- NYE is a tough time for London clubbers. Sure, there's always a plethora of ritzy, glitzy events packed to the brim with sexy people and superstar DJs, but the cost of partying on London clubland's biggest night of the year is prohibitive. This presents a dilemma: haemorrhage cash on a night of epic proportions; or get on a chilled one in a pub or house party…and spend the night with the niggling feeling that you're somehow missing out.
But this year East London warehouse party specialists Mulletover gave us the opportunity to get the best of both worlds. For less than the price of entry to a tacky West End tourist pub, their NYE event brought together three rooms of the finest, underground techno.
Photo credit: Siana Petrova
The venue was as basic as they come; a nightclub it wasn't, but it was all the better for it. Inside, décor was kept to a minimum: only massive rigs, makeshift bars and Portaloos, with a few projectors shining moving and static images onto the bare brick walls. The floor? Straight up dirty concrete, while ceilings loom high above in the darkness. This was real warehouse raving, with no concessions to the fluffy luxury nightclub paradigm.
As Simon Morell spun an electrified warm up set in the Mulletover arch I took the measure of my fellow partygoers: A right trendy looking bunch, at this stage still looking mostly human—even, in the main, quite attractive. But, despite Eastern Electrics billing as a tracksuit party, it seems only a few actually paid attention to the dress-code. Unfortunately I didn't realise that they meant ironic '80s tracksuits. I'm clothed South London gangster-style: Nike tracksuit accessorised with New Era Cap. Dressed such, I find people reluctant to catch my eye.
Photo credit: Siana Petrova
Never mind, my friends were all around and the music got rowdier and rowdier as midnight approached. Soon Morell handed things off to M.A.N.D.Y., who I was most excited to see. (I'm still a techno neophyte, and this is who I've really come to see play.) And Philipp delivered, taking things up a gear with harder thuds and trancier breakdowns as the party begins to take hold.
At this point, it started to get crowded and there was barely room to dance, but the whole rave was lifted on a cloud of goodwill and happy vibes, each of my stumbles into neighbouring ravers were met with a grin and a "Happy New Year!"