- At around 10 PM on Friday, March 11th, a group of black-clad figures approached Hala 36, a former slaughterhouse just outside Prague's city centre. They pushed open an unassuming metal door and continued down a long stone tunnel flanked by white candles. All around them, the smell of incense hung heavy in the air.
Hala 36 is the latest venue of choice for Polygon, one of the Czech capital's best-known techno nights. Because the city only has a handful of clubs, all of which are geared towards tourists and commercial music, underground parties are forced to look for unused spaces. The ex-abbatoir was a wicked spot, with two long rooms extending beyond the tunnel. One had been transformed into a softly-lit chill-out area, complete with tyre swings and a makeshift bar (drinks were served on the stone slabs where pigs were once slaughtered.) The other was the club room. Aside from the DJ booth and some speaker stacks, the space was empty. Beneath my feet, gutters, once used to drain away the blood, ran across the floor.
Prague's techno scene is currently in an exciting place. A number of spin-offs have emerged since Polygon set the trend in 2012, while an abundance of empty buildings and a generally lax drugs policy have helped things grow. The scene takes its cues from nearby Berlin: purist techno dominates, black is the unofficial dress-code and the parties go on until well after sunrise. But there are a few differences. The crowds are a lot younger and largely local—Prague is not as cosmopolitan as its German neighbour. Also, because this is still a relatively new development, it all feels really exciting. For a foreigner at one of these events, the feeling is contagious.
Polygon have thrown roughly 30 parties in the last three years, and by now their events are fairly large. For their first session of 2016 they hosted a showcase from Berlin-based label Avian, repped by Shifted, Sigha and Pris. By the time Pris hit the decks at 2:30 AM, the dance floor was already dark with hundreds of shadows. His set was colourful, whipping the audience into an early frenzy with Untold's "Motion The Dance" before moving in a more pummelling direction. Polygon's custom lighting rig came into its own during his performance, as yellow halogens above spewed smoke at climactic moments. The room resembled a chemistry experiment gone wrong.
Label head Shifted delivered the peak-time slot with grace, despite a few niggling sound issues. He played mostly party techno flecked with acid and electro, while occasional squalls of distortion gestured towards his noisier tastes. The final 30 minutes featured some of the night's most explosive moments, accentuated with some smart EQing. Sigha came on at 6:30 AM, but instead of raising the intensity further, he reset the mood, leading with a few minutes of shifting ambience and vocals. As daylight filtered into the room through chinks in the brickwork, he settled into a deeper, more studied groove.
Hundreds were still going for it come 7 AM. The whole experience had a wild rave-like spirit about it—the kind of thing you imagine happened regularly in early '90s Berlin. If Polygon and its offshoots continue to combine this vibe with their focused aesthetic and smart bookings, Prague could become a major new player in the European scene. But part of me hopes its parties will remain on the fringe. At the moment what's happening in Prague isn't just exciting—it's genuinely unique.