- A year on from its inaugural run, the Warehouse Project has returned to Manchester with a point to prove. With a diverse line up that well represents the current state of dance music, and the promise of a new venue tucked away beneath Piccadilly Station, the teething problems of last year's hugely popular events might be a thing of the past.
We exited the station, swung left by Café Nero and join the queues under the bridge, where police were carefully searching shadier punters to the sound of Laurent Garnier’s 'Man With the Red Face' escaping from inside. The most striking change from last year's venue, Boddington Brewery, is the intimacy of the new venue, which opens out between brick arches and air vents, tonight lit by snaking neon strobes. The sparse industrial space felt very much tailor made for the night and made an instantly favourable impression.
Even better, the sound system is powerful enough to fill the caverns, keeping a group of aging ravers dancing maniacally by the furthest speaker stack as though there it was the centre of the dancefloor. With a single arena and better access this time around there was no need to decide who or what to see really, as first Luciano and then Dave Clarke played on the same stage.
Luciano made controlling the crowd look effortless, sashaying casually behind the decks and delivering wave after wave of warm breezy Latin-infused techno. Playing for over three hours, the heavy funk of his set had the venue on springs with muscular beats interrupted by towering breakdowns. A riotous mix of St Germain’s 'Rose Rouge' was especially well-pitched - lots of smiles and cheers of recognition with the majority of the crowd even obeyed the command to “put your hands together.”
Perhaps with last year’s no-show at the Warehouse Project in mind, Luciano acted like he had a point to prove, casually rearranging his equipment as though no one was even watching him. By the end though, he’d relaxed enough to smile and wink at the crowd. The lighting changed, Dave Clarke arrived to turn up the pace, and Luciano pointed to his wrist quizzing the sound engineer as if he expected longer before finally leaving the stage with a shrug.
The serious business followed with Dave Clarke tearing through an ear-splitting set of crisp, pulsating techno. His relentless industrial sound was brightened by unidentified lyrics – “I need you, I want you” – and occasional funk and hip-hop cuts but otherwise it was exactly as you’d expect: colossal beats, driving rhythms and thrusting tear-backs. The energy and intensity hardly faltered as the hours flew past.
An outstanding night in all, it’s set a high standard for the coming months. Aside from the usual glow sticks and face paints, the crowd was wonderfully diverse, from the scarecrow in fancy dress to the unwitting guy wearing a sign labelled “Spunk bubble” on his back. As for the cute blonde who borrowed my phone to write a message on the screen, I couldn’t understand a word you said but if you’re coming here again, I’ll try and do better next time.