Wow. What an experience. Where to begin? Rolling up at Tank last Saturday night around midnight was indeed a sight to behold. I felt like I was walking into a live, dynamic advertisement for the infamous UK chain store ‘Top Shop’, feeling slightly emasculated without several articles of clothing attached in some way to my outfit that served no discernable purpose whatsoever. Special mention goes out to the gentleman refused entry and yet unwilling to accept his plight – dressed comely in a pair of bright yellow jeans, white slippers, white hoodie (unzipped of course) and accompanying bright blue handkerchief tied around his neck. The reader could be forgiven for taking a moment to ponder the implications of such a dress code, particularly given the club’s 1000+ capacity.

After negotiating the numerous clipboards tactically positioned between the road and the club, disturbingly reminiscent of such cinematic masterpieces as Better Off Dead, American Psycho or perhaps even the deliberately nauseating A Night at the Roxbury, we finally gained entry. To Nathan and Gina, I trust this is proof enough you didn’t let a pair of unworthy impostors into your sacred domain!

Upon entry to said domain one can’t help but be impressed by the layout: multiple levels, multiple bars, and multiple sound systems. In fact the sound system does warrant special mention – the folks at Tank have done a great job of making it sound really great, wherever you may be, and given the cavernous nature of the place this is no mean feat. Throw in a few VIP areas off the main room (complete with their own VIP ropes that, interestingly enough, remained in tact even though people were in fact in front and behind them, thus necessitating a rather awkward limbo-skirt-raising maneuver should you wish to transcend the hallowed boundary) and you’ve got yourself a great party setup.

No wonder Junior Sanchez looked like he was having so much fun when he hit the CD-decks. Having been warmed-up expertly by Andy Murphy, Mr Sanchez set about playing house chunk and after house chunk (in dispersed with original 80s tunes with, once again, disturbing frequency). The crowd loved it: evidenced by the constant and sometime vicious battle for pole dancing pole position, a location coveted by almost every young nubile female in the joint. I felt at times like I was in some dodgy New York meat packing warehouse I had heard so many stories about.

This type of environment suited Sanchez to a tee, and no doubt feeling right at home, he continued to bust out crowd favourites such as the new Nightcrawlers’ Push the Feeling On, Danmass’ Lucid and his own bombshell remix of Ultra Nate’s Free. Things started to get a little freaky though when a series of unadulterated 80s classics came out thick and fast, and when Tears For Fears Everybody Wants to Rule The World led into none other than Enya’s Sail Away it was time for this reviewer to leave, but not before he spent half an hour waiting in the line to use the unisex toilets, two of which were off limits to the public under the guise of being ‘staff toilets only’. Once again the reader can be trusted to draw their own conclusions…