Sunday, June 12, 2005
Hmmm...well, last night I went to the Reclaim the Future party.
Such a mixed bag of unexpected emotions.
We arrived early 'cos we had T. in tow, they were all still setting up really.
We were charged five pound each to enter.
I didn't really mind, but did joke that in my day, it would have been free.
For everyone. I would of bloody insisted.
Upon entering the huge dark and dirty building, i felt rushes of excitment and nostalgia, coupled with almost disbelief that this was how I used to spend every Saturday night for a few years. As I hugged Phil, whose was sound checking his mighty rig upstairs, tears welled inside me. He had come along way, but was still the methodical and knowledgable person he'd always been. He was playing some Lebonese pop music, followed Klasma (?) which was very relaxing, and enjoyable for T.
He's taking his rig to Palestine for a year, he is a remarkable young man, whom I am lucky to have spent time with.
As things began to get going we toured the building, bumping into many faces from the past. I was happy that I still knew so many people, but as my friend Donach said, everyone would of known me back then...
The party was sorted in many ways. There was a well stocked bar. Banners were hung everywhere, Anti-capitalist, G8 and an ancient Reclaim the Streets (not one of mine) At least five rigs (not exactly sure) but big sounds, many equiped for live bands.
They had lots of problems with the power though, and hardly any lighting at all.
At one point I went to check out the basement where my gorgous and lovley friend Gee was helping set up, but got completely disorientated because they only had one flashing strobe light. I had difficulty finding the staircase, and when I did, I found myself accidently leaving the party. It was then I noticed exactly who was working the door, and it shocked me greatly.
Two old school RTSers were there, taking fivers off everyone. Well, I'd had a few drinks by then, and I found myself momentarily outraged. Can't remember what I said, dont even know what was getting my goat the most, (or even if it was rational) that it was them on the door? or that it was in my old domain, or the fact that it wasn't a donation/free party, or the fact that I'd personally been charged to get in.I dont bloody know (old wounds prove hard to heal or someting) Iguess I was lary (well I'm still the same person after all), and I could tell they didn't understand me, at all, which kind of hurt. Sensibly, I withdrew, proberbly not soon enough.
And then I began to look at the party with fresh eyes. Whilst this was very well organised for a squat party, sorted, as I have said, Where was the politics? Where was the kids room for that matter? Where were the protest films and photos and where were the cups of tea and skipped food? And why wasn't it a free perty. A party that stepped outside the ordinary, by rejecting commodification.
By the standards of the previous Reclaim the Future party, this wasn't up to scatch I ranted bitterly on the way home.
I had found the environment so exciting and energising though. I loved skipping or dancing through the big dark spaces, with the fat sounds blasting through me. I had a little dance to some techno, and found it most pleasurable. I listened to some cool American folk singers who carried on most impressively after suffering a power cut mid stream. They just jumped down off stage into the audience and played even harder.
Rhythms of Resistance played downstairs, they need to be moving really, but were still really impressive. I'd met many friends old and new, my new U75 buddies, so really it was a fantastic night for me, soured only by that unresolved issue that refuses to quite go away.
She'd even come up to me, Limetrees, the instigator.
Well, we hugged, and the very first thing I'd said was that I'd always love her, because it's true, she was there in the begining, she invited me in, further and further, I admired and respected her for many years,. I have convinced myself that she in no way intended to exclude me. Bla, fucking bla..but I didn't get to say that of course.
We struggled to have a normal conversation. She admired T. and left.
She was still on the door when we left around 1am. There was a massive queue outside and the entrance was jammed. I had to force a space so that I could carry through T. safely. They said bye. I said yeah, Bye. Part of me wanted to stay and continue to bump into more lovley people but after pasing them on the door again, I said that I'd need paying to pass them again. Something about them leaves me gutted. And if that is the total sum of there collective political activism, then I'm not much impressed. Sure it was a lovley party, flushing toilets and bog roll, but for them. ..Hmmm.
Foot note: It was a benefit! just realised it was a benefit. (not sure for what though) So I guess the fivers issue is a non-starter and Im just bitter and twisted.
Such a mixed bag of unexpected emotions.
We arrived early 'cos we had T. in tow, they were all still setting up really.
We were charged five pound each to enter.
I didn't really mind, but did joke that in my day, it would have been free.
For everyone. I would of bloody insisted.
Upon entering the huge dark and dirty building, i felt rushes of excitment and nostalgia, coupled with almost disbelief that this was how I used to spend every Saturday night for a few years. As I hugged Phil, whose was sound checking his mighty rig upstairs, tears welled inside me. He had come along way, but was still the methodical and knowledgable person he'd always been. He was playing some Lebonese pop music, followed Klasma (?) which was very relaxing, and enjoyable for T.
He's taking his rig to Palestine for a year, he is a remarkable young man, whom I am lucky to have spent time with.
As things began to get going we toured the building, bumping into many faces from the past. I was happy that I still knew so many people, but as my friend Donach said, everyone would of known me back then...
The party was sorted in many ways. There was a well stocked bar. Banners were hung everywhere, Anti-capitalist, G8 and an ancient Reclaim the Streets (not one of mine) At least five rigs (not exactly sure) but big sounds, many equiped for live bands.
They had lots of problems with the power though, and hardly any lighting at all.
At one point I went to check out the basement where my gorgous and lovley friend Gee was helping set up, but got completely disorientated because they only had one flashing strobe light. I had difficulty finding the staircase, and when I did, I found myself accidently leaving the party. It was then I noticed exactly who was working the door, and it shocked me greatly.
Two old school RTSers were there, taking fivers off everyone. Well, I'd had a few drinks by then, and I found myself momentarily outraged. Can't remember what I said, dont even know what was getting my goat the most, (or even if it was rational) that it was them on the door? or that it was in my old domain, or the fact that it wasn't a donation/free party, or the fact that I'd personally been charged to get in.I dont bloody know (old wounds prove hard to heal or someting) Iguess I was lary (well I'm still the same person after all), and I could tell they didn't understand me, at all, which kind of hurt. Sensibly, I withdrew, proberbly not soon enough.
And then I began to look at the party with fresh eyes. Whilst this was very well organised for a squat party, sorted, as I have said, Where was the politics? Where was the kids room for that matter? Where were the protest films and photos and where were the cups of tea and skipped food? And why wasn't it a free perty. A party that stepped outside the ordinary, by rejecting commodification.
By the standards of the previous Reclaim the Future party, this wasn't up to scatch I ranted bitterly on the way home.
I had found the environment so exciting and energising though. I loved skipping or dancing through the big dark spaces, with the fat sounds blasting through me. I had a little dance to some techno, and found it most pleasurable. I listened to some cool American folk singers who carried on most impressively after suffering a power cut mid stream. They just jumped down off stage into the audience and played even harder.
Rhythms of Resistance played downstairs, they need to be moving really, but were still really impressive. I'd met many friends old and new, my new U75 buddies, so really it was a fantastic night for me, soured only by that unresolved issue that refuses to quite go away.
She'd even come up to me, Limetrees, the instigator.
Well, we hugged, and the very first thing I'd said was that I'd always love her, because it's true, she was there in the begining, she invited me in, further and further, I admired and respected her for many years,. I have convinced myself that she in no way intended to exclude me. Bla, fucking bla..but I didn't get to say that of course.
We struggled to have a normal conversation. She admired T. and left.
She was still on the door when we left around 1am. There was a massive queue outside and the entrance was jammed. I had to force a space so that I could carry through T. safely. They said bye. I said yeah, Bye. Part of me wanted to stay and continue to bump into more lovley people but after pasing them on the door again, I said that I'd need paying to pass them again. Something about them leaves me gutted. And if that is the total sum of there collective political activism, then I'm not much impressed. Sure it was a lovley party, flushing toilets and bog roll, but for them. ..Hmmm.
Foot note: It was a benefit! just realised it was a benefit. (not sure for what though) So I guess the fivers issue is a non-starter and Im just bitter and twisted.
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