- A new party paying homage to the city's storied '90s club scene launches at Lab11.
- Talking to clubbers at the space•lab launch party on Friday, the general consensus was that Lab11 is currently one of the better clubs in Birmingham. There are other spaces within the venue (before the event began, a bassline house night could be heard raging next door), but on this occasion an 800-capacity split across two relatively intimate railway arches made for the perfect mid-sized club, a space to host interesting bookings without resorting to cavernous warehouses.
The Rainbow Venues loomed large in Birmingham's club scene until it closed in late 2017 following a drug-related death. In a similar incident, Lab11's license was suspended in September 2018 after the tragic death of a 19-year-old man, but owner Will Power agreed a new set of security measures to keep the club open. A few people spoke bitterly about The Rainbow Venues. Yes, losing most of the sprawling network of industrial spaces was a blow to the local nightlife, but some felt it had dominated the city's club scene for years due to its size and booking clout at the expense of smaller ventures.
Space•lab offered something cosy and independent, drawing from the legacy of Birmingham's storied '90s club culture. I spotted House Of God T-shirts and older heads brought up the famed techno party Atomic Jam in conversation. The approach to production was playful, tapping into the idea of a night out as a spectacle for the senses. The wall behind the DJ in the main room was tricked out like a retro spaceship console, all blinking LEDs and digital display readouts. The second room, called The Deep, was adorned with psychedelic flourishes, from lit-up jellyfish to suspended fluorescent mushrooms. Gallon jugs of dry ice frothed behind the till. It's easy to overlook the worth of such homespun touches, but this party proved a little décor encourages a more positive atmosphere.
There was a peppy energy to the crowd that lasted until the 6 AM cut-off. It's well documented that Birmingham clubs in the '90s welcomed an eclectic mix of pie-eyed ravers, hippies, punks, football fans and plenty more besides. Space•lab maybe wasn't as diverse as years gone by, but there was still the odd mohawk or set of bobbing dreads. A couple metal heads I got chatting to were hyped to see Helena Hauff. In fact, a lot of people were hyped to see her—the Hamburg DJ's star seems to grow brighter with every passing weekend.
Before Hauff came Sybil and Batu. Leading with low-BPM ripples, Sybil's well-poised opening avoided obvious warm-up fare in place of something more thoughtful. Her set was a fine springboard for Batu, who launched into a dynamic grip of hyper-modern techno abstractions. The crowd, predominantly in their mid-20s, seemed particularly receptive, unfazed however off-grid he went.
The main room felt a little overcrowded at times, especially when Batu handed over to Hauff at 3 AM. The Hamburg DJ, who was given three hours, was on fearsome form, responding to the clamour in the room. Things got especially intense as she pushed her well-established remit of uncompromising techno, electro and acid towards peaks of 150 BPM.
Where the main room was dark and intense, both visually and musically, The Deep was warm and bright, with nice lighting, trippy décor and lax smoking rules, which gave it a cosy buzz. The DJs responded in kind. The local head Jack D slipped between shuffling house, 2-step and the odd breaksy roller. Truly Madly took over at around 2:30 AM, punching out hard-grooving deep house rarities that suited the fluffier vibe. Even as the crowd thinned out later on, there was a spring in the air.
Space•lab felt like a "proper" party, if such a thing exists. One in which everyone's up for it, the club feels like a departure from reality and the music is great from start to finish. Considering the way the event was presented, that seems like exactly what the organisers were aiming for.
Photo credit /
Khris Cowley For Here & Now