Where is fabric nightclub

As Sunday night turned into Monday morning, the London nightclub Fabric threw open its doors for a night of clubbing unlike any seen at the venue since March You could have a night out sat down with a DJ but indoors, proper clubbing, it feels really strange. But Covid was a concern for some. Lee had twice tested negative for Covid the day before.

At no point were clubbers asked to present proof that they had tested negative and vaccination passports were not required. I n recent weeks, a list of 26 celebrated London nightclubs that have closed their doors has circulated the internet and social media, to much wailing and gnashing of teeth. The list is actually slightly misleading. Some of the clubs on it closed decades ago — evidence not of a vast conspiracy to denude London of its edgy nightlife for the benefit of chain restaurants and luxury-flat developers, but of the fact that the natural, healthy state for dance music and club culture is constant forward motion: like the music and its audience, venues shift and change over time.

Indeed, perhaps the most striking thing about the list is that none of clubs on it attracted as much attention for their closure as Fabric has. The celebrated Clerkenwell venue Turnmills certainly went out with a suitably hedonistic bang when the lease on the building that housed it expired in — the final night of legendary Saturday gay club Trade went on until 6pm on Sunday evening — but there were no global campaigns to halt its closure, no angry articles in broadsheet newspapers; the London mayor was untroubled by pressing questions regarding his thoughts on the matter.

The sense of disbelief among DJs and clubbers that its licence has been revoked might have something to do with the fact that Fabric was a nightclub that thrived against the odds. I felt very nervous, but after one hour of spinning I felt very connected with the crowd, the sound system and the bodysonic dancefloor.

Maya Jane Coles : fabric isn't just a nightclub to me. It's a label, a brand, a collective, an institution. There are very few clubs with its kind of stature where the music is consistently kept at such high quality and never compromised.

DJs are always proud to play there. It's one of those things on the bucket list. On September 7 , fabric had its licence permanently revoked following two drugs-related deaths.

The reaction from within and without was one of dead-eyed shock, anger and incredulity. It was just so wrong and so unfair, it makes me fucking cry. Judy Griffith : When the club closed it was like a grieving process.

It was such absolute devastation. The night after the hearing, people started coming to the club and sitting outside, drinking, leaving cards on the walls and bringing flowers. It was literally like a mass mourning. It was like their community had been broken.

It was so amazing to see that the club meant so much more to people, just like it did to me. It was our culture that was being bashed. We need to do it for the next generation. What followed the closure was a public outcry that gave birth to the savefabric campaign. Fundraisers happened in clubs, car parks and warehouses across the country. On November 21 Islington Council agreed to reopen fabric under a new set of conditions, including an overs policy, ID scanners and lifetime bans for anyone caught using drugs.

Just over a month later fabric re-opened its doors. Punters raved under a huge projection reading yousavedfabric. Judy Griffith : Never in a million years did we think that people would get behind us in the way they did. We could never ever have got that licence back without the power of the people.

We had to start again basically. We deserve to be here and we should be here. But we need help and we need protection. Club culture needs to be accepted as culture in order to move forward and evolve. And, buoyed by a global public love-in, they soldier on, in service to their clubland community. Watch this space. Judy Griffiths : I feel that our jobs are harder to do now than they used to be. Club culture is under attack. But the struggle seems to be part of it. Every few weeks something happens that inspires me and makes me believe in it all again.

The other week Ricardo [Villalobos] played for seven-and-a-half hours and I felt so blessed to witness it. Or I found these guys recently, doing amazing stuff on a little boat in Hackney Wick. Exciting things are happening underground.

Saoirse : I think one of the hardest things for any nightclub to do these days is to get a young generation interested in clubbing.

Rather than recognising, encouraging and stimulating it, all they want to do is destroy it.