4 March 2010

NUNCA NUNCA - London - 3rd December 94

After two, er, slightly disappointing parties the NN crew needed a good one to reassure themselves that God was not a complete and utter bastard. So the burning question tonight was, did they manage it? Well, let's look at the evidence. Sunny Woolwhich and a new club, only 5 weeks old, was the venue sought. It turned out to be the same club that our chum Clive FX was resident DJ at! "He's no longer with us", said the co-owner, a nattily dressed, bespectacled, leather-trousered, floral waistcoat wearer, pushing his late 40's. "Let's just say, a disagreement"(oh dear.) Welcome back to the wonderful world of overworked (?), underground, low paid (if) DJ obscurity, Clive.The clubs Jungle night on Fridays "doin' all right". House and garage on Saturday "no comment". In step NN, the first house crew to aquire the Saturday. And the first crew to probably pack it.As you walk in through the glass door the lobby looks like santas grotto or, as some wag put it "like the reception at Pebble Mill". Through a double door and two choices. Right, the smaller room of the two, has a bar running down one wall. A cloak room cum sweet shop (lollies stuck in gishes like unlit roll-ups). Toilets. Some stairs up to the chill area and balcony overlooking the big room. Crammed in between all this avoiding the two way cloak-room and toilet traffic and the poles in the centre of the dancefloor was, fuck me, masses of people crammed together, relaxing, having a dance. The walls are covered in lumpy plastic with green glitter on (I kid ye not). A few backdrops here and there fail to cover it completely. It is, to be honest, quite fetching in a naff but nice sort of a way. Much better than, say, oil. The DJ's play a cool selection of bouncy garage, US dub workouts and the occasional vocal.To the left, up a ramp, through a no mans land where the two systems, er, overlap, is the main, box like cavernous arena with a 2 - 300 capacity. The DJ's, much to their embarrassment, plonked centre stage. There for all the world to see. Now most DJ's (massive sweeping statement coming up) are a tad inadequate, insecure, rather shy and retiring types who shun the limelight. (Recognition and limelight, of course, being two very different concepts.) They are much happier stuck in a dark corner where they can get on with it in peace. Leaves more room for us to dance in any way. And saves them exhibiting behaviour similar to a rabbit trapped in an oncoming cars headlights. Exacerbated if the particular DJ is artificially stimulated. Which of course they never are.Later they were seen wincing, as the stage, crowded with dancers, moved disturbingly up and down causing that most undesirable of occurrences. A jumping record. Still, we were all having such a good time it didn't really matter.The music here was a lot mellower than yer average banging, yawn inducing, "London Party". Thank fuck. This is where the Nunca's stand out from the crowd. And this is why we are all here. To support their stance and have a good dance. They have a loyal, well dressed, slightly older crowd, who look like they know how to enjoy themselves. And if 7am, when the plug was pulled, is anything to go on that statement could only be true. They could have gone on at least another two or three hours. Bags of energy and bags of positive attitude ensured that NN consolidated themselves thoroughly. If their New Years Eve shindig goes well, and Magnificent Maurice sound man extraordinaire assures that it "will be a bit special", then they could well emerge the top dogs of the London underground house scene as '95 kicks in and another full and frank year of shit faced frolics commences with gusto.After the party we went to sunny Brixton for some fly-posting frolics, Second site and a pig van drives past the street. We just have time to see the brake lights before turning on our heels and fleeing. Too late. Caught paste handed. After a ticking off we are advised not to take up a life of crime because we're crap.We knew that anyway.

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