Thirty Thousand Streets

Sunday, May 06, 2007

It's Bigger Than

I think I'm going to knock these vaguely tedious 'where I got pissed this weekend' type posts on the head, because they're well, vaguely tedious, but for old times sake, here goes.

Last night was the final It's Bigger Than at 93 Feet East, which has been running now for over three years. I went for this final outing as I did for the first night I went to at the beginning of 2005, in jeans and a svelte-assed DAKS jacket, though on that occasion I also had a bag of beat-up disco 12s to rock.

I think they managed to leave on a high note.. it felt like that incarnation of the night was cruising into run-out groove territory anyway, and the people who run that venue sound like twits. The crowd (which is always going to be a bit of a mixture on Brick Lane) seemed now more than ever a rag-tag coalition of plastic party people and badger-haired post-curry beer boys, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but it did seem to have lost some of its spirit.

We sat outside in the courtyard for for a bit (Steven Merchant of Extras fame was sat right behind me) before going into the main room, where I out-popped crouch to a mixture of funk, disco, hip hop, and er, minimal that the guest DJ Dave Tope was laying down. Al popped his head round the corner from the back to let us know it was going off, which upon inspection, it was.

As Ade observed, the big guns were well and truly out tunewise, with the Timo Maas remix of Doom's Night and Super Sharp Shooter calling the faithful to prayer. Even the final tune from Bugsy Malone by Paul Williams got a look in, and everyone knows what a club hit that is.

The crowd was tearing the roof off though, with people dancing on every available surface, and whooping enthusiastically, and for this final chapter of the night (at least at 93 Feet East) they seemed to have reclaimed the spirit of fun which made it such a delight when it was young.

At one o'clock concerned looking security types in black MA1 jackets lumbered over to try and pull the plug, but they let them past the alloted hour, as I'm guessing the big lumps realised they'd have a riot on their hands if they didn't. I departed shortly after, to catch a lift back down south, with a fond farewell glance at the percolating throng behind me.

I guess I'll miss it, but on the other hand, it might force me to seek out pastures new for late night thrills. The quest is on.

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