Dark, Satanic Turnmills

A Legend Hosts its Last Parties

It has been some years since I had to consider how my feet would feel after dancing from midnight until dawn when choosing my shoes. But the news that Turnmills was to close so soon after the King’s Cross Goods Yard clubs (Canvas, The Key, The Cross) still came as a shock. About half of London’s major all-night clubs have disappeared in the space of three months.

It’s hardly surprising that these labyrinthine venues are shutting their doors: my generation is now much happier sipping cocktails somewhere salubrious than bouncing around in a former factory, and the young, so I’m told, think that electric guitars are the future.

Nobody is going to much miss those chillout rooms full of sleazy dreadlocked men offering massages to anyone in a skirt, or the stench of sweat on the dancefloors, nor yet the music that had been carefully subdivided into 1000s of indistinguishable sub-genres with names like Darkcore and Dubstep. In any case, you only have to hop on a plane to Eastern Europe if you want to experience a place where these phenomena still flourish.

Yet there is much to regret about the slow death of dance music in the capital, not least the stunning buildings that housed these clubs. There was something very special about the way that going out in London meant a descent into the bowels of our city’s industrial heritage. Turnmills is an extraordinary Victorian edifice, while the Goods Yard clubs were housed in a set of arches and warehouses that still remembered the days when the Industrial Revolution was fed by thousands of trains from the North of England.

I worry that today’s skinny-jeaned youth won’t get the same thrills from their corporate-sponsored gigs at the O2 Dome as we had from these gothic underworlds, with their great brick arches, and mazes of UV-lit corridors. The idea that dark, satanic Turnmills is to become a set of trendy offices, where designers in thick-framed glasses will have brainstorming sessions, is truly depressing.

Though perhaps not quite as depressing as the way that I’ve obviously turned into a dismal old nineties nostalgist, moaning about how the youth of today don’t know how to have fun. If anyone spots me putting on an Underworld album and telling a bemused teenager that it’s what PROPER music sounds like, please have me shipped off to the Ministry of Sound immediately to remind me just how horrible the superclubs often were.

Underground but not Undercover

So much art, so little space

You’d think it unlikely that anything could make London’s Tube commuters more frustrated or irate but, for a while there, it looked as though London Transport was going to ban nudes too by censoring a poster of Venus wearing nothing but a knowing look as part of an advertising campaign for the Royal Academy’s Cranach show. Luckily they have relented ‘given its context’ – thank goodness for that, imagine the tedium of just having Mayor Ken’s ‘Poems on the Underground’ as company on your way to work…

So much art, so little space

There’s a storm brewing!

Nigella knows how to whip up something out of nothing and husband Charles Saatchi is certainly not just sitting around eating her choco-hoto-pots either. Nope, he thought he’d take on the Tate Modern (as you do) by opening a new art gallery in Chelsea. Saatchi has already got a couple of shows in the pipeline for when he opens in spring – contemporary Chinese art, new US artists, Indian art – you better watch this space!

There's a storm brewing!

Us Brits just love to chat weather - bemoaning the great British summertime, going camping in a lake of mud and what we’re especially fond of is when the whole rail system grinds to a halt because the wind has blown some leaves onto the track. Well, now we can expostulate about the climate to our hearts’ content at the Museum of London with a new exhibition about our weather, appropriately titled ‘Weather Permitting’ – it’s brilliantly quirky and informative and a great way to spend a rainy summer’s day when it opens in June.

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