Someone said to me that the party vibe had died in South London. I prefer to think things go in cycles. Clubbing must be shooting up to replacing the old growth all the time. So where is this re-birthing of the cosmic Brixton clubbing entity happening now?



Well, once a month, you might see a huge day-glow queue snaking up to the Brixton High Road. It isn’t too hard to find it. An acid tinged anaconda beckoning you towards its subterranean lair for a hypnotic promise of all out crazed fun. You’re a little bemused and excited as anticipation hints at the joys you could possibly be waiting for. Then you’re in; a complex of rooms and annexes, hidey holes and dance-floors. Bright lights and neon edged electricity underline the atmosphere to define a club wound up, ready to explode in to the night. Ibiza Underground is spread across three clubs in the heart of Brixton.



The door closes. Your silence is broken. Your mate comes in, short skirt, blonde hair in a pony tail and little vest top. She plonks herself down on the sofa, grabs the remote and presses pause on your clubbing dreams. “Hang on! We’re not going there..” she moans, “It’s forty five quid to get in”



“Well” says I, floating in on my Buddha cloud of imagined wit and self indulgence. “That may well be the cost, but let’s remember – all your drinks are free. North London? Its taxi, travel, entry fee and with the score left from all that you’ve got enough left for two red bull vodkas.” At Ibiza Underground you can drink like a fish, no money changing hands means no waiting at the bar, really no waiting at the bar – instant service, which ultimately means more time to party.




So you’ve dodged a bullet with the whines and you’re in the party. The place is so massive you square up against the wall as a boulder chases Indiana Jones out of the toilet. You don’t recognise him of course because he look’s different in his neon t-shirt with a days-of-acid smile, you might even say the boulder‘s a figment of his imagination. The place is pulsing like a porn star ready to pump it up and blow off some steam in a hedonistic splash of party sensation. It’s like the music is in the walls of the club, everyone is grinning, caught up in this crazy hypostasis of fun, mirth and madness. Everyone talks to you; everyone’s got something to say and bit of cheeky chat in their back pocket.



What really counts isn’t just Wiley in his new single, it’s the music. Like a Henley high end dealer, I’m just going to pick out the best stuff. The best DJ of the night was without doubt Aaron Le Doubles and was the main act. Kid and play hair and trousers a little bit too tight in the fashion define our hero. Purple jacket and joker smile, the guy’s already dripping with style than The swimming pool at the Playboy Mansion. Now, one doesn’t like to bandy around terms like “superstar in the making”, so I‘m not going to. In every scene there are places and spaces, full of faces, but when you see this young hustler of the beat electric it will take the words clean out of your mouth. I stood in the DJ booth watching art pour out of his fingers; every single detail, every timbre, every note was accounted for. A dynamism and energy evoked from nowhere, like a summoned breeze. Again the music slams, rises, and falls, the crowd locked into the DJ and the DJ into the crowd. To say I’m impressed would be like saying God looked over his creation after seven days and went “yeah, it’s alright”. Watch the name; by my reckoning its going more places than the Internet, Aaron Le Doubles, superstar in the making, and yeah I did just say that. He wants to Double it up.



The rest of the music has a little bit of something house and electro to it. The music policy hits pretty much hits the spot. You can tell by the way people can’t stop dancing that I’m not alone in this thought. I’d like to go out more these days but I’ve come to expect such a high standard from clubbing. If there’s one little thing that’s not right I’m off home. Surprised, I stay at this club from about Ten till Five. Taxi back home and the good mood I’m in lasts and lasts and lasts. So much so I have time to sit back and relax on the sofa and philosophise. As I am doing now, reclining and lining up the tantalising morsels of the night.



Everything goes round in circles; life, death, and even the wheels on my mate Gary’s 50CC Vespa. Some twenty years ago we had the ‘Summer of Love’ and the Dance music explosion. There was a new feeling up in the air, people had fun without boundaries, there was a breaking of the mould that was different from opening the door on a student’s fridge. I’ve been on this scene for years, and some times I think we’ve lost our way. We’ve become too caught up in what’s conventionally cool, or we go out not to have fun or let go, it’s just the thing to do on a Saturday night. Not at Ibiza Underground, it’s good like Dance music come home, the re-emergence of that old time party vibe with the don’t give a expletive as long as we’re having a good time attitude at altitude. Get yourselves down there and grab a slice of it before you miss at and everyone’s talking about it for the next twenty years.



Peace out.

Yeah, it's not often I go somewhere and am actually really impressed by the freshness of anyone's sound. Aaron's got his unique style and it just works.

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The next one is J-Kid's birthday too :)

Is all the booze free then? Can I get a pint of sambuca?

For your own safety they don't serve drinks like this.

For other people's maybe ..

Is champagne free?

Im just a reviewer. You can contact the promoter :)

What a load of pikey tosh. It sounds just like Ceasers in Streatham.

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lul

"Open bar policy" - does it means that you can drink as much drinks as your stomach big is? :) just wondering... anyone answer please? planning to celebrate my b-day somewhere... :)

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Well, I hope there won't be any big queues at the front of entrance :)

big queue to get in but once ur in theres hardly ever a queue for the bar so just drink n drink n drink n drink n drink n so on...

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