I’m not one of those people who is any good with dates. I can’t remember years. That mad hot summer in the '70s will forever be the mad hot summer in the '70s to me. I could look it up but I honestly don’t know if it was '74, '75 or '76.
I do remember it was a mad hot summer and there was an Outspan Orange car at some big fair we went to. Was that the year it rained on the White Helmets at Roundhay Park Feast? I don’t remember. I remember one year getting soaked as the Red Arrows flew overhead but I doubt that was the mad hot summer in the 70s.
Suffice to say then that I’m not entirely sure the years we used to dance, badly, smashed on cider and Pernod and whatever else was on offer and cheap, to the following tunes. They are all, to me anyway, Warehouse Classics, pre-Rave Warehouse Classics at that. I know it’s not really hip to say it but E ruined it for me. Summer of Love? Summer of yer mates acting like fucking mongs.
I remember a mate coming back from Blackburn, from the early warehouse parties and telling me I’d love it, everyone getting on great, a real hippy vibe. He’d always considered me a bit of an old hippy at heart. Me too, I think I was, and maybe I’d enjoy the vibe, but bad disco? Even Bananarama sound good when you’re off your tits.
Our lot always had trouble getting into decent clubs due to our dress sense. Scruffy terrace types, all M&S crewnecks and semi-flares. In truth, we only wanted in for the music. All the proper madheads put on strides and danced to Rick Astley before kicking off with the bouncers in places like Mr Craig’s or Tiffanys or Central Park or really went for it at outposts like Rocky’s, The Richmond and Barcelona.
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Thanks to three ace goth birds from round our way (Janet, Sandra and Sarah, forever in your debt) smoothing things over with the blokes on the door we were eventually given a chance, behaved ourselves and became regulars in what was, for a time, the best little nightclub going. Ironic then that at least one of our number went on to DJ at The Warehouse.
I digress. You don’t care about that. The Warehouse was fucking great – though, somewhat sadly, it was not as sordid as the blokes in our local taproom would have you believe.
In no particular order, here’s a selection of guaranteed Warehouse Friday night floor fillers as I remember them before the nice one-top-one-disco-biscuit-munching peace-and-love-turned-plastic-gangster types took over.
Siouxsie And The Banshees - Spellbound
The Cult - She Sells Sanctuary
Iggy Pop - The Passenger
The Waterboys - The Whole Of The Moon
The Smiths - Panic
The Clash - Rock the Casbah
Spear Of Destiny - Come Back
New Order - Sub-culture
The The - Uncertain Smile
The Velvet Underground - White Light/White Heat
Julian Cope - World Shut Your Mouth
Run DMC - Walk This Way
Hanoi Rocks - Up Around The Bend
The Cramps - The Crusher
