Bleeps: Trentemoller // The Ocean Rooms

Photo by Marek Richter

Saturday 11th March, 2006 Bleeps present Trentemoller + Carl Faure, Anwar (Covert), etc

The odds were always stacked against me seeing German tech maestros Trentemoller in Brighton tonight. I should have been job-hunting in London, and taking a break from this hedonistic nonsense. A new suit, a bit of part-time work lined up and a soon to expire return ticket to Brighton seemed like justification enough to forget my bleak, East London existence for a (long) weekend though. I rendez-voused with some new French friends for the first time, in the Heart and Hand, fearful of Gauloise-puffing intellectualism, berets and intimidating Anglophobia. Instead I was greeted with open smiles, good conversation and an alleged fondness for my backside from one party, which is always a bonus. I still didn’t fancy the prospect of screamed pleasantries in a busy nightclub, but with the jukebox on an interminable 80s Matchbox loop any way, and a couple of drinks deep, it didn’t seem to matter any more.

First stop was the much-loved, but frankly skeleton-closet environment of Detournement. The regulars are such a part of the furniture there that they may as well upholster themselves in wipe-clean synthetic leather, but it lends a warm, house-party vibe to the club. In keeping with this vibe, the club seemed to forget to charge most people who came through the door as well, which was a good excuse for some benvolence at the bar. As ever, the B’Lo sound-system spewed out a seamless dirge of muffled musical haute-couture that was conducive to little more than Converse shuffling, and fringe-whipping, and makes the DJs sound like the best mixologists around (they’ll be the first to tell you they’re not). That’s the way we’ve come to know it and love Detournement though, and it seems to fit that way, like a well-battered pair of drainpipes. It wasn’t long however, before our hips demanded movement of a more primal kind though, so no sooner had the clock struck 12:30, we were out on the cold streets again and on our way to the Ocean Rooms.

More by fortune than design, the Ocean Rooms really showed us how an entrance to a club should be in the small hours. I had speculatively requested cheap list for the night (I believe enquiries should be made to carl@bleeps.org for future events), but was told by local wag, The Perv, that no such a list existed. Before a tail was spontaneously grown between my legs though, two playing cards were produced from his sleeve and myself and my faithful Fusion sidekick, Hianta, were let loose on the venue for free. As we, and our wallets grinned from ear to ear (doesn’t your wallet have ears?), we entered the sweat-drenched downstairs room to a thrilling maximal techno assault, and a reassuringly well populated dancefloor. This was the final embers of what looked to have been a quite incendiary set, but it didn?t seem to matter to us tired souls, as any more excitement and we might have combusted there and then.

It was a shame to miss one of the most exciting, and versatile production stars on the techno scene playing in our humble city, but this jaded dance fan for one is happy just to know that the likes of the Bleeps collective are going to continue to put on artists of this calibre, and promote things the way things should be promoted. It’s pleasing to see Carl Faure in this new lease of life playing out to a grateful crowd, and exorcising the ghost of his ill-fated Union residency. Local minimal mentor, and smiley face about town, Anwar from Covert records, also played a satisfying mix of the best minimal hits du jour, as things were taken down a level or two from Trentemoller?s head-banging techno, to some thing altogether more trippy. It?s a relief to leave a Brighton Saturday-nighter with a renewed optimism about the future of the local scene, and I wish the best of luck to the Bleeps with their forthcoming events, and star bookings. Their after-hours at Sumo was a bit too much for this particular browbeaten b-boy, but by all accounts there are few better ways to spend a Sunday morning.

Introducing Fusion’s new Frenchy Fox, Hianta’

Arriving fifteen minutes before the end of the Trentemoller set makes it a bit hard for me to write a proper review, especially in ‘Anglais’, which is evidently not my natural language. However, Cas Cool seems to be the king of bullshitting, so I’m confident he has written an amazing one. As for me, I pretty much did a complete sociological analysis of the club population while head-banging to the cold beats. Quite an interesting one as well, but this is neither the time nor the place to discuss my skills of analysis. We’ll see in two years time when my book ‘Ocean Rooms Peeps’ how the Bleep do they do it?? hits the best seller section of trendy bookstores all over. One thing, however: if your name is Chris, you’re 26 and you dance like a deranged mother fucker, please contact me. I think I have found what you were looking for!

Oh, and the floor in this club is way too sticky. It tried to persuade me to part with my new shoes far too soon!

And I’m spent, good night.

The Ocean Rooms
http://www.oceanrooms.co.uk/

1-2 Morley St
Brighton,
BN2 9RA

01273 699069

info@oceanrooms.co.uk

Words: Casper Clark

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