smiling and there ‘til the end.

The At Night crew have managed to capture a really great vibe with this every so often party. Guess it's ‘cause they're in it for the good times and not for the cash. That makes all the difference in the world. They've got the talent to bring it to you, so they are.

I’m well up for another twisting in the near future. Bring it on boys and girls!!

Intrepid

for more photos from the night click here
more info on Cheshire Catz

Courtesy of Louise & Tony this is the longest running hard house and hard trance night in London and there is no sign of it losing its momentum and the vibe. For they come faithfully, week after week, arriving in drones in early hours of the night.
Shadows of the night, the toughest of the die hard clubbers, some aliens from distant planets, Brixton’s pirates and revellers who just don’t care to go that extra length as work for some of the dedicated is definitely off.

It makes it even more surreal when morning light seeps in through the blinds and you realise that outside world just started the Monday routine.

As they say, you never lived if you haven’t been there

The thing I like the best about Just Groove is that they serve this unique Brixton blend of hard house the likes of which you cannot really find anywhere else bar South London. Kicking, bouncy and uplifting as hell. Yet it shouldn’t come as a surprise at all when you consider it is been presented by long standing residents: Muzz, Roosta, Skol - that already have more than earned their place in gallery of Brixton greats - and the cream of underground DJs with Craig Mac being a constant fixture for quite a time now.
The sound is raw and spontaneous: just what you need to put you in the outer-world where mix can last for hours and there is no time for anything else but kicking the earth and Goddess nature in one spiralling move. The venue itself lends a bit to it with the marble floor in main room – superb for dancing - and spacious and isolated chillout upstairs, not to mention security that is one of best in London. After some time one can just take them for friends and not steroid packed gorillas that scare you.
Still it’s a bloody miracle of some sort that they are still running it and after 520 or more nights still keep them coming. Congratulation!
On the big night 414 opened at 8pm and there was a family reunion upstairs with food served and bits & bobs apart from my usual hot chocolate. Down below it was another Just Groove solid thumping business as usual with some delicious surprise in person of Marc French – my personal favourite since Odyssey and XLR8 days.
Anniversary crew besides residents included: Vinyl Zoo crack team represented by Latex Zebra and RedCat, Swamp big boys: Mattie C and Mad Phil and also Mr T, Matt E and Tony K known for non compromising performances.

Typically for 414 night it was a upstairs/downstairs adventure, sipping hot chocolate in the chill out and swirling down the spiral staircase like a Tarzan or Jam Gorilla no less to hear a favourite tune.
This particular staircase holds dear memories of previous Just Groove’s – and I’d been to couple of hundreds – when it was the Final Obstacle (to the hot chocolate, that is), where the 4th dimension finally rubbed in. I saw many others do the same trip – by back staircase that is. Actually, all of us.

Where is life there is always a staircase….

So here I were polishing old skill all night long – great for your night navigation and fitness, innit?
Bless the divine design that stimulates mind and body simultaneously in equally entangled and emotional ways. Because there is something definitely electric about the moment when one descends into pulsating beat below. Now, talking about DJs, all of them tried to raise to the occasion by kicking huge mixes till the morning dew but in my opinion Muzz was a man of the night, twisting and pumping best out of this outstanding pack.
Good on ya! Keep bangin’
To give credits to all involved, we got Mattie C and Mad Phil for starters. They have been opening the score at Just Groove for some time now and they did it again: sharp and kicking. Latex Zebra, better known for his techno-trancey antics @ Vinyl Zoo, whack it out with some solid hard trance mash up. His sidekick RedCat closely followed him and they were exquisite act together.
Meantime Tony K and Matt E were busy playing musical chairs with Mr. T and kicking at large with the range of classics and modern bangers. As the night rolled on Marc French got up and performed on and off the stage with unmistakable clarity. Secret lies in detail apparently.
Then finally time came for residents to take over and deliver goods yet again and it was Muzz who turned the heat on brilliantly and got all of us going. Almighty Skol in cool partnership with Craig Mac stayed on course and Roosta is a truly banging artist extraordinaire. In short, they played and we danced till the Monday light.
How else?

Yo! Happy anniversary Just Groove and keep them coming!

Jam Gorilla

Due to unforeseen circumstances all of my picks went missing and I would like to extend my eternal gratitude to Pink Kitty and Sexy Minx for use of their photos.

for more photos of the participants click here
more photos from the night by Sexy Minx
more info on 414 and DJs

We got there early, before it was busy, and worked out where all four rooms were in this huge venue. The Techno room downstairs had the advantage for pulling the crowd, it was the first room you stumbled into, that is if you didn’t stumble into the DJ box by mistake, which I did a couple of times, ooops, just taking photos!!
This room was a good size, and throughout the night, to my ears, pretty hard acidy, rather than minimalist or funky sounds vibrated the air. In a side bar next door, Electro sharply twanged and popped sparse electronic sounds.

Up a few steps at the back of the Techno room, in a darker, grungier space, a constant crowd speed danced to Drum and Bass. Eventually we found the Acid Techno room, or arena more like, this separate room upstairs was massive, it was gunna be a big party!

I’ve been away for over two years and have heard that Techno is pulling a bigger crowd these days than Trance or Hard House, but I imagined that to be in the more underground, free party scene, not in a big venue like this.
Last time I heard Techno and Drum and Bass side by side like that, was at a squat party probably in Hackney somewhere, with a crowd that I’d imagine would be unlikely to frequent a venue like the Rocket, even with a top line up like this. So I was interested to see who would fill the huge spaces.

The spaces did fill, leaving room to stomp, with many beautiful looking Europeans, with Mohawks or Dreadlocks or both, and a fair smattering of more regular clubbers who have maybe emigrated to Techno. It was a much fluffier, loved up vibe than the grungy, squalid atmosphere of a squat party, (I’m not dissing squat parties, I used to really love them, especially Sunday mornings after a non -stop weekend) But it’s good to see dirty, ripping acid sounds, putting smiles on peoples faces, rather than grimaces!
The Techno room climaxed for me with Lenny Dee from New York. He played a storming set. The crowd cheered when he came on, he slowed the final track of the last set down and came flying in, fast and hard. That man loves his music, he went off! Jumping around his box to his dirty, bending, sucking sounds.

Apparently he played his first set at a roller disco, when he was 17, and has been through a range of music styles, from Disco to Electro-Body to High Energy to early House. He did a recording engineering degree, and was production assistant for New Order amongst others. Now he’s way up there with the Techno gurus. He created the sound Hardcore Techno, and became number one international DJ in Germany, France and Switzerland with this sound. In USA, in 1991 he started Industrial Strength Records. Among many releases, he has Techno tracks on the Liberators underground label Maximum/Minimum.

Once the Drum and Bass room had filled up, it held on to its speedily, jigging crowd. It always amazes me how fast this music is, how talented the MC’s are, and how it makes your bones vibrate! It doesn’t matter how many times I hear it, it always takes me by surprise, and I usually end up in front of a speaker, being overwhelmed by bass and morphed into a vibration, all with a strange sense of deja vous.
The huge Acid Techno room had started to fill by the time Chemical Warfare’s promoter Mark Axel came on. He turned out to be one of those beautiful Europeans! Born in Italy, moved to London in 1995 and started playing in 1999. Mark plays a mixture of Minimal/Acid/Uplifting/Techno. His main influence and favourite DJ is Chris Liberator. He’s played at several parties around Europe, including Italy, Czech Republic, Spain and Portugal. In 2002 he created MFM Sound. Well he’s come a long way in a relatively short time!

In this room the DJ’s played on a large stage, surrounded by two huge projected, hypnotic mirror images, which went nicely with the massive drape which spanned the room from the centre, like a web.
In true Techno style, the whole party became awesomely and overwhelmingly relentless, every space was filled with sound, and for the rest of the night, as I oscillated between rooms, all my hairs vibrated non stop to a strong acid cocktail of Animatek, D.A.V.E. The Drummer, Darc Marc and Chris Liberator.

Sarah Dancing Décor.

for more photos click here

God bless all of you "seasoned festival ravers" and all of you lovers of parties for putting this on. With, as they chosen to accept, the mission to rejuvenate and electrify energies recently done to death in this field of Psy-Trance. And what an appropriate time to do so when the festie season is just around the corner and 6am doesn't feel like Antarctica anymore.

Some of you may know Studio 33 for "Milk", the Saturday after party, amongst other events that have been staged there. Well, it’s had a paint job and seems to have had some alterations done to the space, since my last visit. Also some of the decor added to the original layout was reminiscent of Bar Cairo in style with its exotic and well thought out layering of rich fabrics. Understandably, some people compared Studio 33 to a cleaner Imperial Gardens, but that's not difficult, isn’t it?
Special mention must be given to Crunchymole's chill-out gallery: completed with trippy soft toys and a wacky tree-man (don't ask!).

A place very friendly, which I could describe as a space to hangout for a pause and a natter, while looking down at the action downstairs.

Not to mention the temptation of mushroom chai from the small cafe. It's very civilised to have that option of a hot drink, with the added bonus of fungal beverages to boot! And that tea was off the scale...err… Well I have never usually felt anything from that sort of chai, so I’ve chosen the stronger dose, and you can guess the rest. I wasn't the only one!
The Goblin's Chamber saw the main action on the night. Good visuals combined with active video-collage and imagery-pokery from the VJ crew, who were exceeding themselves with brilliant improvisation. Special mention to DJs Menog and Dark Angel as well as to Aeon's (produced) set

Wickedly-whizzing Wizards of the decks. Yeah! The main room could still do with major refurbishment of the roof to cushion and pad-out the sound distribution better. The most successful room was by far The Crystal Labyrinth. It offered a wide range of styles with lots of eclecticism and circus music and wholesome quirkiness. The whole vibe of the room was one of the best environments I can recall shaking my old bones to. Fantastic lighting with matching vibe, which probably helped to attract the nicest clubbers you would ever want to take back to meet the parents. Yeah! Psy-Trancers frenetically joyful with uplifting dancing hands held high to the cosmos.

Some of this can be blamed on that mushroom tea but bravo to the hippy guy at the urn for adding to an overall set of elements that made this night one to remember for a long time.
I should praise the lighting production again, with some of the most powerful strobe-light effects I have yet experienced. I had to close my eyes, but that made no difference. Intensity of the very fast flash repetitions was so powerful, that they seemed to form a curtain of silver-white in an overwhelming display. I remain impressed.

Now, I have one real issue with Studio 33 which, caused an enormous amount of consternation and bewilderment on the night. It is the matter...groan... of "Re-filling the water bottles". It is raising its ugly head again. Huh? I hear you cry! Rant: Firstly, they had the ubiquitous geezer selling shampoos and hair gel etc, at the washbasins, who directed people with empty water bottles toward a "bend-over" water fountain. Now that's not an easy way of filling up, I dare say, but bearable for argument's sake, until later in the evening, when the club posted a security guy there with the sole purpose of blocking any attempts bar being chucked out of re-filling... I am surprised this didn't cause a riot. It will happen eventually without a doubt... yeah, let's see how a hardcore/Garage crowd or the cocaine-fuelled Housey brigade reacts when denied a basic, fundamental need: Water. It's the law. I rest my case.
Now I am not sure exactly if this party will come back or not, as I write this. I have heard some positive feedback on the grapevine for a future event in the Summer. But I would honestly say to The Labyrinth crew: "We need you at a party any time near us! Ok?" For this could be a new beginning to a lovely journey on the Psy-Trance path.

Le Mufti

for more photos from the night click here

There is one major difference, though, and that is in the music: the Warp had trance and live bands, but I always felt that the music was a secondary thing: at Synergy, there seems to be more emphasis on music, with a greater diversity of sounds.

There were two rooms of live music: one showing global music bands with belly dancers, the other, which I immersed myself in, was a room where two MC’s called Double Negative – an Asian guy and a white girl, who sang positive lyrics about unity. They went down well with the crowd, and, personally, they were my faves on that night.
Every room seemed to be dedicated to a particular cause – that room featured artists involved in the Peace Not War campaign. Check http://www.peace.fm
There was a chillout area run by BinglyBongly; and on the main dancefloor, Dark Angel, Liquid Ross, and pumped out psy-trance. Earlier, Whirlygig resident DJ Monkey Pilot made a rare outside appearance, playing global trance rhythms.

In the main room, the visuals are always worth a look. This time, Survival for Tribal Peoples had taken over the projector, and images of tribesmen were mixed with distorted photos of George Bush. There was also a show by tribal drummers from Ghana, which went well with the vibe generated by the friendly crowd of hippies and traveller-types rockin’ to the beats.
For me, parties are as much about people as the music: there’s a crowd of people who go to Whirlygig and Planet Angel, then there is another lot who go to Raindance and Resonance, as well, of course, lots of other people from the underground scene. And they all seem to bump into each other at Synergy.

As the name suggests, the Synergy Project is more than just a party, it is a gathering of various groups involved with the underground scene.
What makes it unique is the sheer variety of things on offer: you can listen to poetry, or see films, look at artwork, or meet activists from groups such as Campaign against the Arms Trade, the Green party and others. All the organisations represented there come from the green/left political spectrum. As well as the bar, you can also get a cuppa and a bite to eat, or you can have a massage, buy some new tunes, or check out the ubiquitous fluorescent clothing and jewellery stalls.

All in all, Synergy is a great place to take those friends who don’t normally like clubbing, as well as the diehard ravers in the family! For info on the next party check
http://www.thesynergyproject.org

Minnie Mouse

It all started off rather quiet, but by midnight this small friendly venue had a good sized crowd rockin’ to the Gobfathers, who came on at the beginning, and did a half hour set between the bands.
They were two MC’s – one of them was a human beatboxer who did it in a DnB style really well. He made convincing musical noises in other genres too. The other Gobfather was a regular, but good, MC, who really played for the crowd. Along with a lot of their own songs, they did a Prince cover ‘Kiss’, which was a helluva lot better than the original.
They invited people to name a subject for them to sing about. Somebody said his girlfriend was gonna give him a massage, so they did a song about that. “I wanna massage –I’ll even pay for it!” The Gobfathers’ set was like a sharp, funny, DnB version of ‘Who’s Line Is It Anyway’
Sub Source, the first band on, were good when they were fast, but when they were slow, they didn’t quite do it for me. I just wanted to dance. They rocked after Lady MC came on “None of that electronic shit – this is live Drum & Bass, that’s what we feel” Go there, girl!

DeadSilence Syndicate, who despite the name are actually bloody loud- followed and got people right into the groove. Towards the end, they diversified a bit from heavy DnB, to punk - yes, punk! They did an excellent punk track at the end of their set. Deep, fat dirty bass, fast drums, powerful vocals- they’ve got it sorted.
DJ Haze followed, aided and abetted by MC Wrec, a big, friendly ted of a geezer, who kept jumping off the stage to dance with us punters.

Y’know, musical instruments are getting very surreal these days. In Sub Source, there was this guy playing what I think was a double bass, but it looked like a modern art sculpture. Same with Dead Silence Syndicate –there was someone playing a fiddle that didn’t look like any fiddle I’d seen before. Whatever –it was a good night; the music and the MC’s were excellent, and very original. It’s good to see musical boundaries being pushed, especially when it actually works.

Minnie Mouse

The Synergy Project is a collective which aims to increase awareness of global issues affecting the planet and the lives it supports through the mediums of music, dance and arts from around the globe
This time I’m starting the day behind the scenes, helping to set up the “dark blue” area, this time hosted by BinglyBongly. Spare a thought for the hardworking crew providing the essential elements of the party for you.

We arrived around midday to put in 10 hours of hard graft, teamwork and inspiration, climbing ladders, hanging backdrops and lighting and trying hard to avoid the slimy gunge falling from the walls straight into my eyes, yuck!!
Well, this is certainly one way to conquer my fear of ladders - and a good workout ahead of the party!
For the first time, Whirl-y-Gig hosted the main dance room.
Whirl-y-Gig, a child friendly and extremely fluffy party, which has been running now for around 25 years, something of a record within our community and owed in a large part to its very loyal supporters, many having been going since the beginning.

The showcase was the “Kakatsiksai” master drummers from Ghana, whipping the crowd to a frenzy with their immense skills. This was followed by Whirl-y-Gig’s very own Monkey Pilot, playing a mighty 3 hour set of global beats. A little different from the usual psy-trance offerings up to this point, but then the Liquid crew took over the decks ending the night with wonderful journeys into the realms of trance.

The ID Spiral crew were joined by Hafla, a Jewish/Arabic collaboration, to provide us with wonderfully ethnic influenced music and dance, including some fantastic belly-dancing, a total inspiration for me, having just taken up classes myself.

Other live music rooms included the “Peace not War Project” featuring some radical rappers, reggae, drum & base and hip-hop styles with strong anti-war messages in both the lyrics and accompanying projections.

And back to the Dark Blue rooms, 3 connecting rooms of bright backdrops, projections and lots of seating. The perfect place to sit and have a little chill, but not too much, and enjoy the journey though the realms of dance music accompanied by some fine percussion from Mr Bongly and friends.
All in all, The Synergy Project remains one of the most musically diverse, conscious raising and influential parties within our community.

Eli Saikadeli

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Having been away for the last two years, I was relieved to hear that kinda sound was still around. I'd been told by several old clubbing friends, some of whom have eased off the clubbing thing, and some have slid sideways on the scene, that the music's changed and the crowd is different. I guess it depends where you look.

So for my first all night London club party in two years I decided to go to SKWOSH, it seemed like a pretty safe bet music wise, as it is Rob Kane’s party, and it's described as Happy Hard House. Third Base at Mass wasn't going when I was around before. First impressions are that it's a great venue for this scale of party. Very relaxed, friendly atmosphere, cool security and staff, great lighting by Club Tek, and a banging Turbo Sound System, there was even a toilet canteen!

I came in on Alex Parsons set, and both his and Rob's set took me back to when I was a novice clubber in '99/2000. They played cheeky, beeye-boongy bouncy ball sounds with jibberish lyrics and cartoon scribbles, which turned people into playful, dancing animations.

Most peeps bounced non-stop through both sets, such happy, silly music, can't help but create an elated vibe. Sneaky Dave’s final set didn't quite have the bounce of the rest, he played far more vocally tunes, but for me by then it was time to sit and talk shit anyway.
Then realising I wanted more, ended up at George 4th, which did suggest that some aspects of the scene have changed a bit!

Sarah Dancing Decor

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So who was it in the media that waxed lyrical about the demise of Dance music culture last year? Huh? Let the culprit stand in the dock and bring on the 3000 or so punters that sweated with senses buzzing on overload. Yes, bring them on: one by one for the prosecutor to contest those misguided assertions, those statements of gloom and doom in every way...hmm.
So it did sell more papers and why we should care?

Dance in it's harder, uncut expression is… well…glorious. Basic and seemingly untouched; it challenges stereotypes as well.

This is the expression of the ghettoes, the inner cities. A forum of diverse urban scenes coming together and all of them bringing in good vibes regardless who they are: straight, chavs, hippies, piss heads, bimbos, travellers, anarchists and activists.

They were all there and they all mixed with the same pursuit of release; getting it all out of their systems and dancing hard with the promptings of the MCs. special mention to MC Strict who was in fine form and DJs like Squirrel - an old Raindance favourite who hasn't lost his grip on proceeding and read the crowd's mood, pushing them ever further onwards.

None of these DJs fears anthems either, so you could get them peppered throughout the night. An hour of Drum & Bass or was it three? Yep!

It was so good and so upliftingly fresh, with amazing new material that my body wouldn't leave the room under any pretext for ages. And so was the Hardcore and Old Skool.

Everything pumping to a hypnotic beat that had me glued to the dances floors all night. Do not bother going there to socialize. OK? - cos you will not get a chance unless you do meet up beforehand at a pub!
My head is still in a blurr... And I'd love to have all the mixes of all those styles staying with me for a long time.
It was that good.

Le Mufti

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http://www.raindanceravefestival.com

The Synergy Project is probably the only party where you can learn about spiritual issues such as Buddhism, buy a book on the mysteries of the ancient runes, listen to live percussion bands and move your body and dance to some stompingly good psy-trance. Each room is so different, from the shoeless & smoke free area of pure relaxation that is the White Tara Temple, the Forced Out room hosting live music, poetry and art, to the Latin influenced tunes of the Costa Urbana area, to the full-on psy-trance of Project Ozma and back to the Gallery, brought to us by Art Nation, showcasing the works of talented but yet unknown artists. Synergy truly is London’s ripest underground festival.

This particular party was dedicated to “Operation Hope”, which was set up by the British Indian Ocean Territory Islanders Movement in 2004. You may recall from the news that the Diego Garcia islanders, who are British Citizens, were forcibly moved from their homeland in the 1960s and deported to Mauritius. The islanders are now struggling for justice and the right to return to their homeland and it is Operation Hope’s objective is to support these poor and vulnerable displaced islanders and their descendants. At this particular Synergy, Project Ozma was responsible for hosting the main dance area. Particularly remembered were the plethora of wonderful VJs performing through the night to ensure that the sights were as impressive as the sounds.

DJs on the night included Project Ozma residents Zzbing, Kaleiodosonic & Shafnu, Dark Angel and guests. A packed party of 3,000+ revellers, crowded but still comfortable enough to wander about, dance unhindered and find a spot to park when the legs are getting wobbly!

All in all, Synergy Project is a unique concept on the London Party scene and thoroughly deserves its ever-increasing fan base. So, when’s the next one?

© Eli Saikadeli

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Well, this pre-Halloween extravaganza worked because of the people.
Well, you the Muppets were in fine form and if truth is to be told, as I journeyed in a chemically fuelled state under the vaults of SEOne,
I was pleased. Brilliant! I applaud you all who ventured out that night for bringing such a good vibe with you. This excellent feeling permeated everything, even the vagaries of the persistent cock-handed organisation of the security outside, which I would have expected by now to have finally got their act together.
Yet with the cold autumnal breeze wafting up the road, you just wanted to get inside quickly and not piss fart around. And I'm just talking about the guest list/concessions queue here, let alone you lovelies who had to fork out nearly 20 squid for da privilege! Once inside, however, the security was non-existent, invisible and chilled so the night unravelled as a stress free relaxing night for all.

As I schmoozed around the venue, the Techno room, with DJ Beamish at the helm and pumping it up with his well thought out layering of electronica sucked me in immediately. The highlights there, by far, were Aaron Liberators and Mark EG's sets, whose obvious quality filled a room that had been lacking in atmosphere for most of the night, due to the lack of presence of on average - to keep the sex proportions up to current trends - 50 blokes and 4 chicks.
Yeah, just a handful of hardcore protagonists up to that point and loadsa peeps passing through. But when the above dejays were in action, these "cruisers" ceased cruising, stopped wandering, looked up, listened, and danced their tits off! Suddenly there were women in there, which in my advanced condition made me stop and do a double take. Amazing what a few hours of chemistry can do to the soma of the soul innit?! Still those of you who braved the Techno room were treated to some excellent stuff. Now while I am on this subject: "What's the difference between Techno and Detroit Techno?" Huh? How the fuck do I know what the difference is! And frankly, can you?The Psy Trance and especially the Nu-Nrg Trance rooms were by far the best places to be all night.

Special mention to Juno, who read the crowd well and feed them back her enthusiasm in a really banging uplifting set. Raymondo, excellent as ever. I'm always fascinated by his consistency after all these years. I also heard good feedback about Marc Sinclair's set, which I have missed altogether, as I alternated between the chill out and Techno areas at that point in the night. Funnily some French ravers confused me with him! But I left them uncorrected as they were too happy and I was too messed up to be pedantic.

In the Chill-out we were entertained by: "Friends, Lovers and Family" who reminded me of Kamel Nitrate in style. Unfortunately they were badly served by the worst sound engineer in living memory, who delivered this pea soup of discordant noises and reverberated it with frightening consistency as they courageously trudged through their excellent material. Alas, they were not helped by one of their singers either, who persisted in singing off-key for most of the set. Yet to their credit they grooved along, regardless, supported by a faithful audience, cheering them all the way.

The truly champagne moment was to be found there in the guise of the "Sonic Sisters" in their cassocks - that's nun's outfits to the uninitiated but better known as Anarcho Funkeeters.
They Rocked da place! Can't say that the chill-out room was very chilled for all this mayhem, but no one seem to moan about it too much. I did get loads of complaints though, especially from "sweaties" who just wanted a break from the Trance and Techno when the band was playing. To be honest the seating was a bit poor, or should I describe it as lacking: that would be a fairer appraisal.Tucked away at the end of this room was a treatment bed with one healer/masseur. Yep, that was the healing space, not impressed, guys!

Well it's like they remembered at the last minute during planning that they were going to need something to fit the blurb on the flyer. It felt like an afterthought, hurriedly put together, shoved in a corner with no appropriate or soothing decor to give it some semblance of being a healing space; awful (sic!)
Now the decor wasn't great, apart from one in Techno room, with its mushroom sculptures framing the DJs area, the rest of SEOne was hit and miss. Individual pictures placed side by side in different sizes, up the walls and under the vaults, had little effect or impact and looked haphazard with no particular visual effort to make them work.

Overall "Imagine" was a groovy good night. And with a bit of fine-tuning, if it returns again to rave us beyond the cosmic rainbow; we are in for another quality night. The music and the people made it. That's for sure, and with Pickle and Pendragon, it always has potential to rock your dreary weeks away into a higher plane of upliftment.

© Le Mufti

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Unity crew thrives on joint projects with other promotions, in words of DJ Graham Ward, Unitys co-organiser, in a paranoia-free environment and by breaking the established genre and predictability of other events, which often result in creative stagnation.
Unity is putting this approach into practice by mixing up and coming talent with established performers so as to improve confidence and add fresh touch to the overall performance.

491 have multiple environments on offer, and I cruised through the night in discovery mode. Some amazing moments I shared with the mellow and friendly crowd. These people sure know how to party, without the stress of security or rules to spoil the feel of the place, as everyone looks after their own and newcomers like me. The vibe hits you at the door when you arrive, the welcome, as well as the environment has a subliminal quality that transcends every facet or aspect of it Gee I could live here form many years!!

It feels like entering a time capsule; a fluffy bubble floating in a haze of sensations. Theres always an assortment of different kinds of healing to be experienced in a well thought-out dcor with healers of Reiki, to massage and Tarot to refresh the body or soul.
Disco Patrick entertained us with 212 hours of exhilarating funky break-beats and trance, increasing the tempo as he became more and more up lifted by the overall vibe of the party goers. or is that nutters? I was aware that if you stay with him for his set you uncover gradually and subliminally that Disco element that gave him his name. He somehow seems to sandwich it in between the banging, and it works!

Dolly, was equally impressive as if riding the wave of that vibe with much joy and love of the craft. Yet she dwells in a harder _expression favouring the likes of Slipknot and Marilyn Manson and is a busy bee promoting her own nights in North London called "Rock the Dolly Rock! (Avant-garde/Nu Wave/ Punk/Rock)but that is a different scene as far as I am concerned. What she gave us on the night was more in keeping with the overall flow, thanks God!

DJ Graham was on hand to cool the night out, with his cleverly thought out mix of eclectic tunes from Under World to Nittin Sawney with a hint of classical thrown in. Weird? Well not really! It does work. A rich tapestry of sounds to drape yourself in.

At the back there is a sort of the garden and waste ground that combines a big enough space to have several bonfires. One is in a circular stepped pit. The last time I was there, I spent nearly all night socialising in the synergy of the pagan gathering around the fires, under a ceiling of the open star-lit sky to our communion of spirit.

I say, who can beat that? Well, invite me and I will come and check you out, whoever you are! To put it bluntly it wins over outdoor raves and and their unpredictable scenarios. It beats bollocks and inconveniences involved in trudging in the dark avoiding cows vomit, holes, hawthorns, rogue trees, and the local Bill prowling in the shrubs and stuff Know What I Mean! Ok, Ok! It can be fun as I hasten to add.

Along side 491 is Vertigo; a place with the tradition of staging acoustic sets and jamming bacchanalia. This time they had put on an eclectic mix of films through the night, like some early pieces from the Lumiere Brothers: the forefathers and pioneers of film making. Also they had cosy living room to chill out by the fireplace and linger in the mesmeric pull of the flames.
The evening has surreal elements to it. For instance, we were fortunate to be entertained by Jack the resident dog with his doggy accomplices. I never found out what he carried in these little red saddle bags that stayed glued to his back all night but he was well used to the shenanigans and well friendly. All they need now is a moody cat to sneer at everyone! Anyway next time you hear on da cosmic grapevine that there is a ting going on at 491, I recommend that you get round there sharpish! Otherwise Ill unleash the hounds! Alright?