This is a guest article by MG
Dark rooms filled with clubbers under hypnosis from beats and breaks
Friday
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It all began the week before. The much hyped, well planned trip to London by the Manchester posse was approaching the declaration of participation stage. By crunch time, the one space void that could be filled hadn’t been done so. Jim had paid for his hotel bed, but couldn’t attend. Fish paid for his bus fare, but couldn’t afford it. I could neither attend (papers on Sunday) nor afford it (skint due to car expenses this month), but decided to say ‘FUCK IT’ and go anyway.
As a consequence of my decision, I needed a) money and b) cover for papers. So I borrowed £80 of what I paid into the car expenses for the month and accepted an offer from Fish to cover for the Sunday round (to whom I am near-eternally grateful). Cue Friday night and I was stood on Ulverston’s train station platform after a relatively hectic day working both professionally and voluntarily, awaiting a train that would begin my voyage down to the capital. Of course, during this time, I came across a spate of things I had forgotten to carry out in preparation. Charged phone? Nah. Pointed out all of those hard to find houses to Fish for Sunday? No tick. Brought all of the money I had in my possession? Any food? Water? Directions from the Oxford Road to Chorlton? Hmm, this could get messy… Still, that was probably the whole point of the next 48 hours or so.
The latter of those problems was at least partly alleviated by Rob. A couple of text messages and a phone call on arrival and I was outside Manchester’s BBC Studio hoping for the #86 bus to come and pick me up. Naturally, it went sailing by (hysterics), but a quick gander at the timetable and a question to the locals when the #85 rolled up and I was on my way to Chorlton. I just had to work out which stop I needed to step off at. Thankfully, I got blabbering with a random posse of cricket enthusiasts who knew the area well. We got talking about England’s triumph in the Test Match against the Windies at Old Trafford a couple of years prior and before I knew it, they were hinting that my requested stop was near. Good stuff.
I landed at the HSBC bank, instantly knowing where I was. This was a very good thing. I made tracks to Rob’s and once in, sat with Steve-O and Rob whilst they battled it out on PES6. I sat back and drank Stella whilst laughing hard at the brilliant commentary from both computer and themselves (hysterics).
Since we were up early the next morning, it was imperative that we got plenty of sleep. That meant a post-12 finish, then (hysterics) – and even longer for Rob and Lydia as the latter was working later than planned and had amassed a 15+ hour employment day by the time she hit Keppel Road. I left Rob waiting and hit bed…
Saturday
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I awoke to the sound of Rob tapping on the door. 05:30AM. I didn’t want to rise, but knew that it was inevitable given the day ahead. So I got dressed, went downstairs and put the Ashes on… You can guess.
Getting to the Megabus stop required a taxi, so we hired one and got to the terminal at 06:15AM. That meant a 30 minute wait, which wasn’t ideal considering my tired condition! Not bringing any supplies meant a trip was due for water purchase, which wasn’t cheap at £1.10 for 500ml.
Then the bus arrived. Rob has scrawled down some codes that apparently were enough to let the four of us on, and once at the front of the queue, it was relatively plain sailing. Boarding the bus was, erm, interesting, as was found a converted replica of sommet like a double-decker #6, which was going to be highly uncomfortable for a 200ish mile journey! Once away, attempting to sleep proved highly difficult, with even my powers of adaptation proving relatively unsuccessful for the main (hysterics). However, once at Birmingham, we switched to a proper coach and all was well for the final ‘blast’ to the capital.
‘There’s Wembley!’ I cried, as the new arch came into view. What a nice surprise. It looked superb. Later came Lords (sweet), and the prestigious one-car garages on Park Road. We then arrived at our destination and went underground…
The London Underground instantly brought about some weird feelings. You know the ones… If you are a victim of a bombing down there you truly are fucked. Still, I wasn’t overwhelmed by this and carried on without worry. The tube is no different from when you see it on TV – another surprise, but is quite the achievement when you think about when it was developed and how important it is to the City. It is also smooth and rapid as (hysterics).
We reached our hotel destination, Bayeswater, a short deal afterwards. It looked like your average city centre, with our hotel only a couple of hundred yards away. Our hotel looked plush from the outside. As it also did from reception. Following this, though, was a stark contrast (hysterics). ‘Very’ and ‘basic’ could be attributed here. But then again, for £19 a night, you aren’t likely to get multiple star accommodation in London!
We dumped everything and headed straight out for some food. Unfortunately, we chose Burger King, which isn’t my favourite place to dine (hysterics), but two bacon cheeseburgers later and I was no longer hungry. Pub time.
You’d have expected me to start at this point, but I decided to wait until later. Wise move in the end. Pint -> Tube -> Camden. What a spot Camden is! Never seen owt like it. The market is highly diverse in every way, and the punters were out in full force to sample what delights were on offer. It was HEAVING. I bought some ridiculously strong orange juice that really woke me up (hysterics). Next stop, Tottenham. It was suitably rammed there as well, with walking slowly for long distances seemingly the order of the day… Erm, hang on! We shouldn’t be wearing ourselves out yet! We quickly decided on ‘pub’
We hit the tube once more and headed to Leicester Square. We found a Weatherspoon’s… Jackpot! It looked empty. Even better! Except, it was closed (hysterics). So we decided to hit the Yates’ next door. Expense time, no doubt. On entry, everyone in our party had to submit their ID for verification from a scanner machine! Madness.
Once in, I tried the new Becks Vier (after waiting 15mins at the bar), which was highly refreshing. Then it was onto this 5.5% Czech stuff that Carl highly recommended. This was warranted! During this time, we had found a nice corner to sit and have a laugh in. It was magic, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I wonder if similar things were around the corner?
The tube was our transportation device once more as we hit the hotel via KFC, which I thought to be a lot better than the Burger King prior, despite the fast-food part. The hot wings were mmmmm… Anyhow, our drinking progress was due to continue, so in the hotel we all convened in the bigger of our two rooms, wapped on one of Carl’s mixes and had an excellent craic. I love the pre-club atmosphere generated at these events – top drawer. That’s D.Ramirez at Sankey’s, Hybrid / Evil 9 / Zabiela at the Warehouse and the Fabric do in a month, now! The way it should be.
Following this period of preparation (i.e. suppage for me whilst the others dressed etc), we hit Farringdon and found this bar with some quality beats being played. Quality prices for drinks were being paid, too, with £3.60 a jar being the norm! I actually started to dance in parts, which was bad, considering I had a substantial period of time to do so when we hit the club. It was a great venue, and one that we will likely revisit when we hit Fabric again… Oops, musn’t say too much yet!
Then we hit Fabric. There was a queue to get in, but I don’t recall doing much of that – likely due to us having secured our tickets earlier. Once in, you travelled a small distance, and we managed to locate room 2. It was LOUD… The bass was shuddering through the floor and clubbers were already bouncing about to Terry Francis. The crew decided to chill for a bit, so we found a table and met up with some others who had similar ideas.
I decided to hit room 2 first. Due to the noise level, I attempted to find a ‘quieter’ section of the floor. As you may imagine, I had no luck, and eventually ended up dancing on the back of a stage with 4 or 5 other lads. I lasted a mere 30 minutes before I decided to head back to calmer confines. The 30 minute stint was good, but the sound levels were a little extreme to fully enjoy it all.
Another rest, then Room 1. This was to be the main area of the night for us. The room is, just, brilliant. No tricks / gimmicks are in here, just lots and lots of smoke, no primary lighting, a FANTASTIC laser light system that properly mesmerises, lots of punters and a soundsystem that beautifully complimented what was being thrust into it. I was endeared, I think I was in love. Its such a great place for the music I do love.
The ‘warm-up’ DJ was excellent. He played a collection of beats that had the crowd totally under his spell. Then Cobblestone Jazz came on, who others thought to be a bit too mellow, but I thought complimented the whole scenario well. It certainly wasn’t mellow, anyway! It was at this point where I discovered room 3 upstairs, which was slightly eclectic and a bit of a departure from room 1 for mine, so I headed back.
Then Craig Richards finally came on. He didn’t do very much, really. He was just consistent for 2 hours solid. But within that consistency was something called ‘build’. Mr Zabiela did it at Sankey’s in February this year. Onlookers would think ‘boooring’, whilst I was convinced a shift in gear wasn’t too far away. You just had to wait…
And then it came. Goodness me, what the hell those noises were, I have no idea. They were totally hypnotising. They were uber-weird, but ridiculously infectious. It was hands in the air – not in the ‘larging it’ frame, but more in the area of orchestral conduction. Richards was conducting his own orchestra with the amazing sounds that he derived from his tools. The latter part of his set, like Zabiela’s in February, was just absolute glory all of the way and was worth all the money I’d paid for the trip and more. Spectacular, awe-inspiring and one of my favourite sets I am likely to hear. If my body was running out of energy and my legs starting to wane, then Richards was the force that drove me onward towards close. At one point, Rob looked tired and seemingly was about to leave when WHAM, Richards delivered a staggering array of goods in emphatic style. That spot is a place for masters, and Richards has certainly mastered that room. I cannot emphasise how much I love that spot.
And then it came to an end. Richards got a highly-deserved ovation. But wait! On came Mathew Johnson for the finale. However, Marco Carola was on in room 2 (something I had totally forgotten about at this point), so I grabbed some more water and headed that way.
Carola has mixed a Fabric CD, and was on it as soon as I entered. Amazingly, the lighting system in there could be deemed as even better than room one’s with the main laser being multi-coloured and an absolutely joy to feast your eyes on. It was 06:30AM and I was still going strong, still lapping up every minute, still abundant with energy from the brain, telling my body to keep going regardless of any rational thought that may hinder. Carola came up with a piece of absolute GENIUS when it sounded as though he’d completely lost a mix, only to rescue it perfectly via an amazing sequence of beats and bleeps that I wish I could sample again. He is talented, that’s for sure.
And then we left. 06:45AM – very good going. Once out, we were collared by this taxi driver, who charged 7 of us £35 to get back to Bayeswater. This was 25mins of HARD driving away (he didn’t fuck about – there’s a junction. Brake. Brake. BRAKE… (slams on brake)), but this gave us a few more minutes sleep – which was vital for the 2 hours we were permitted before kick-out time.
Sunday
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Sunday was long, with a multiple-hundred mile journey back up to Ulverston ahead. First off, I grabbed a ‘breakfast bun’ from this outlet in Bayeswater. Except the shop I went in didn’t do ‘breakfast buns’ like they advertised externally, so I ended up with a toasted cheese, chicken and ketchup sandwich. Not bad considering, as I wasn’t in the mood for much anyway. I also had a stuffed Jacket Potato from a pub prior to the journey back, which was worth the £3.50 spent on it.
By the time I’d hit Manc again, I had to wait for 40 minutes for my train home. Then when I hit Ulverston, I found out that Chelsea had snatched a late winner and United had lost to make the gap 2. It’s tight, but we’re ahead. Just like the Fabric crew.
This is a guest article by MG, imported from Wordpress. Please ignore the 'author/contributor/posted-by' tag on this post, which is incorrect.
