The British Pub is a much loved part of our culture and as a student at University, I've learnt to expect funny looks when I declare that I don’t particularly like going to the pub.
“I’m just popping out for a pint” has become a misleading catchphrase that is ingrained in our society- who ‘pops’ to the pub for ‘one’ pint? Go on, be honest…Chances are, you’re going to get bladdered - and you know it.
The next day, all you’ll have to show for it is a mild case of amnesia and a festering hole in the thing you used to call your bank account.
I’m not going to pretend that it can’t be enjoyable; I've had the pleasure of drinking in some cracking pubs that are bubbling with history and character, and that aim to provide a friendly atmosphere for socialising, rather than the excessive consumption of alcohol.
However in the pub, the music is pretty much non-existent. They can’t play music because they don’t have a licence. But don’t worry, the locals’ boozy rendition of Aunty Mary had a Canary is sure to get you on your feet… if you’re paralytic…but still have the ability to stand…and have virtually no musical standards …
You are mesmerised by the woman asleep on the bar stool; she’s been precariously balanced on just one of her bum cheeks for a number of hours now, which poses a number of questions: is her Gluteus Maximus made of steel? Is she so drunk that the sudden drop wouldn’t even wake her? Will I be able to contain my laughter if such a situation occurred? It’s a moral dilemma no intoxicated person should ever have to face.
Now compare this to the memorable moments during a prime time set in a club - the beats are unrelenting the bass is heavy. In this moment, nothing else in the world seems to matter but you and the Funktion-One.The lasers are practically intergalactic;a kaleidoscopic feast for the eyes, a sensory masterpiece adapting to the rhythm, enhancing the buzz.
The DJ goes hard but the crowd’s going harder, downing pints of water so they can sweat it back out. There’s the crusty techno veterans, still working the moves that they owned in the ‘80s; the psychedelic necromancers, calling upon the ancestors of rave with a ritual dance that no ordinary civilian could ever comprehend; and the harmless hat-wearing hipsters, whose constant rebellion against social norms always keeps things exciting- like wearing headphones in a nightclub, it’s just so edgy and ironic!
I'm also a firm believer that a good night depends more on the company you keep than the venue you keep it in; but I want to get up and stomp, not marinate in self-pity, drowning my sorrows in the corner of a stale little inn!
There’s half an hour until last orders, and the rowdy debate from the rugby lads in the corner, regarding the maintenance of their nether regions (amongst other unsavoury subjects), has not yet been drowned out by your own drunken ramblings - clearly the cheap lager’s not hitting the spot, so you best get to the bar and chug a litre of vodka, sharpish. You won’t remember anything in the morning, but that way you can’t be scarred for life…
Yet in the club you can experience the company of colourful people from all walks of life and put any form of social prejudice to one side in the name of the party. Whether it’s House, Techno, Trance, Garage, Funk, Breakbeat, it doesn’t matter. You are dancefloor divinity in an underground utopia.
People in clubs are primarily there for the music-and I’m strictly referring to the underground havens of the electronic music scene, not the slimy, generic, button-bashing, pop-pumping ‘nightclubs’ society has been cursed with! It’s not about who can down the most Jager Bombs, or who will be the first to tactically chunder; it’s about sharing a magical, musical experience with people who appreciate it just as much as you.
And the best thing about it is that the majority are complete strangers!
Electronic music events are not just full of rowdy ‘youts’ who can’t function without a face full of narcotics, and it’s unfair that people who go tend to get labelled as such.
Of course, you get the odd ‘Badman’ whose soul purpose in life is to turn up and be a prick, but this special breed of human will crop up anywhere, and in this case, at least they’re severely outnumbered (and the trippy necromancers will probably scare them off)!
We don’t go because we want to get ‘twatted’ or pull the plumpest ‘MILF’; we go for the sweet feeling of unity that comes with a quality soundsystem, and a room full of nutters who just can’t get enough...
What’s so wrong with that?
Genna Ash
