Chemical Brothers
11.12.09
The Chemical Brothers are the biggest DJ names in the country even my nan has heard of them and due to dementia she barely knows who I am anymore. They first came to prominence during the 90's and have been at the pioneering forefront of dance music ever since. Things of been quiet of late on the Chemical front but with a new album in the pipeline the boys came back to their old stomping ground of Fabric to do a DJ set...
http://www.myspace.com/thechemicalbrothers
He Said
Fabric has always questioned my grip in on reality. The place to me tastes like a mixture of Ketamine and a sweaty paranoia.
We made way to the upstairs bar behind the velvet rope; it was here that tipsy quickly turned to twatted, our voices got louder and egos stratospheric. It quickly became apparent that the V.I.P area was a little tame for our tastes and the real party was going on downstairs.
We arrived onto the dance floor to be greeted with enough dry ice to choke a dozen donkeys and we joined the loved up loonies. I tried to pay attention to the tunes but dodging the flailing elbows became more important. You could see madness in the eyes of the people all around me but the shark in the chemical sea was about was about to raise its ugly head.
Her - "Where is my fucking shoe?"
Me - "What (ducking to dodge a stay arm) you need the loo?"
Her - "No you idiot... My shoe, I've lost my fucking shoe"
With that she dived to the floor on the hunt for the illusive pump (hardly appropriate footwear but I didn't think it was the time to question the choice).
Me - "It's not my fault you lost your fucking shoe"
Her - "Well you could be more sympathetic"
An argument erupted in the corridor which did little for our friendship and one the bouncers wished we continued it on the streets.
Me - "It's not my fucking fault I managed to keep both me shoes on. If it means so much have it. I don't care"
I'm not proud of throwing my shoe at her but I did it, if only to shut her up.
In the cab on the way back was Her and Me and frosty silence. We had successful fucked our biggest gig to date and neither of us were particularly proud of our actions. We decided to drop into a party on the way back to try and salvage our night. HER sister was there jabbering away to a man dressed as a baby sucking on a dummy, she took one look at her older (less wise - and with smaller tits) sister and proclaimed:
"You do know you're only wearing one shoe?"
We bust into uncontrollable laughter and decided the night was not yet over.
She Said
Me - "THERE IS NO WAY I'M GOING BACK THERE WEARING ONE SHOE"
Him - "I just think you're making a bigger deal out of this than it really is"
Me - "It's alright for you! You've got both your shoes on!"
Him - "No one will notice"
Me - "What the hell are you talking about? You can't expect me to dance for three hours, then go back upstairs and try and chat with some of the most influential DJ's of all time WEARING. ONE. SHOE"
We were standing in a corridor of Fabric having this argument. I had one foot raised above the floor, balancing one hand on the wall while the other waved erratically at the boy. He was trying to convince me to stay, for purely selfish reasons. Not caring one bit about my predicament.
It had all started so well, the plan was to get pissed at his first (we're both broke). So once our words slurred to the necessary amount we left the warm haven of his little mews house. Lovely Ed had sorted us some listage so we avoided the queue and headed straight for the upstairs roped area. When the set started we realised that being special isn't all that great. Dry ice filled the dance floor below and the energy floated up to us like a feathers over a hair dryer.
We ran down like the seventeen year olds we once were and pushed our way forward and let ourselves be engulfed in the madness. I started to forget where we were, lost in the sequence of musical beeps and bumps and became part of the tidal hammering wave of the crowd.
It probably took me a good ten minutes for me to realise my shoe was no longer on my foot. I tried to look at the floor below but could not make out a sausage. I ducked under the clouds of mist and felt around on the slimy floor while I was kicked, prodded and jumped on. I felt like I was doing a trial in I'm a Celebrity.
And that's how our night at Fabric ended. Didn't make it to the end of the set, not really the beginning of it either. It was horrible. The worst thing is I knew I'd completely messed his night up. He carried me to the cab like Romeo when he thought Juliet was dead - except he actually wished I was dead. We sat silently looking out of respective windows of the cab. It was still quite busy out as it wasn't even that late. I glanced at the sunglasses in the bottom of my bag which I had bought with me pre-empting the 7am glare. There is only one thing more depressing than leaving a club with the birds tweeting, the morning haze rendering participants to zombie-like creatures fighting over illegal cabs, and that's sitting in silence looking out the window thinking of the fun that could have been, covered in dirt, and missing a vital piece of clothing.
Oh - then we went to a house party in Camden. BIG DEAL.
Oh yeah and Prince Charming or Harry, if you did find my shoe my Blackberry pin is 2166ffd... Come on IT'S CHRISTMAS!
