Just imagine how different this would be without any internet. Amongst many other huge cultural shifts and realisations happening right now, it’s fair to say that live streaming technology has been up there in helping everything; keeping families connected, homes entertained and even, ensuring press conferences keep running safely.
Applied to the context of sharing music and hosting ad-hoc gigs, in the space of just two weeks the ‘net has quickly become very saturated with creativity. Early adopters on my radar include Cadenza boss Luciano, who has been hosting his living room YouTube sessions alongside his mahoouusive speakers for weeks now, getting a more sophisticated setup with each one.
Luciano lets loose on his new microphone
Also in early March, kings of funk Soul Clap’s first live stream straight from Miami also set the scene for things to come. Now artists, promoters and clubs, both small and large global brands, are either re-scheduling planned events into an online party, or just making work of idle hands and sharing some tunes – for the sanity of both the isolated artist and listeners.
In the world of music, asking someone to ‘keep it locked’ has taken on a whole new meaning, and I’m here for it. By no means am I making light of the ongoing situation – but simply want to comment on an unexpected and ever-evolving phenomenon that is happening in club culture as a result of it. The world’s likely to change a fair bit once some sort of normality returns and right now, we’re in the nebulous stages of seeing what that might look like. Interesting, ey.
On 27th March the almighty VR Club Quarantane experience was unleashed online, ready for its networks to be explored by thousands of global clubbers for 42 hours. Hosted on Resident Advisor’s platform and curated by artist agency, Invisible Hand, it presented a unique weekend in ‘Berlin’, while also offering a way to stay connected and raise funds for the #SaveOurScene campaign, and many other far-reaching causes.
That Saturday morning I’d just returned from my daily run (the first ever of its kind), expecting to wind down with a late full English and frothy cappuccino, when my WhatsApp pinged off with a message from a fellow dancer:
“https://clubquarantene.stream – virtual reality clubbing – it’s sick!” read the text, with an attachment of set times and names such as Helena Hauff, Shanti Celeste, Skee Mask, Marcel Dettmann and Randomer plastered across them. Instantly I clicked the link and was transported to a virtual queue with questions to answer:
Shit, what if I didn’t get in? Some people didn’t the first time around – even when reduced to code, no-one is safe from Berlin’s stringent entry procedures.
Everyone is welcome eventually though, and when viewed through a phone you’re plunged into the 360 dancefloor of a virtual club. Visually it looked like a cross between something from Blade Runner or Altered Carbon, but also it wouldn’t seem out of place on The Sims 2: Nightlife – not to its detriment. It was beautiful, with surreal, wonky piles of glowing washing machines (?) nestled amongst neon spiral swirls, interludes of chasing strobe lights and every so often, a large spinning toilet roll would appear. Look up and there are even strips of light, perhaps paying homage to the sunlight peeking through the blinds of Panorama bar that have come to epitomise Berlin. The best part about it was the fact that it used leading gaming software, and probably took no longer than a week to make.
When I tuned in it was Helena Hauff handing over to Randomer. Here I was, scrolling around this dystopian playground listening to this:
And looking like this:
Is this the future of clubbing?
The bar served no booze but offered the chance to donate to the causes it was looking to support, while the bathroom offered an anonymous chatroom with hilarious consequences – imagine the world of WTF Youtube comments in real, live, hyperspeed action.
At any one time there were around 1 – 2,000 people logged on and locked into Club Quarantane. Even though there was no way to connect with each other beyond a ‘sHouT if UR H0rNy’ or ‘hands up who is from brazil?’ text, sitting in that online world and knowing that so many others were doing exactly the same thing was beautiful – as was watching the reactions and posts from the DJs who had been involved in this one of a kind project.
The same day, I had a hectic global ‘party’ schedule that saw me touching down in London for a Zoom-call 30th, soundtracked by Hebden Bridge’s finest, DJ Northern, before jetting over to Chile for a live stream of a stunning pre-recorded Villalobos set. Two different but common examples of other ways the world is keeping dancing throughout lockdown.
The thing is, if I actually had danced to Helena in Berlin, popped to London for an intimate residents show then flew to Chile for Villalobos, any notion of ‘next day’ would be long forgotten. But when clubbing in quarantine, you wake surprisingly fresh-faced.
On Sunday I reenacted what many others in Berlin’s 24 hour party culture so often do – either popping to the club at 9am, still riding the wave from the night before or in my case, getting an early night so you can have a right long day sesh with techno for breakfast.
Armed with my second frothy cappuccino, it’s back to Club Quarantine I went and this time the bathroom dwellers were confused. Thanks to global time zones and herd-bamboozlement, no-one really knew what was going on or who was playing – again, not so different from a normal daytime clubbing experience – but who cares anyway (soz guys, it was deffo Solid Blake), the sets were amazing – and together we soldiered through until the stream ended that afternoon.
This was just one of the many virtual events that happened that weekend – in between regular sessions by the likes of Boiler Room, and one-off treats such as Eris Drew & Octo Octa’s Forest Throwdown stream. It’s strange because this isn’t really anything new – cutting back to Boiler Room again, they’ve been doing this for almost a decade.
But in this new context, which makes everything else out of context, it holds so much more weight. There’s something liberating about dancing in your living room to relentless techno in fluro pink running gear at 2pm, and knowing you’re not the only one doing it.
Also, as we’ve seen, technology is going to get pushed forward and explored super fast with the concentrated demand. Have you clocked Dixon’s underwater 3D streaming plans?
Let’s get this straight – there’s no way that the real, human connectedness of physical clubbing can be replaced by virtual efforts, but when combined with social media and new technologies, it offers a different kind of buzz which is perfect for this time. I can’t wait to get out and hug, kiss and lick all of my mates as much as the next person but for now, it’s reassuring and fun to explore the virtual alternatives.
x
(N)owt in Notts 