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nightlife, shoreditch
The Death of Shoreditch
If Shoreditch was a 80s Horror movie it’d be Return of the Living Dead. If Shoreditch was a religious icon, it’d be Jesus and if Shoreditch was a sexually transmitted disease, it’d be Syphilis .
Image Courtesy of The Zombie Gallery.
The point of the imagery is that everyone loves to write Shoreditch off and it comes back from the dead every time. In this Guardian article I found in 2003 (!), the author proclaims that at the time of writing, the area had begun to lose it’s buzz. Whilst on the flip-side of the coin, Lonely Planet heralded in 2006, that the area remained at the top of the tree in terms of hip boroughs.
So what’s the deal?
Having lived in and around Shoreditch for 3 odd-years, I wasn’t really privvy to the whole Young British Artists scene that kick started the Hoxton scene. Apparently, YBAs flocked to the area due to the cheap rents and the abundance of spacious workshops and studio spaces. Where artists are, debauchery and merriment follows and so it goes the scene developed with bar stools ably filled by designers, architects and the like.
The identity of Shoreditch was also influenced by the Dot.com boom in the early 2000s as new media companies flocked to the area (some of which remain) as parodied in Nathan Barley.
Now we stand on the cusp of 2008 and having had my ears chewed off on many occasions by original “ditch dwellers” complaining about how the vibe has changed since the old days, I just wanted to chuck my tuppence worth in as to what I’ve observed happening…
The death of Old Street
A jaunt down Old Street on a Friday/Saturday night is like a jaunt down Romford High Street. Starting at the top, Aquarium is possibly one of the worst clubs in existence, attracting horrifically dressed and visually offensive clientele from the darkest depths of Middle Earth. Then move on to Favela Chic – which is kinda cool still, bit of a european flava meets city boy incognito. The Foundry still maintains a certain allure.
As mentioned in our review of Shoreditch – 333 and Legion are pretty much dungeons filled with chavvy aggro fuckwits, sprinkled with the odd scene kiddy on a day trip from Macclesfield who hasn’t quite worked out that there ain’t no romance around here. So in a nutshell if you’re looking to discuss the influence of Warhol on Devo or to compare your obscure psychobilly record collection with someone, Old Street is probably not the place for you anymore.
Curtain Road – the mixed bag
A simple right turning transports you to a World of choice and a glimmer of individuality. First up is Bar Music Hall. This place attracts fashionistas by the 1930s travel trunk-load. Its For3ign club night attracts scores of people and gets good press…if you’re going to go – check out Ellis Scott’s slideshow of the kind of looks that are getting busted out, you need to be pushing something better than your M&S jumper and BHS slacks if you’re going to get in…
Plastic People/Pool/Cargo – I chuck these three together in one category, they are like an ipod with a broken screen – when you press for the next track you don’t know what you’re going to get. They have wildly varying nights which attract wildly varying people – my advice is keep a check on the listings and don’t just rock up. We did that once at Cargo and ended up at an East European Club night – on the upside my Bolshevik dancing got a rare outing but on the downside it was like being at an early 90s rave in Norwich (shit music, shit haircuts, shit clothes etc).
The Old Blue Last is the pinnacle of try-hard scenesterism. People don’t seem to speak, don’t seem to dance and all seem to work at either Vice or Dazed & Confused or both. For all it’s faux-coolness, we love it. We love the little things, like the barman who has an old-school wedge haircut, the endless stream of hot brunette barmaids, the awesome jukebox and their unadulterated commitment to live music and breaking new acts. It is a heady mix of insecure teens wearing waistcoats and retro Nike high tops and older looking voyeur types that exude A&R vibes all to a backdrop of a 6-piece ska band crammed on to the tiny stage.
Person 1: What the fuck is StrongRooms all about?
Person 2: It has good cocktails and we once saw a dude drop an entire pint over his date, which was amusing in a typical singleton, macabre fashion
Person 1: Fair enough.
The dispersed future
As rents spike and pikeys arrive to fight, there has been somewhat of a flight away from the traditional Old Street/Great Eastern Street/Hoxton Square/Shoreditch High Street drag. Kingsland Road remains relatively untouched, with Spread Eagle, Catch and Jaguar Shoes still attracting some decent sorts. I dare you to go further up Kingsland Road to explore On the Rocks, A10, Melanche et al (and the Macbeth round the back on Hoxton Street). Oh and on the way pop into Today is Boring for a dvd to watch when you get back.
So where to check out now? Seedy Images stripclub on Hackney Road is invaded on the regular by Nuke Them All, which lapdances vigorously in an erotic and robotic Avant Garde manner to looping electronic mash-up with a side order of DIY fashion and exuberant hedonism. The Legion this ain’t people.
Dalston/Stoke Newington has a good thing going on and it happens to be on the route of my two favourite free buses – the 149 and the 73. Few snippets because this is getting long – check out Dalston Jazz Bar for an eclectic party in what is like someone’s front room, an eclectic party that never stops. Bardon’s Bourdoir and Edinburgh Cellars are also worth the mission, if you choose to accept it.
If you are tired of the same old asymmetric faces – roll up on the 271 bus from Old Street roundabout to Holloway – check The Swimmer on Hercules Street, Big Red for some proper rock vibe and then mosey to Nambucca for your injection of pelican -legged scenesters. There’s a place called Orleans on Seven Sisters Road that has some reasonable stuff going on for New Year but I haven’t checked it out myself. Then there’s the Boston Music Rooms in Tufnell Park if you’re feeling like Christopher Columbus.
There are a few other bits and bobs knocking around but I’m gonna keep them in my sky rocket as I don’t want you all rocking up and crashing my vibe.
According to the Lonely Planet, Borough is the New Hoxton. I think I know why it’s called the Lonely Planet now, because the only other person that was alive shot himself in the head after listening to weak chat like that.
Tags: london, nightlife, shoreditch
[...] part 1 of “The Death of Shoreditch” was more of a satirical look at the Shoreditch scene, part 2 is about a much more imminent and [...]
[...] Death of Shoreditch Part 1 [...]
Regarding the ‘Death of Shoreditch’, I grew up in 50s and 60s Shoreditch, before being exiled to South Croydon. Shoreditch then was a different place; different atmosphere; different life completely. In short, it was a dump! A rough, dull part of London, where the pub competed with the betting shop for twenty-something custom; I guess you guys would have legged it ‘up West’. I now, by chance, commute to Shoreditch for work, and it is almost unrecognisable. It is, most importantly, a hundred times better for one single reason: dreary, grubby predictable old Shoreditch has become the place with the potential for just about anything to happen in a typical Shoreditch day. Now that’s living!
Graham, cheers for the context, exiled to Croydon sounds like a tough break! I’ve only been there once for the Ikea and I needed the equivalent of Andre the Giant’s body mass of swedish meatballs to calm my nerves.
So there we have it young, naive folk of Shoreditch; back in the 60s chances are you would either have been in the bookies or the pub (which applies to a lot of my friends now anyway!) instead, in modern Shoreditch you have “the potential for just about anything to happen”. This includes being offered coke on a hourly basis, being hassled by persistent tramps and being accosted by street walkers on Commercial Street etc alongside all of the positives our lovely habitat affords us.