Kink: peculiarity or deviation in sexual behaviour or taste.

I see.

Reunion: a planned event at which members of a dispersed group meet together.

Right.

Hear those two words in succession, alongside the idea of a Saturday night out, and you’d probably visualise some sort of meeting of decrepit individuals, sex-crazed deviants, all keen to rekindle days gone by, and get down and dirty in the way that they knew best. Of some possible concern, but certainly outweighed by the fact that it sounds like a hell of a lot of fun. Truth be told, when it came to Saturday night, it wasn’t all that far from the truth.

From the moment the Kink Reunion was thrown up as an idea, the excitement was palpable. Ticket sales were but one illustration of it. This was a night that ran for a number of years, but for many, it was so much more than that, creating a sense of family that went with it. The regulars dominated online forums, posting pictures and video of times gone by, and reminisced about the fun that had come with it. By the time Saturday night finally arrived, and there were two lines, snaking around each corner of the Arthouse just to get in, we knew we were in for a treat. We were going to have some serious fun.

The old ‘breaks’ room had been brought back for the special occasion, and as one walked in and turned their attention to their right, the noise and atmosphere coming out of it, was pretty much what Kink had always been about. Heading into the main room, and it was much the same. People everywhere, and DJs behind the decks having a lot of fun and always doing their best to get the crowd involved, and as he was for all those years – the creator of Kink, Scott Robertson – once again, egging the party on. Those up the front looked up at their long-lost DJs like some demigods, in awe of them. Slightly concerning perhaps, but hey, they were good times that these people had, and all the memories were arguably rushing back.

Speaking of memories, the tunes came out thick and fast, and with Telefunken pumping out some nice chunky electro early on, the scene was set. Goodfella followed up nicely and ripped out some tunes that sent the party faithful into a frenzy. They might not be ‘classics’, but in their time, they caused many a stir, and tunes like the Mylo remix of No More Conversations from Freeform Five, a mashup of Zdarlight from Digitalism, and He Not In from Chicken Lips, had the crowd responding exactly how you thought it should at a reunion: hands raised, claps a plenty, all nodding knowingly at the ‘oh-my-god-get-the-fuck-out-I-remember-this-tune’ sensation pumping through all.

Meanwhile in the Broke-N-Beats room it was still all systems go, the likes of James Taylor and Tom Piper taking people on their own respective trips down memory lane, as did the Jackal, reminding people of the fun that they all used to have together. All the while, people would spot a familiar face, kiss here, cuddle there, and be on their way.

Outside though, it was more like a high-school reunion. Boys on one side, girls on the other? No. But just a lot of people actually catching up, and not much interest in the music. As the night progressed it became more so, the outside area becoming increasingly uncomfortable; a mission to the bathroom, proving to be as difficult as lining up at the bar.

Back inside the likes of Shamus, John Glover, and Ben Morris kept on keeping on, and in between making sure they got in as many photos to remember the night, they kept the tunes pumping. Tunes from the likes of Trentemoller, Royskopp, Mylo and The Egg, which we hadn’t heard in years, all got their time in the sun again. There were no displays of technical wizardry here; just tune after tune, in line with what Kink was remembered for. That, together with a good crowd, and a damn good time.