We miss that special feeling when good nights turn great
The best nights are always unplanned; the nights that unroll without warning, that begin with work clothes being hurriedly swapped for borrowed outfits and end on a dancefloor as the sun thinks about rising.
Now though, after a year of silent streets and empty dance floors, I wish I had planned many more nights when I had the chance. My last big one was a year ago. I wasn’t planning on going to the Sub
Club (or any club for that matter), but found myself in Jamaica Street, heading down the stairs, blissfully (thankfully) unaware this was the last time I’d be out for a long, long time. It was a Saturday, Subculture, and Harri and Domenic were playing. It is billed as one of “the world’s longest-running underground house nights”. Well, it was, until you know what arrived.
Wherever you grow up, your first clubs will always be the best clubs. I count my blessings to have got in under the wire to enjoy the legendary Arches before it closed. I still get goosebumps thinking of queuing beneath Central Station, trains rumbling above and the bass rumbling through the walls.
But Glaswegians are especially blessed. You might be Subby-centric, or prefer the tumult of the Sauchiehall Street strip; upstairs at Buff Club or downstairs at Polo. So many great nights. All shuttered now, of course, but it is nice to think, inside all the locked clubs all across the country, the turntables have been silently spinning all these months, waiting for a good DJ and the floor to fill again.
Sometimes, if you’re lucky, a good night becomes a great night. Who knows why? But being in your favourite club to hear a favourite DJ is a good place to start one. For me, joining a conga line around Jamaica Street’s most famous basement after Annie Mac in 2016 was a joyous, unforgettable way to end one.
But the best nights, the ones that glimmer through the next day’s hangover, are forever inexplicable. Lifelong memories form in moments made perfect by the right people and the right music – in the right club. We took them for granted and, plan or no plan, Scotland needs a big night out.