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August 2007 It’s hard to imagine a worse start to this month, from a music-related point of view. Following some weeks of severe financial difficulty, 4 The Wall Ltd, the current publisher of Blues & Soul magazine, finally admitted defeat and announced its intention to go into receivership with immediate effect. It was both poignant and tragic to reflect that we’d made the magical 1,000-issue landmark just two weeks before, a feat no other black music magazine has ever achieved. Sadly, issue 1001, which we’d all worked hard on for the two weeks following, could not be printed and so will never be seen. This brought to a close 40 years of continuous fortnightly publishing. The news was confirmed to B&S staff in a meeting on Wednesday 1st, which was the last time any of us will set foot inside the mag’s Praed Street Towers HQ in London, its home for more than 30 years. Before this column descends entirely into doom and gloom, however, there is some optimism. A title with such heritage as B&S cannot be allowed to disappear, so plans are already in place to resurrect the mag under a new publisher as soon as possible. At present, the best guess is that this can be achieved by late September/ early October, so watch this space, ‘cos we ain’t finished yet! In the meantime, the website continues at www.bluesandsoul.com
After a week like that I was in need of something positive to take my mind off it all. Fortunately, my debut DJing visit to Turkey came just at the right time, with a double-bill of gigs at the open-air Summer club Oxyd, about 50 miles outside the popular holiday resort of Antalya. Before setting off, there was the matter of my weekly residency at G’s in Bicester on Thursday night. After finishing at 2am, I jetted immediately up the M40 to my mother-in-law’s house in Middlesex, ready to depart for nearby Heathrow Airport at 9 the next morning. There are stacks of direct charter flights from the UK to Antalya during the Summer. Almost all require a stay of 7, 10 or 14 nights, however. As I was only away for two, I had to travel with Turkish Airlines incorporating a stopover in Istanbul in both directions. This increased the overall travel time to a tedious eight hours. The club had put me in the all-inclusive Defne Star hotel complex, just two minutes across the road from the club, and I caught a quick nap before heading over to join residents Murat and Gokhan for the Friday night session.
MD and Gokhan at Oxyd, Turkey Oxyd’s an incredible structure. It looks like an arrangement of giant sculptured sandcastles, with Egyptian-style pillars everywhere. It was similar in feel to the Summer clubs I’ve played in Croatia and Macedonia, and wouldn’t look out of place in Ibiza. In short, it pisses all over anything the UK has to offer in terms of epic club experiences! Besides my usual urban sounds, I’d prepared myself for this one by bringing along a selection of big-room house tunes. As a DJ, it’s both challenging and refreshing to occasionally play styles outside of the box, and this was certainly the case. Thanks to my long-standing DJ friend Ussherman for providing me with the current big anthems, as I’m a bit clueless when it comes to knowing what’s rocking in the house music world these days!
Defne Star Hotel. With all day Saturday at my disposal, I took a dip in the hotel pool and hit the beach. Turkey is bilingual – Turkish and German. There are so many Germans here that you’d swear you were in their homeland. I also checked out the on-site grocery store which was offering such tempting brands as Crax, She-lik and Kum. Somehow I wasn’t hungry. The 100-plus degree heat soon had me heading back to my air-conditioned room. Saturday night’s gig was even more rocking than Friday’s, and I recorded this one for posting on the site – it’s available to listen to via the home page. This will certainly go down as one of the more memorable outings of the year. I managed only three hours sleep back at the hotel, before getting my 8am lift back to Antalya airport ready for the journey home. Parveen was at baking Heathrow to pick me up, at least easing the latter stages of a long day. My radio show on Wednesday 8th involved UK soul artist Sandy guesting live in the studio. It’s so much more rewarding to do a live show over a pre-record, and having other people in the studio enhances the spontaneity further. Sandy’s album, ‘Affairs Of The Heart’ is out on her own Sandy Music label.
MD with Sandy at FM107.9 I took advantage of a Friday night off a couple of days later to join the B&S post-mortem/ social reunion that had been arranged among the magazine’s staff. The trauma of the mag going into receivership had taken us all by surprise, so we felt a leisurely drinks session might be in order for keeping in touch. We hooked up at Jerusalem Bar in London, where the hot weather had ensured that the entire street was full of drinkers spilling out of the many pubs and hanging out on the pavement. After a few pints, I was fortunate enough to have Parveen appear like an angel at the tube station, ready to take me back to the in-laws' motel!
B&S refugees As is usually the case in mid-August, I had a couple of extra shifts at The Bridge in Oxford, providing holiday cover for resident Danny Smith who does the middle weeks in the month. The first was on Saturday 11th. In the absense of dumb or entertaining requests, or outrageous punter behaviour, It gets difficult to find new things to talk about with a gig that I’ve done for the past six years! Suffice to say it was business as usual, and by no means the worse night I’ve done at the venue.
MD with DJ1E at Nexus, Milton Keynes. I invested in a day in London on Thursday 16th. First ports of call were Deal Real and Uptown Records in the West End, both of whom are now stocking limited copies of my book ‘Tales From The Flipside.’ I also went to the offices of ‘One Week To Live’ magazine, who are beginning an exclusive four-part serialisation of the book, featuring chapter extracts and related pictures. There’ll be regular updates on this on the Flipside Myspace page (www.myspace/talesfromflipside) Parveen was shocked to work out that it was three months since she’d last been out clubbing with me, so I rectified that immediately on Friday by taking her to Dancefloor Fillaz at Nexus in Milton Keynes, only a short 40-minute drive from home. This one of my favourite UK nights to play, with promoter Andy Brown aka Furious, and his cousin, the wicked DJ1E holding down resident duties, and big dog guests most weeks, tonight seeing an appearance from Kiss FM’s Fidget Kid. The previous week had hosted Westwood, and as a result, numbers were down a bit just seven days later, but it was still a hugely enjoyable night. After my set, we relaxed in a DJ booth that’s bigger than our living room at home, and watched 1E spellbind the crowd with another selection of stinging reggae dancehall. This night comes highly recommended for any self-respecting urban head!
Fidget Kid at Nexus. The second of my three weeks at The Bridge in Oxford the following night looked like being run-of-the-mill and routine … until the last hour. An influx of musically clued-up latecomers meant that I could get away with dropping an extended selection of 90s classics, culminating in an extended slow jam session that went on way beyond the usual 3am curfew, and with no interruption from the security staff! Having the crowd singing along to The Fugees’ ‘Killing Me Softly’ with the music dipped was a special moment that put me in mind of when I used to play it at The Park End Club back in the day. Jodeci’s ‘Freakin’ You’ and Biggie and R Kelly’s ‘F*cking You Tonight’ got equally strong reactions. Didn’t see that coming! There are two things that all radio presenters dread happening on their shift. The most hardcore is a member of the Royal Family dying, which calls for all kinds of responsible emergency procedures. The less hectic one is a period of PRS monitoring. These are allotted by the people that ensure artists’ royalties are paid correctly, and they select radio stations at random for test periods. I almost escaped FM107.9’s latest session, but as my ‘Just Buggin’ show spans the 10.30pm to 12.30am timeslot, the last half-hour just stretched over into Thursday’s survey period. Not too much of a bind, though. I took the opportunity earlier on to drop a reggae-flavoured revival set to mark the run-up to Notting Hill Carnival, a further reminder of how inspiring it is to have a show where I have the freedom to do this type of thing at will. The run-up to the weekend included the regular Thursday spot at G’s, followed by a night off on Friday, so Parveen and myself went to the flicks to take in The Simpsons Movie. I slept on The Simpsons for many years, dismissing it as a silly kids’ cartoon, until I saw an episode by accident about ten years ago, and I’ve been hooked ever since. How wrong I was! Saturday saw my third week at The Bridge in Oxford, which was respectably busy and business as usual.
MD on the soulful Thames cruise. On Sunday morning, we picked up Parveen’s brother and his girlfriend and all headed into London. I’d been tempted to hit Carnival, but in the end, The Boating Club’s Summer Soul Cruise on The Thames won out. This runs a few times a year, generally on bank holidays, and is staged by a collective of soulful music DJs/ promoters, including my fellow B&S colleague Stretch Taylor. The weather couldn’t have been better. The sun blazed down all afternoon, and while others got their Mediterranean-style bronze on, my time on-deck turned me a healthily-glowing lobster-red. We boarded at Temple Pier, from where we were due to sail at 2pm, but it was after 3 by the time we’d got going. The music was uptempo soulful vibes throughout, and Stretch smashed it as the only DJ to introduce some hip hop, caning the likes of Chubb Rock, Stetsasonic and Rob Base. The route took in some classic London sights – Tower Bridge, HMS Belfast, St. Paul’s, the Tate Modern, The Millennium Dome, (or O2 Arena, or whatever the hell it’s called these days,) and The Thames Barrier at Woolwich. My only complaint would be that the session was just a little too long at six hours; it would have been far better if there had been a docking point midway to let off those who’d wanted it. That said, it was an excellent day, and an inspiringly different way to spend a Sunday.
Tower Bridge. Bank Holiday Monday’s outing was just as memorable. This involved a return to Bel Air nightclub on the Belfry golf course/ upmarket hotel complex just outside Birmingham. Oxford promoter Rob Martin and his mate came along for the ride, and the sight of a huge queue outside the venue as early as 10.30pm boded well. Sure enough, the place was absolutely rammed. I played between long-time Belfry resident Robin Holland and Galaxy Birmingham DJ 3 Style, and my set seemed to go down very well. Bristol DJ Mac 3 was in the house, a guy I remember from my days on Galaxy 101. I took his comment ‘you look just as skinny as you did ten years ago’ as a reassuring compliment. Afterwards, we hung out for a while in room two, where the DJ was spinning classic 80s grooves. There were several goosebump moments as the memories came flooding back listening to jams like Sybil’s ‘Falling In Love’ Surface ‘Happy’, Cool Notes ‘Spend The Night’, Gwen Guthrie’s ‘Ain’t Nothing Going On But The Rent’, Curtis Hairston’s ‘I Want You All Tonight’, and other good stuff that I haven’t heard played out for ages. The Monday nights at Bel Air are one of the longest-running soul events in the country, and still draw coachloads of well-dressed punters from miles around. It’s a real special institution.
MD with Robin Holland and Mac 3 at The Belfry. For the rest of the week I decided it was high time I got busy with the next instalments in my Beatmasters Mix series. With Kanye, Premier, Dre, RZA, Neptunes and Timbaland already in the bag, the next two super-producers to get the mash-up treatment are Swizz Beats and Just Blaze. As before, the most difficult part of compiling these mixes was delving through the archives in various parts of the house to dig out the tunes. Inevitably, most of it was on vinyl, and it was actually quite refreshing to start mixing with the stuff again following a year or so of just playing CDs in clubs. The mixes will be ready to absorb soon, so keep an eye on the homepage for the download links.
MD with Trevor Nelson. All roads led to deepest, darkest Wiltshire on Friday 31st, for the launch of a new club brand called Urban Royalty. It's the brainchild of Club Ice in Westbury, not far from Bath, and the long-term plan is to roll it out to several other venues, with big-name acts and merchandising attached. (The next one features G Unit - minus 50 Cent - in concert in November.) Rob Martin came along for the ride again, and we were surprised to find the club in the middle of an anonymous industrial estate. An ideal location, really, with no danger of any noise complaints from neighbours. Headlining the bill were Trevor Nelson, along with a PA by N Dubz. Such large-scale launches can often be touch-and-go, but Club Ice had clearly done their homework, as the place was packed with a very enthusiastic good-quality crowd. I played prior to N Dubz, who put in an impressive performance. Trevor arrived at 1. I've DJed with him on quite a few occasions, but the last time was a long while ago - a Lick Party in Dublin as far back as 1999, as I recall. Also in the house was Cardiff's Vibe 101 DJ Raheem, along with my long-standing friend Naima, who used to come out and rave at The Forum in Cardiff back in the Galaxy era, circa '98. It was great to catch up with some old faces again, and al in all, it was a very uplifting night.
MD with N Dubz. ... and that was August. There are far worse ways to end a month.
July 2007 June ’07 turned out to be the wettest June on record, and the first few days of July didn’t turn out to be much dryer… or cheerier. With news of hundreds of British householders watching their homes flood, the ongoing scaremongering about Global Warming, the attempted terrorist attacks on London and Glasgow, the latest crippling interest rate hikes, and Gordon Brown becoming prime minister, a more uplifting start to the month would have been nice. But this is life, after all, and I guess you just have to get on with it. In my case, this involved a link-up with hero of the conscious hip hop crowd Talib Kweli in London on Tuesday 3rd. He was in town for three shows at The Jazz Café with the excellent Jean Grae, and to promote his new album ‘Ear Drum’. I turned up at the Sanderson Hotel to conduct a B&S magazine interview, along with photographer Matt Crossick, who was there to do the photoshoot. Unfortunately, due to timing mix-ups, Talib was 45 minutes late. Then his record company advised that the only chance he now had to do the interview was in the back of a car that needed to take him back to the K West hotel in Shepherds Bush, where he needed to change as he hadn’t been advised of the photos. Although we had a good chat and I got what I needed for the article, the quality of recording I’d hoped to get for a bluesandsoul.com podcast was ruined by the sound of the engine. Just another day in the music biz.
MD with Talib Kweli. The following night, I returned from my three days in London to present my ‘Just Buggin’ radio show in Oxford. The station had just installed a new Heath & Allen mixing desk and two Pioneer CDJ-800s, which both myself and some of my live guest DJs will doubtless be making use of in the coming weeks. As if to compensate, the stop/ start button on one of the regular CD channels jammed on the mixing desk, meaning I had to perform contortionism by turning round and firing tracks manually from the machine itself during links. Not entirely convenient. After a couple of weeks away on other gigs, I returned to G’s in Bicester on Thursday 5th. The venue was quieter than usual, possibly an early casualty of the new smoking ban, although I’m sure things will even themselves out. On Friday 6th, I headed to Heathrow Airport for the first time since the latest batch of terrorist alerts, set for a double-bill of gigs in Northern Ireland. Thankfully, security at Terminal One was no more time-consuming than usual, and my BMI flight arrived into Belfast City Airport shortly after 5pm. I got a bit of outstanding work done on the laptop during the flight, which makes me wonder how I ever coped with things before I had one. The amount of downtime I used to waste on flights compared with the productivity they bring now is incredible.
MD with DJ Ghost at Skye, Belfast. First on the agenda was Skye Bar Club and Grill in Belfast. The venue kindly offered me a meal, which I took at 6pm as the place became packed with revellers unwinding after a long week at work. After a nap in my room at the Jury’s Hotel, I was back to spin at the Bootylicious night at 11pm. The resident is Ian/ DJ Ghost, who was formerly a member of South East England’s Gigolos crew, and moved to Belfast a couple of years ago. Ghost had told me to expect a heavy and clued-up crowd who love their crunk; in fact, he reported, it’s nothing unusual for the tempo to stay below 90bpm for a whole hour. I certainly took it above that, and the night ended up being energetic and very enjoyable. Ghost was off for three weeks in Jamaica the following day. I ensured he was armed with a copy of ‘Tales from The Flipside’ for the flight.
Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland. At lunchtime on Saturday, I got picked up for the drive up to Portrush on the North Coast. I arrived at my guest house with the full afternoon to spare, so opted to take a visit to Giant’s Causeway just along the coast. The legend is that the site was laid down by a mythological giant, Finn Mac Cool, as a stepping stone across to Scotland. The real story is that the 40,000 polygonal columns of basalt were formed about 60 million years ago by cooling lava formations following a series of volcanic eruptions. It’s certainly impressive, and the rain cleared to make way for some glorious sunshine.
MD with Stonefoxx at Traks, Portrush. After watching a bit of the Live Earth concert on TV in the evening, I walked the short distance up to Soi/ Traks Complex, site of the night’s gig. It’s a former railway building converted into a multi-roomed venue. On a Saturday, live bands perform in the downstairs bar, eardrum-splitting hard house and dance rocks in the main room, and Gary, aka DJ Wax Junkie, holds down R&B in the third room which, naturally, was where I was guesting. On the bill in the main room were a girl group called Stonefoxx over from London to perform a PA. They’re three good-looking girls, and the promoter, Brian, had tried to tease me by mentioning that they were staying in the same hotel, but reminding me that I was married. Not that it’s likely to have made any difference if I weren’t… I stumbled back to my room after another alcohol-fuelled late night. It’s all part of the hospitality in Ireland, but I vowed to give my liver a few nights off. My last two visits to Ibiza have involved some of the most stressful and time-consuming bullshit I’ve ever had to put up with in all my years of travel. My trip out there on Monday 9th July (eventually) showed that the tradition continues. My last two nightmares were at the hands of Easyjet. This year, I figured I could avoid the crap by going with Spanish flag carrier Iberia from Heathrow, routing via Barcelona. I was wrong. To cut a long, long, long story short, and to avoid myself dying from the same boredom recounting it as readers doubtless will from reading about it, the trouble all stemmed from my initial flight from Heathrow to Barcelona being two hours late. This caused me to miss my connecting flight to Ibiza, and created a knock-on effect that eventually saw me arriving on the island at 1.30am, two and a half hours later than planned. By the time I’d queued with the other 40 billion or so other passengers for a taxi, I finally rolled up in San Antonio at 2.40am, and after swiftly dropping my bag at my hotel, was finally behind finally the decks at Soul City at 3am.
MD in Ibiza. Soul City remains the only venue on the island to play urban music seven nights a week, and my first Monday night there was particularly well attended with a good quality crowd. Last time I was there, two of the resident DJs were openly fondling a girl’s bare breasts behind the booth. This year, one of the residents had a hardcore porn DVD playing on his DVD. All part of life in Ibiza. Galaxy North East DJ Wayne McDonald was playing Pacha the same night, but we were each stuck in separate towns with no transport, so were unable to link up.
San Antonio fountains, Ibiza. I managed about four hours sleep back at my hotel, working on the theory that the hours of 6 to 10am are when the caners and pissheads finally pass out from the previous night’s excesses. Before getting taken back to the airport by Soul City proprietor Julian, I took a walk around the resort of San An. Since I was last there, Ibiza has gained a new high-speed motorway linking the airport with San Antonio, and in San An itself, a new walkway all along the coastline from Kasbah to the marina. Outside Es Paradis, I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of a vaguely familiar character in the corner of my eye. After a few seconds of looking at each other, the penny dropped. It was Matt who runs the Love Dough nights back in the UK. He’s out for the Summer to promote his nights in Ibiza and Majorca, and we had a quick chat. Thankfully, my route home was far less tedious and trouble-free than going out. Ibiza wasn’t due to be my only Spanish trip of the week. As previously mentioned on this site and on Myspace, I had been due to DJ in Tenerife on Thursday 12th. This turned out to be another one that never happened. I’ll spare the full details, but the problem arose from the venue inexplicably leaving it until nine days before the event to finally send through the money for me to book my flight. It was little surprise to find that by that point, the cheapest option was well over £400, and therefore out of the question. It was disappointing not to go, but it had become obvious long before that point that it wasn’t going to happen, and I’d had time to get used to the idea. So I ended up playing my regular Thursday at G’s in Bicester instead.
MD with Dave Fraser at Soul Village Weekender. Saturday 14th saw the return of the annual Soul Village Weekender. Last year’s event was in Lowestoft. This year, promoter Dave Fraser had switched to the superior Summerfields Holiday Village in Scratby, just north of Great Yarmouth. Soul Village is what could fairly be termed a ‘big peoples jam’. Parveen and myself were clearly the youngest punters in attendance by an average of ten years, and I was happy to be the only the DJ on the bill with a ‘3’ at the front of my age, which made me feel good! The weekender’s frequented by mature soul fans, generally from the capital, who only get to go raving every six to twelve months now that they’re all grown up with family responsibilities. I played in the main room, leaving aside the hip hop and ragga in favour of some cool, soulful sounds old and new which were a pleasure to play. Sadly, with such a heavy quota of DJs on the bill I only got to spin for an hour, and DJ Bigger was there to take over in no time. With my set out of the way, we downed some drinks and mingled throughout the various rooms, bumping into familiar characters like Gordon Mac, Bob Jones and Snowboy in the process.
MD with Snowboy and Bob Jones. Last year’s accommodation had been a typical Pontins chalet, which wouldn’t win many prizes for design, cleanliness or comfort. This time, we’d been put in a modern, spacious caravan with three bedrooms, which was a considerable step up in all stakes. Fortunately, we were also far enough away from the dance tent pitched in the middle of the site to get some sleep. I pity the poor bastards whose chalets were directly opposite; they clearly wouldn’t have got any shut-eye at all until the system was turned off around 6am. This month marked a truly groundbreaking achievement in the magazine world, as Blues & Soul published its landmark 1,000th issue after an incredible 41 years in the game. As far as we know, this makes it the longest-running black music magazine anywhere in the world. An event like that calls for a celebration, so we linked with the Eclectic Breaks crew who run the weekly Get Down session at Bar Rumba in London, to hijack the first part of the evening on Friday 20th.
Deeni & Bobby Kilo at B&S 1000 bash. The day didn’t run entirely smoothly. My bus into London got caught in the torrential floods, and a wave of muddy water swamped the floor, soaking a bunch of people in the process, (though surprisingly I escaped it.) We then learned our beer sponsor for the night had pulled out, leaving us only with several crates of a rather dodgy-sounding flavoured cider as the only complimentary alcohol. After a bit of hustling, however, we managed to pull a new beer and vodka deal out of the bag, and after a couple of bottles, the strawberry-flavoured cider started to taste pretty good; I think it’s the first time I’ve drunk the stuff since I was about 16. Our party ran from 6pm, and it was reassuring to see a healthy turnout of old friends and industry associates. All the B&S office crew hung out, including Bobby Kilo, esteemed editor since 1871, (sorry, 1979.) I span some tunes alongside Jamie Topham, aka Lenny Guacamole, and Stretch Taylor, who had to scarper early on account of the fact he was getting married the following day. All in all, it was a great night, and I got some highly entertaining pictures which will appear in the mag and on the site shortly. I emerged from Northolt tube station a drunken mess where, fortunately, the wife was waiting to take me back to the Mother-in-law’s to crash out.
Frances enjoys a free cider. Saturday 21st saw my rescheduled visit to Ireland to play The Trinity Rooms in Limerick. The last time I was over I span an eclectic set to the open-air courtyard where all the smokers assemble. This time, I was back in T2, aka the R&B room, filling in for resident DJ Mac 3, who hit the floor to party on his night off. I handled the whole night, playing to a responsive and up-for-it crowd, and it was another highly satisfying and enjoyable night. This time, I forced myself to resist the legendary Irish hospitality and remain sober. The only way to get a cheap flight involved travelling back to London Stansted at 6.50am, a mere four hours after finishing at the club. It was a dilemma knowing whether to grab a quick 90 minutes of sleep back at my hotel, or to just stay up and see it through. In the end, the sleep option won over, but I’d barely closed my eyes before I was getting driven back to Shannon Airport as the sun crept into view. Fortunately, Ryanair were on time. I bombed it back from Stansted immediately after landing, and was back at home and in my bed by 10.45am.
The Trinity Rooms, Limerick. If I hadn't been more experienced in the various surprises the world of live radio can throw at you, I might have been more fazed by the situation facing me as I arrived to present my ‘Just Buggin’ show on Wednesday 25th. Just as I was lining up my opening track it came to light that the top CD player in the on-air studio was refusing to read data on any disks, and I discovered this with less than two minutes of ads to play before I was live on air. The only way round it was to very swiftly switch the on-air function from the main studio to the production one next door and to do my show from there. The trick is always to stay calm, and it’s one I’ve learned from many similar situations in the past. The show ran smoothly in the end, and listeners wouldn’t have known any difference! I’ve recently re-arranged and re-burned the selection of CDs that I take with me to all my gigs, ensuring I’m prepared for any type of crowd situation. As it’s a bar, so therefore less reliant on dancefloor action than a club, my four-hour set at Sleepers in Basingstoke on Friday 27th gave an opportunity to really dig deep, and alongside more contemporary stuff, I found myself giving an airing to some classic 80s electro hip hop like Man Parrish, Extra Terrestrials and Herbie Hancock. All good stuff! As if to compensate, there were a fair few dumb punter comments of the type that might have made it into ‘Tales From The Flipside’, including three separate people asking ‘can I have a look through your tunes?’ If you let me have a rummage through your wallet, sure.
Live percussion at The Bridge, Oxford. The following day I partook in a session of the only type of shopping I can bear – digging happily through crates of old records. I paid another visit to an amazing little shop I’d discovered in Cheltenham, where the guy was still looking to shift crate after crate of 1980s pop/ disco/ dance albums for 10p a shot. Absolutely amazing. I drove back a happy man, my boot filled to the brim with gems like Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder, Prince and countless others. Later on the month ended, as it generally does, with my regular spot at The Bridge in Oxford. Fortunately, this part of town had managed to remain above water amidst all the recent flood devastation; other parts of Oxford hadn’t fared so well. This was my first night in the venue following the smoking ban. It would be nice to say it was a breath of fresh air, but the lingering stench of B.O put paid to that. I think clubs should now employ a sniff-search at the door, and anyone not meeting basic hygeine standards be refused entry! … and that was July.
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Diary Archive 2007 2006 2005
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