Where to start? This was year zero for me in terms of parties, the first of which took place on February 22nd in a disused Unigate warehouse on a defunct industrial estate somewhere in West London.
We had originally intended to travel to a local party in the adjoining county, but as we were driving from meeting point to meeting point, we realised we were half-way to London anyway. Often, as the years progressed, this kind of mission ended in failure. But not this time.
We arrived, after a bit of fiddly driving, at a vast warehouse with large fires burning outside. This was situated on a large patch of rubbly wasteground adjoining the main road.
I remember remarking at the time that I felt like I was in a foreign country. There is nothing quite like realising that you have just entered a country within a country where no/new rules apply and the only goal is hedonism. The party seemed to be everlasting (although us lightweights chickened out by Sunday afternoon).
I can still remember the pit-of-the-stomach, wobbly legged euphoric feeling of entering that warehouse. We had to enter via a door in the upper part of the warehouse, and descend a staircase into the depths of the party, all the while getting a bird’s eye view of the deafening and blinding spectacle. There was an incredibly intense vibe. The place was full of people dancing. The music was very hard, the lighting minimal. My first proper party was everything my friends had told me to expect and more.
There was one point in the night where I looked around for one of my travelling companions and he appeared at my side, however, as I looked, I started seeing double, and then in triplicate, and then there was a whole row of him!
The music I remember being very hard, the lighting was very minimal.
We felt like we were living in the future- the experience seemed so magical, so unlike anything in our everyday lives.
DJ’s? Unknown. Hours spent dancing? Can’t remember (but probably a lot). Amount of fun had? Immeasurable.
I picked up this flyer at the party:
July 4, 2007 at 12:58 pm |
Who had the crap kicked outta them at Acton Lane, Easter Monday, by the ‘indiscriminate’ Met. Police? Join the club!
September 26, 2009 at 8:35 am |
I remember the part for this flyer it was a box like warehouse on what is now the park royal cinema complex. It was a sweatbox and the walls were rattling like crazy as i think there was some corrugated iron in there. Good party
scary thing was watching some old lady on the tube at 7 in the morning slicing off her cuticles from her nails..
freaky
not a good comedown scenario, I hated the tubes after parties mixing with the straights on the journey home
August 26, 2010 at 2:48 pm |
that was a wicked party!i remember the bottom of the chimney stack had flames painted on it so it looked like a rocket blasting off and the room was called the departure lounge……….nice!!