We are still going to lose Eurovision

So a couple of days ago, everyone who thinks that the Eurovision contest is important got all excited about headlines like this one that implied that the Great British Public (known connoisseurs of good musical taste) were actually going to have something to do with the selection of the song that will represent us to Europe. Yup, for a brief few seconds we actually thought that we might get to find and pick a blinder of an act (rather than raid the colonies for a ringer) that could go forth to Johnny Foreigner and show them what the British Music scene has to offer (from a selection of acts that don't want to risk the career suicide of 'nil pois').

Only it's not going to help at all, in any way, due to two major reasons. Firstly, the songs entered (of which I assume there will be many containing nothing but expletives) have to go through the OGAE, i.e. the largest collection of people in this country who have sat through every Eurovision ever, including the secret ones where Wogan started demanding whisky and launch codes. These are people who have bought into the chintz of Eurovision to the point of being willing to spend £15.00 a year in the internet age to get a magazine about one of the most heavily promoted and publicised events out there. They are indoctrinated into and educated in the ways of Eurovision, the voting cycles and the tactics, the politics and the power-plays. Fundamentally, these are the people who would tell Lordi to turn it down or be worried that Conchita Wurst would upset the Russians too much, so the chances of an outsider or oddball choice is instantly gone as they focus on what will get "The Win".

So once anything that is either new, exciting, or edgy (i.e. most of the music coming from anything even vaguely not-top-30) is binned, we get the barrier of  "a professional panel and the public". The first bit sounds nice, but then you remember that professional panels were also why Electro Velvet, Scooch, Daz Sampson, Blue and other such aberrations were allowed to ever be thought "a good thing". Plus, because it'll be on the BBC and thus the decision process will be gunning for TV viewer eyes, it means the panel will include "names" like the git-demon Wil.I.Am, who will be going out of their way to make 'bold decisions' to promote their own agenda, rather than thinking "can we win this?" And then "the public" roll in, specifically the aforementioned TV viewing public. The kind of people who watch the X-Factor or The Voice for "the drama", which basically means someone having a good sob story or being attractive in a trying-hard way. Talent, beyond a certain base level, won't be the issue - it'll be about likeability.

So, after several months of being promised that we might actually win this time and that it's really going to be different, we are going to get something that is scientifically selected to win last year's event, that has been vetted by people more interested in their own next album, and then approved by people who fundamentally wanted to watch Eastenders but with a bit more of a tune. And then folks will wonder why we hit the bottom and ask if we can just bring in a ringer again.

Of course it's easy (and fun) to mock, Eurovision is an easy target for awfulness  But there is a way that this could all be fixed and it's an incredibly easy one: actually let the public decide. Have an open list, have anyone be able to enter a song if they want, and then let people vote directly from that list. Have one big show where you announce the winner if you want, and then have the experts work with them to spruce up whatever it is they are going play to the absolute peak of it's potential (you can make a documentary out of it if you want). But make it actually picked by the public, actually representative of the British Public. Because if we lose, it will be on our own terms - but if we win, it will be something we can actually be proud of for more than five minutes.

Breakout Festival - Brighton Racecourse - 26.09.2015

It's not often you associate Brighton with heavy metal & hard rock, but from going along to the Second annual Breakout Festival it's quite clear that they go together as well as ice-cream and beach walks (well, the type that leave you happy, tired, and somewhat deaf). It's also quite clear from having attended this years event that the organisers know how to operate an efficient band-packed event, and that the local scene is filled to the brim with friendly folk out to have a splendid time of it all. And by "all" I mean 14 bands for the outrageously low price of £27.50 (including booking fee), starting at 10:40 and finishing almost 12 music-soaked and fist-pumped hours later.

Opening up was We Deny, a quality pop-punk outfit that managed to pull people in through a combo of ridiculous amounts of energy for that time of the morning and a clear talent for catchy tunes. It was "light, but filling" in the best of ways, getting my feet tapping and face smiling before the first bite of coffee. Quite frankly, if you're under 25 and have even the slightest interest in being happy about things, then put this on your car stereo and just drive off to adventure.

And, whilst it was impressive being that happy at 10:40am, hats go off to Skint Circus for being so utterly pissed off at 11:20 when they rolled out their thick, sweaty, and highly energetic take on hardcore punk with breakdowns, beatdowns, and throwdown flying over the places almost as much as their singer did. Their lead guitarist didn't move much though, he just stood there in a suit jacket looking unnervingly cool. A band with that much anger has a lot to give, and I look forward to hearing more from them.

Next up was Seething Akira, a band who appear to have bridge the existential gap between Enter Shikari and The Midnight Beast. From their jolly intro of "Hello" to their rave-metal bouncing noise, this was everything you could ask for from a band that have one front man who looks like a young Alan Moore in a Lionel Richie t-shirt and another that you could envision your sister politely introducing to your mother. By song two they were both in the crowd, giving things a runaround - kicking off a moshpit conga line, sneaking a cheeky go on the bouncy castle near the stage, all the time accompanied by blood-pumping party revolution rawk. All of this meant that when they asked the question "Have you all had a nice time?" and gave the quippy "That makes us very happy" after the cheer, it came across as honest rather than affected, and just added to the fun factor that was washing over everyone. They have a single coming out, get it and then try to see them live.

The Gospel Youth had a tough act to follow, and their more laid back, radio friendly, alt-rock approach was a good switch of pace from what had come before. Touches of Gaslight Anthem, the odd bit of Fall Out Boy, mostly just solid rock played in a no nonsense fashion. Whilst their look was the most regimented and sculpted of the day so far they were perfectly willing to just let the music and the lyrics do the work for them, so whilst they didn't get much motion out in the slowly growing crowd there were clearly a lot of ears open taking it all in.

Another set, another change in style, something that seems to be the make of Breakout with a very broad range of the church of rock on display. By Definition were the next brotherhood on display, and they had come to give some very hard lessons on the benefits of blues based, groove heavy, slow and steady heavy rock. It was slow, it was steady, it was raunchy, and it was delivered with the restraint of a grizzly bear. Pretty much instantly everyone in the area started smelling of strong liquor and began tapping their hands, feet, heads, and assorted other appendages as the growling, swirling, bass-to-the-guts overload was hammered out.

Zoax were up next and rapidly pitched their tent as a screamo version of The Pixies with a heavy sound that saw more peaks and valleys than a bus going off the cliff in Wales. They also almost had the same visual impact on the stage at times, as all three of the guitarists were throwing their instruments around with so much abandon their mothers would have been worried someone would lose their whole head. Desperate to the crowd moving, their singer Adam stalked the pit like a demon whilst throwing his heart and lungs into every lyric. Not to sure on the safety of bringing a cabled mic into the thick of it, but no-one got hurt and it certainly added to the drama. Then he came over to the table we were sat at and he pinched my hat, so that's one to tell the Godparents once these guys make it big.

Then, for lack of a better term, Black Tongue happened. They just walked on stage, started playing something that sounded like five doom and death metal tracks all at once, hated everything in front of them for even existing for about half an hour, and then headed off. Occasionally they introduced a song with some horror movie sound track but other than that it was just "bang and gone". They even had a guest vocalist for one track that just walked on, screamed, and headed off. Like it, don't like it: they clearly did not have one fuck to give regards your opinion of what they did. Obviously the people who were into it loved it, whilst everyone else seemed a bit bemused. I'm assuming that was the intention. The only down side to their set was the sound techs not being up to task, as there was feedback and pops through out, which was a shame for an otherwise precision performance.

Representing the kind of  poetic, polemic, and curiously swinging hardcore that seems to grow in London, TRC bounded on with the goal of kicking up a riot and ensuring everyone had fun doing it. It was shouty, it was bouncy, it had riffs and energy you could listen to for days. It also had the line of "If you've got some energy, do it. If not, then get to the gym" and the request for the pit to get "a bit like strictly come dancing". The thrash-ier bits were intense, and all over, it got everyone up for a good time that showed the old school have still got it.



Shunning the simple pleasures of music, like tune or melody or even apparent structure, Heck (aka Baby Godzilla) landed next and dropped out a lot of sounds in about half the time you would think it humanly possible. Some might call it mathcore, or extreme jazz, or "all the notes ever, sometimes twice", or "Cream force-fed Napalm Death from birth"  but mostly it was just an exhilarating exploration of what you can do when you say 'no' to almost every rule ever. I'm not going to claim to understand it, but it was compelling and enjoyable like some intricate puzzlebox, especially with the bands determination to hammer their instruments and play them anywhere other than the stage. It was also impressive to watch as there was no-one obviously holding the songs together, but regardless of how far everyone flew off in which direction it kept on coming back to one central point, Oh yeah, and they hate microphone stands. I saw three of them laid waste in the first track alone.

Martyr Defiled hit the stage next, playing something that sounded halfway between death metal and blastbeat-based hardcore. Sadly the performance almost instantly got hit by bad sound, so nothing came across with as much bite as it should have, in the first track. The sense of terror was further eroded by their vocalist sounding so amiable and friendly when talking between tracks, as someone who sounds that devilish when singing, should not instantly strike you as someone you would share cocoa with. It was technically proficient but the performance side wasn't theatrical or passionate enough to really grab up and hold you in its fist.

Finishing up the last of the daylight were The Qemist, a raging slab of power is pitched halfway between The Prodigy and Pendulum, but with enough of their own sound to not sound like a dodgy knock-off. From the off they had everyone bouncing to their uplifting sounds and welcoming stage presence. A couple of the callouts and platitudes to the crowd may have been a tad bit cheesy, but everyone was smiling too much to be offended and they all knew it was meant well. Still, you can't argue with the crowd and they managed to get a huge response as everyone rocked out to their rebel party anthems.

And then night was upon us, and as the stage lights kicked in We Are The Ocean took the stage and played something halfway between alt-rock and dad-rock. It was good for what it was, including a brave attempt at Dazed and Confused (a fifty year old song for a crowd that was mostly under twenty five), it's just that it was too much of a change from what had gone on before through the day. The crowd dwindled visibly, the cold started to suck at people's energy, and though there were moments that landed some response from those left behind, they never landed well enough to convince me they were the right pick for that point in the day.

When Sikth got on stage there was a resurgence in numbers, mostly from the bar, as this was clearly a band that a lot of people had been looking forward to see. Whilst I wasn't aware of the band before today I can clearly see why people like their brand of prog-metal: it's loud, it's fast, it's filled with virtuosity, and it's almost certain to piss off your parents. It was also a highly energetic and frantic performance, which got picked up by the crowd and resulted in a lot of bodies thrashing around & building up a sweat. Personally I liked the spoken-word piece the most, as it was totally unexpected and yet fitted in perfectly with everything else before and after, and a fair chunk of the audience dug it as well. For a band doing their first gig of the year in September, they had clearly been doing more than just practising their tunes. If you are of the progressive music persuasion, then grab a ticket to whenever they play within travelling distance of you.

The day was drawn to a close by Deaf Havana and their brand of alternative rock, which sadly seemed to miss the mark of what the crowd were after in a similar vein to We Are The Ocean if the madly diminished audience was anything to go by. Those who stayed had a lovely time, listening to some heartfelt tunes and rocking singalongs, but for a lot of people it was either time for bed after an incredibly long day in the sun or just not their thing after the prog-metal blowout that had hit them before.

Still, with that much range and at that price, you can't have everything your way. However, you can have an incredibly well-organised and perfectly sized event, completed by a pleasant crowd and utterly pleasant staff.  They was also the bonus of all the bands hanging out in the audience, so you could be both encouraged that they are actually real people who got up and did it, as well as get the chance to go up and say "thanks for the music". Book your tickets for 2016, because it's going to be worth it.

Overkill Over Analysed

A wise man once said of rock music,
          "Don't analyse it, man. Don't try to understand it, just enjoy it at face value". 

That man was Lemmy of the mighty Motorhead, a band famed for having released possibly the greatest and most well known Heavy Metal track of the last 30 years: The Ace Of Spades. It is a song that has been used to sell things from cars to snack food, a song referenced as a go-to 'look at the long hairs!' sting, and a song they consistently play as the second to last track at each of their shows. It is a great song, but it has overshadowed the song they consistently end on: I refer to the lesser known, often overlooked, and the literally show stopping Overkill.

But why is it such a great song and what is it about it that makes it such a perfect way to end an hour and a half of concert? I wanted to put this into words, because whilst it may look and sound very simple, there is a hell of a lot going on that deserves closer inspection.

First, the intro. Starting on a solid, speedy, hammering drum rift which essentially stays the same through the whole song, we have 16 bars of pure, primal pounding. Nothing flash, kick drums and cymbals laying down a 4/4.  Then the first guitar kicks in for another 16 bars, a bass riff sounding more like a rhythm guitar and made of two notes being hammered away with more boogie than you can find in some pop-'funk' albums. Next spirals in the lead guitar, diving down and joining the bass for another 16 bars of raw rock and roll with a similarly limited set of notes in perfect accompaniment: simplicity given form and drive, an announcement of the power trio in it's most on target glory. To paraphrase Sun Ra: anyone can play it, only a genius can write it. The tune continues, almost without variation, through the first verse and chorus.

"The only way to feel the noise is when it's good and loud"
A straightforward observation on the live music experience, but the usage of "noise" bringing a truth to the levels involved at a Motorhead performance and of the oeuvre of Heavy metal as a whole. Also "when it's good and loud" carries the mixed meaning of the music being of a high standard and the pure quantity of output having a positive quality all of it's own. This is not simple language, this is simple words used as poetry.

"So good I can't believe it, screaming with the crowd"
A line that captures the duality of the concert goer in that you experience it as an individual whilst feeding off everyone else there. It also gives permission to let it all go, to just express emotion in an incoherent level, a rock and roll tradition from the bobby-sock era reborn and given validity. The usage of "I" is important though, as it also bridges the gap between the performer and the audience, bringing them in as a whole. This is a unified experience, the singer working with the people who have come to listen and be an active part of what is happening. The line is critical, as it binds everyone together.

"Overkill, Overkill, Overkill"
A word by itself, perfectly expressing a multitude. Excessive, over what is required, but carrying a certainty of completion with it. Could everything until this point have been laid down quieter, slower, and with more complication? Yes, but it would not have been as good.

Under a minute in and it's time for the first bridge. The backline keeps things as before, but the guitar jazzes things up a bit - however, importantly, not too much. The core sound is still there, the tempo and attack has not restrained or reset itself. It's the musical equivalent of a minute's straight dash, exhausting but exhilarating. And then the second round begins.

"On your feet you feel the beat, it goes straight through your spine"
Motorhead have, on many occasion, held the official title of "worlds loudest band" so this is quite possibly a literal statement of what the audience is experiencing on a purely acoustic level. But the second section also expresses the release and euphoria many feel at such times. The tendency to foot tap to a beat, the urge to do things when highly motivational music comes on, and the endorphins release associated with music as a whole.

"Shake your head"
A clear reference to headbanging, the hallmark of heavy metal fan appreciation, and an extension of the original 'rocking out' that accompanied the earlier hard rock and heavy rock from which Motorhead came (and were the source of the term, as per the "Motorheadbangers" collective noun for their fans).

"You must be dead, if it don't make you fly"
Testament again to the euphoria gained from the live experience, but with more of the synthesis of the event. What will make you fly? Both the music and the engagement with the music. Also a brag as to the uplifting and inclusive nature of what is going on. Only the dead won't be excited by this song, but it is an un-rarefied experience open to all.

"Don't sweat it, Give it back to you"
There is no need to worry, the band will give unto the audience as well as the audience giving unto them. Again, the experience is not one way, or even two way. This is a group effort - a social event.

"Don't sweat it, Give it back to you"
Seriously guys, we're all going to have a great time.

"Overkill, Overkill, Overkill"
Further restatement of the overall impact of what is happening, and the set up to the second bridge. This time the lead guitar is a bit more wild, a bit more free. But still the backline is locked in tight, unbreaking at the minute and a half mark - then be rejoined at the two minute point for another couple of rounds of the main hook, before the final set of lyrics

"Know your body's made to move. Feel it in your guts"
No instruction on how you should move, but pure license to move in any manner you want. By now you should be lifted, you should be elated, and on a primal level you will be acting how you see fit. Action is the key, to what end is down to the individual.

"Rock 'n' roll ain't worth the name, if it don't make you strut"
A key line, possibly the most important and certainly worthy as the finishing statement. This is Rock & Roll, pure and simple. This is Blues, bubbled through fifty years and mutated through a Marshall stack, but it's rock and roll - and it needs to make you feel good. This is a gauntlet thrown down to others, this is a testament to everything you have heard in the show and it is the final closing endorsement of all previous markers highlighted in the song. Right here, right now, this is how rock and roll makes you. Anything else is a shame - accept no substitutes.

"Don't sweat it, get it back to you
Don't sweat it, get it back to you
OVERKILL, OVERKILL, OVERKILL"
A re-enforcement of the above, a final sing along of passion, a final one word chant that carries volumes with efficiency.

Lyrics sung, we have the finale. The guitarist is let loose, unrestrained but still running with the pack, darting around the unstoppable force of the drums and bass. They have done so little but it has filled vast voids, given the six-stringer the backing needed to highlight and carry it's work. Then the first tempo change, the first deviation from the last 180 seconds of breakneck rocking. Things slow, the notes are fewer, the cymbals are pounded in the classic marker that it is all done. Slightly over the regulation 3 minutes for a pop-song, but still on form for a classic.

But wait, it was a ruse! The drums start again, the same loop and the same pressure. We are literally back to the start of the song, as all the parts fill in again for another round. A second rush of steam, although with a more intense guitar lead from the off. Unleashed, unbound, unburdened by needs for words. You know everything there is to know about what will happen now, there is no need for communication as all there is is understanding. The band are off, the audience are off, it's pell-mell to the real finishing line! One last huzzah, one more minute of life at it's best. Then over, done, spent.

...Not really. It's called "Overkill", not "just enough". The pounding starts again, the engine now running on empty. The band gave it their all, the listener gave it their all, how can anything else be dragged up? Well, it is rock and roll so we best get going with it even if we are running on fumes. The bass and the lead are more urgent, still working the core tune like sirens going off. Rabid and exhausted, the song almost doubled in length from anything that previously seemed the requirement. And then, finally, a ridiculous five minutes after it all began, the actual conclusion of the song that has left you shattered and unable to go any further.

Although, with the live version - it does. The band leaves the stage, but their instruments continue though strength of pure feedback, the music no longer needing to be anything but literal force and presence. The wash over the crowd is total, nothing can be heard other than the aftermath of what has come before, a post orgasmic chill that can continue under its own existence, an adrenaline rush given musical form. You have survived, you have experienced - and you are going to have it ringing in your ears for days, as the concert, the rock and roll explosion, continues to be a part of your life from there on.

Ace of Spades is the classic, it's is the jab that startles and delights, but like all "one, two" combos, it is the second blow that floors you - and that does the real work.

Bad Magic - Motörhead

If a 69 year old man with a walking stick walked up to you in the street and yelled "Victory or Die" in your face you would. most likely, be worried. When Lemmy does it at the start of Motörhead's twenty-third album it just sends a shiver down your spine and locks you in for fourty-two minutes of high-speed rock and roll. That the album entered the charts at Number 10 in the UK (and similar high ranking elsewhere) is a testament to both the recognition that the band have achieved for being one of the true underground legends of rock and roll. and of the raw quality of the album itself.

Of the songs there is not much more that can be said than "the worlds finest speed-freak rock-and-roll", which is like saying "Mozart just did good classical music" or "Jimi Hendrix could play a tune". It's four-bar blues through Marshall amps, songs about love and sex and death and everything in between, and you're supposed to feel it rather than intellectualise or 'understand' it. Fundamentally if this video doesn't put a smile on your face and make you go "that's me when no-one is looking, that is!" then don't bother (and, possibly, radically reassess your ability to enjoy life).

On top of that the stand out tracks for me were Fire Storm Hotel, which was AC/DC with the engine in the red, Electricity, which sounded had their 80's era proto-thrash grind, and Teach Them to Bleed that has so much boogie to it you could see Elvis giving it a shot. There was also Till The End, the slowest of the collection and also the one most likely to bring a tear to your eye because it seems to be the lyrical explanation of Lemmy's stubborn refusal to take a break and not die on stage. The finishing cover of Sympathy For The Devil is also rather good, and shows off the raw musical talents of the whole band. Who knows, maybe Keith Richards will show up at one of their shows and join in on it; after all Brian May joined them for Overkill and does guitars on The Devil for this album so anything is possible.

Whilst it's pointless to argue if it's their finest album (tradition says it always either "the first one I heard" or "Ace of Spades") it's mighty addition to their catalogue and, given Lemmy's recent health problems, if it's the last one they play live it will be a fitting final blast.

The Decline of Western Civilisation Collection

Over the course of 17 years, Penelope Spheeris has created arguably one of the greatest and most influential music documentary series ever. Set in Los Angeles and covering the punk scene of the late 70s, the heavy metal scene on mid 80s, & the gutter-punk scene at the turn of century, it explores the sound, performance, politics and business, that exist around each of these worlds and times. It's style was naturalistic, inquisitive, unobtrusive, and at times brutally honest, which was eloquent and effective enough to eventually become part of the DNA of everything that has followed - with clear impact on Reality TV and the rockumentaries of MTV & VH1.

At the core of each film is, fittingly, live performances which are used as showcases for the scenes by giving equal focus for those on stage and off. The style is naturalistic, observational, and intriguing as anthropological documents. They also sound great, even if not all of the bands presented are actually that good. Interspersed with this are interviews with a broad range of individuals involved: musicians, fans, promoters, businessmen and police/authority figures giving the scene outsider/"every-man" view of it all. The iconic set of the blank wall with a single, bare light-bulb hanging at head-height is used extensively, evocative and beautifully simple as it allows the focus to be directly on the individual and their words. Being set in LA it also has plenty of car-based drive-along interviews, which provide the bulk of representation of the city outside of the venues or scene-controlled spaces, giving impressive visual insight into the urban environment that helped shaped the action of the piece. It also demonstrates how super-imposed the scenes are, hyper-stylized worlds pushed up against the realities of everyone else's everyday lives.

Although unified in style and approach, the content of the three is distinct and unique, giving each the flavour they merit. Part 1 has the largest variety of musical styles and shows a scene carving its way into the wider world on it's own terms and with a new sensibility of DIY. Part 2 shows a more homogeneous visual and musical approach and people unapologetically chasing financial success that the other two don't even think about as a possibility or goal, and Part 3 presents a nihilistic and often harrowing focus of fans living a vagrant life which they see no reason to attempt escaping.  Through all this, the topics stay the same: sex, drugs, rock and roll, what will youth be doing in 5 years, is it all worth it, if the goal is art of money, and how people enter into the tribes that they have aligned themselves with. But the changes in the answers are telling, the reasons and motivations changing in each era.

Picking a favourite or "best" is impossible, as each is it's own story. Part 3 is easily the most emotionally upsetting, dealing as it does with homeless under 18's who have basically given up on life as a concern and with 2 deaths happening among those interviewed whilst the "lucky kid" is someone in a wheelchair as they get to have a flat. Part 2 is the most entertaining, with the glam extravagance and heavy metal stupidity being instantly comedic. Part 1 tells the most optimistic story and has the widest range of motivations to be explored.

But the key thing is that these are three fantastic social history documents that are able to carry the interest of anyone who watches it, regardless of their opinions of the music being explored, as they go beyond the successes or failures of individual artists or the benefits or durability of a scene. They are regularly considered classics of the musical-documentary genre because it's something that no-one else thought about capturing, and they have been captured with care, attention and consideration. They offer an insight into real, relatable people, and not just three rocking concert soundtracks.

The imminent death of nightclubs: My2p

So the fact that nightclub are closing all over the show finally hit the headlines today, about 5 years after everyone involved in the industry knew that it was happening, and a myriad of reasons as to why it's happening have been put forth. Of the ones flying around, mostly from people who can't remember the last time they put their head in a club, for the biggest one is "because pubs can now stay open into the small hours". And, worryingly, they're right. 

11pm till 11:30pm used to be the golden hours at many a club, when it went from all but a few dedicated clubbers (or, in a rock club, those who turned up for the "Shite Death & Thrash Hour") to rammed and buzzing. These days any set before midnight has a good chance of being thought of as a warm-up slot for the new guy, which says a lot about why people used to go out and makes you wonder how important the music ever actually was.  However there is a second reason that a lot of these folks are missing out on: a lot of pubs are now also nightclubs in and of themselves. Whilst not all of them have a dancefloor (though a growing number do), they will often have a nightclub grade sound-system and a some kind of DJ providing the tunes. So this isn't so much a change in consumer habits as it is in product availability for the portion of the market that liked expensive booze, deafening music, and shouted conversation.

Speaking of product availability, another big reason cited is that everyone is going off to festivals. "We can see all the DJs in one place over three days!" they say. This is true, but there is a silent "whilst off our tits on lashings and lashings of drugs!!" which isn't being spoken of. Whilst drugs in clubs are still available and consumed it has, in the majority of instances, become a more tricky proposition. Councils have been enforcing drug policies harder, which encourages clubs to do more monitoring and ejecting of people off theirs heads than before (plus there is a recession on, so a lot of clubs would rather you bought their booze than someone else's pills), especially at the smaller venues (which, often, the council are looking for an excuse to close down. More on that later). Add to this the outright prohibition on the countries' favorite illegal substance due to the smoking ban and it's a situation where the "true experience" can only be safely enjoyed in a field with 10,000 other people (though I'm not sure what's safe about being blitzed out of this world in a mudbath).

Next up you have people talking about the costs. Which is sensible, as nightclubs are bloody expensive to run. However the biggest issue isn't so much the running costs, it's the opportunity costs. Because, financially, nightclubs might as well be run on a foundation of burning money. No-one in their right mind would start a discussion with a bank manager by going "I want to hire a really large amount of floorspace but I only want to open it from when a lot of people are thinking about going to sleep till when people are either asleep or thinking about waking up. Oh, and I want it to be half full for most of the week and unusable during the day because of the smell that that many people dancing generates.". Obviously a number of venues get around this problem, using their sites during the day. But not everywhere has the ability to do that successfully, or without vast investment, and however you plan it there is going to be a "switch-over" time that is a financial deadzone when a lot of potential money is walking on by. On top of this is the amount of money that could be made from the venue (often in an attractive part of town, or somewhere cheap) by redevelopment (see Eddie's in Birmingham). Even if your venue isn't that tasty a prospect, it's presence can screw up developments in the area (Ministry of Sound is a prime example), or just piss off the neighbors a lot. 

This is where the councils come in by the way, because they really don't like nightclubs at the moment. For whatever reason (pissed people making noise) they get way upset at nightclubs and are, according to some, "attacking the night-time economy". They aren't though, they are just attacking the part that has a whole load of people all leaving at the same time and in the same state (pissed and making noise). Late night pubs have more of a steady flow in and out, even if they have the same problems (making noise whilst pissed, seriously can folks not just learn not to yell or throw-up when leaving a venue?!), so they don't get so much trouble.

Another popular pundit choice is technology and The Internet! Specifically Tinder, the popular "dating" app. Personally I don't think that app alone makes that big a difference, however the technology issue is certainly an issue and dating apps/services as a whole will certainly have an impact. However the true story includes the increase of alternative digital distractions as a whole to going out on a Friday night, the growth of music distribution meaning you can now hear anything from any scene almost anywhere, and, quite importantly, the continued drop in the price of a sound system and lights. For five hundred quid / the price of a top of the range mobile phone you can have a mobile sound and lights rig, so why go out to a club when you can just setup at a friends house, a pub backroom, or somewhere out of town. It's not quite the resurgence of the 80's rave scene, but it's having it's impact on the traditional locations.

So, many, many reasons. And many, many club getting shut down. But is it a bad thing, beyond the loss of trade and jobs? Is it not just another phase in the ongoing changes that have been happening since the dawn of time? In many ways "yes", because nightclubs aren't going to die out as a whole and music nights are still going to be able to carry on in other locations. A lot of lazy venues, who didn't keep up with the trends, are going to be shut down or modified into late-pub style affairs (or even, horror of horrors, trendy bars! Which, as the high-street retail sector dies it's painful death, are going to be the phone-store and coffee-shop plague of the next decade),. It's part of the eternal cycle of popularity, the swing from one thing to another. The same happened with swing clubs and jazz hops and disco and even raves. Things just move on and change, and in this case they have changed because people who weren't that into the music side of the clubs have now got a whole raft of alternatives available to them. The market has changed, because it's quite possible the market was never actually there.

But, and this is a big but, it is sign of removal of a hell of a lot of small and medium sized venues (regardless of how good or well managed they may be) as the market switches to the Big and Super venues as being the only viable prospect in the bulk of places, and the death of those venues is another marker of the entrenchment of the Eternal Now, as niche scenes fail to have the chance to make it big. Micro-venues may continue to be the spawning grounds of new things, but without the small and middle sized places for them to grow and mature there is so much less hope of making it into the remaining big and super clubs (even on a Wednesday!). Small and medium sized venues are, for a number of folks, social nexus's where they could meet people from their same style tribes. Micro venues are often feared to be too cliquey, big or super ones too intimidating (or just too large for a scene to even consider being able to fill it).  With these going that facility is gone, and whilst we can pretend that we are a more accepting world it means that people in the more outsider and alternative style tribes can't go out as themselves. 

On top of this distinct youth movements like we have seen over the last 60 years won't happen in or be centered around the music, they will be tried out at festivals and online - but I'm honestly worried they will either be too broad an appeal to actually be exciting, or too niche to ever get traction. Music might get picked up by the movements to come, but it won't be the driving force of it. I hope I'm wrong, I hope this is just my age kicking in and failing to get what the young are doing these days, but it's a further step towards a world that has a pop culture that, like the 50's, is dominated by the thirty-plus market (because they are the ones willing to pay for it). 

So how do you stop this happening? Simple, you go out to a nightclub. All of this is happening because people aren't going out, so if you're worried or upset by it then the only act you can ever do to help is to go out (and tell your friends that you are going out, so they might come out with you). Keep an eye out for events you want to go to, consider hiring a venue and running an event if you don't find anything you like (trust me, there is going to be a final splurge of cheap hiring as the death knell rings), and if all else fails contact the venues and go 'I would go to something like X if it did Y' - because if things don't change, it's going to be a world of bars playing "Now that's what I call X-Factor 37", and I just don't want to leave that as a legacy for our children.

War On The Dancefloor - 25/07/2015

About 3 people got this and
lightly smiled. Totally worth it!

Given the recent flooding massive thanks have to be given to Roger and the team for have done an excellent job of drying the Q Club out and putting in the new sound system. Rumors that wellingtons and inflatable armbands were now the "must wear" thing for all the cool kids were clearly false. everyone knows that all the really cool kids are wearing silver spray paint on their faces this year as anything else is mediocre.

On the technical front it was the first time playing out with a projector running off of my DJ laptop. Technically it worked really well but because of not wanting/being allowed to blind the audience it was projected on the ceiling  and got all stretched out and avant-garde for anyone who wasn't in the booth.

The next War is in about three months time, keep an eye on the Facebook for more details and turn up for awesome industrial clubbing fun.
My next DJ outing will be the Cambridge Meet and Geek in September, turn up for a day of geek based activities and me doing a Psychocandyish set.

11:30 - 12:45

Danceslut - Nano Infect
Emergent disfigurement - venal flesh
NFN9 - 3JEAN
Medicine - Empusa
Not entertained - Tactical sekt
Beatendwn - DYM
Etika - DREDDUP
Bad girl  - LSD project
Product - XMH
Hope - Strictures
Mindphaser - Electro synth rebellion
Lovely day - front 242
Ssssnakepit (Hamilton Mix)- Enter Shikari
Voodoo Peoples - Pendulum
Ace Of Spades - The Chaos Engine
Never Wanted To Dance - Mindless Self Indulgence
White Knuckle Head Fuck - Caustic

The main booth discussions were: Thomas The Tank Engine, MP3 DJing software, the breeding habits of cables and wiring, why Raggedyman isn't allowed to play with the smoke machine...no...stopit!, how people who turn up to an industrial night and demand we play Prince really can fucking do one, Pimms o'clock, the delicate balance between thumping bass and noise pollution law.