The launch of a new club night is always fraught with peril and it takes a great deal of bravery to attempt it, especially two days before Big Day Out. As expected the Valley Mall more closely resembled the set of a spaghetti western in terms of vibe, something not helped by the smattering of bedraggled inhabitants who seemed to skulk forth from the sewers ninja turtle style, coloured bandannas and all. Onto the main point of this article though, it seems hardly fair to review an event when hardly a soul save a handful of intrepid dance floor explorers (more on these later) were in sight. On the other hand, as Colours was the latest club night helmed by techno DJ du jour Elliot Clarke, it warranted at least a brief look in as his music policy never tends to disappoint.
Nor did it, and Colours shows a lot of potential should there be another installment, as its brief seems all about bringing the most upfront in tech house and techno, which notably and increasingly bears striking resemblance to the progressive house of yore; a detail doubtless of great importance to many. In keeping with that ethos, local stalwart Mike Redfern kicked off proceedings with a satisfyingly deep and at times funky style, his appreciation of tech house producers such as H.O.S.H. becoming increasingly obvious in his set. As necessary Baax brought things up a notch with some far heavier sounds; ones for those who think drums are the be all and end all of tech really!
Not to be outshone however, Elliot kicked the tempo up and stripped the arrangements back for some textbook minimalist techno. Unfortunately as with the hours previous, the dance floor remained determinedly empty, due no doubt to the activities downstairs and the still woefully quiet evening, none of which seemed to deter a couple of attempts at dancing. It appears that ‘air’ sports have migrated to the club dance floor. Attempt number two at busting a move from, let’s call him ‘pseudo-flouro’, combined punk pogo and basketball dribbling. That followed number one earlier in the evening that was confusingly caught between both the efforts on number two and some badminton-esque arm swings, none of which took any sense of rhythm into account. Some never learn.
Fuzion and Kris Ko were put in the booth to end proceedings, one after the other. The hour was late however and work was going to be incredibly painful the next day should another three hours have occurred so it was off home for me. Au revoir!
