T Bar
Shoreditch, London
Words by Ben Knight
Photos by Rob Low
2008 has been a real bloodbath for London’s clubland. Quality venues such as The End, The Key, The Cross and Turnmills have all perished and sadly Shoreditch’s T Bar is the latest to join this long list of casualties.
For those who don’t know, T Bar is a notorious little rave den that, along with Dove Bridge Studios and On The Rocks, placed East London at the epicentre of the tech-house explosion of the past five years.
Derren and Jaime at T Bar have decided to have one, final blow out with ‘The 12 Days of T Bar’. This is a celebration of the clubs debauched existence held by the parties that have shaped its legend. Tonight it’s the turn of Stink, the infamous Monday knees up that has resulted in heaps of clubbers staring blankly at their computer screens on a Tuesday morning.
Stink is the baby of two of the techno scenes most influential figures, label bosses Damian Lazarus (Crosstown Rebels) and Michael Mayer (Kompakt). Over the years it has seen the leading lights of dance music grace its decks including Loco Dice, Matthew Dear, MANDY, Claude Von Stroke, Clive Henry and Jamie Jones. Tonight it’s Stink’s founding fathers Damian and Michael in control of proceedings, ably supported by Mulletover’s Geddes. The night’s reputation for providing quality music and mischievous antics is evident in the amount of DJs, producers and promoters who are getting down as regular punters on the T Bar dance floor.
‘Sup Photographer Rob took over a corner of the T Bar with a funny little photo booth. Imagine like on the first day of school when you had to queue up in your smartest uniform with your hair all gelled, except with everyone full of vodka and in the odd bit of cheeky fancy dress. On the dance floor it was all going off as T Bar’s Funktion One sound system throbbed out some seriously juicy techno beats. People were up on the tables, as old school rave veterans rubbed shoulders with Stink virgins. Just when I thought the atmosphere couldn’t get any messier Mr C then pops up in a Santa Claus outfit and starts rapping on the mic like he was still Ebeneezer Goode. Next thing he’s in the middle of the dance floor setting off a fire extinguisher. Pure Genius.
When the lights went up it was a real struggle for the bouncers to get the masses to move towards the door. I for one, after many a lost hour (and a few brain cells) on T Bar’s dance floor, will be sad to see the venue close. Plans are afoot for it to be rejuvenated elsewhere, but I’m glad I got the chance to get proper stinking one last time.
