- Sometime around 2 AM my mind snapped back into a semi-conscious state. I was standing behind the decks, hugging Motor City Drum Ensemble. I remember thinking, "He's not giving this hug his all." Perhaps he felt nervous. Perhaps a crazed drunk charging behind the decks for a hug is something that you don't get on an average night in Stuttgart. Perhaps I should have stayed on the dance floor, rolling around in a fit of intoxicated madness as I had been doing for the previous two hours.
Don't get me wrong: I was quite happy on the dance floor too. Three hours before, I had been enjoying a few leisurely pints of cider before Mike Plant descended upon Manchester and fed me rum out of a pint glass and led me to Wigflex. As I arrived, I fell down the steps into the dark industrial confines of Sound Control. At the bottom? A bar that felt like it was positioned right in the centre of the club. Routes at either side led to the dance floor. If you stuck to the wall, you would come to raised areas braced with railings-providing odd hiding places for those in need of sanctuary. It's the perfect club for a weird drunk such as me.
The small club has been doing very well these past few months, filling the gap that The Music Box has left behind. It has the orientation of a house/techno club that the likes of the Roadhouse and other venues in Manchester lack. It's the kind of place that welcomes a fiend and provides a fitting surrounding to get twisted, listening to loud repetitive music.
It's with this in mind that you may appreciate the lack of clarity the events between midnight and 2 AM can be recalled. Others in my friendly rabble assure me that Actress played the best music, that Darkstar showcased the greatest level of technical ability. But it was Motor City that played the perfect soundtrack for me. Varying levels of bass and rhythm grooved behind a mask of disco that would slam without warning into the analogue brutality of old Chicago house. As the sleaze of "Baby Wants to Ride" kicked in, though, I knew only one thing: A second hug might be called for.