The Hydra: Bugged Out & Bleed Pres. She Works the Long Nights with Karenn, Surgeon, and Midland. at Studio Spaces – Wapping, London

With all the clubs under the London sun gradually falling foul of various building projects, I am always keen to find new club venues in the city. I’ve not been to Studio Spaces before so was as keen to see the building as I was the DJs. For me a club night is the full experience, not just the line up.

Studio Spaces is a bit off the beaten track but still pretty easy to get to on the DLR. After some Google Map skills we arrived at 12:30am to a queue free entry and after a quick bag check we were in.

The place was rammed and really dark. Coming straight into such a crowded room from the bright, calm, quiet street was a bit of a shock to the system so we momentarily steered clear of the main room and headed off to the bar in the room behind. A large white painted room with a bar running the length of the back wall, was well lit and provided a great space for people to escape the dance floor and have a drink and a chat. It felt clean, modern and smart compared to a lot of other venues we go to these days, even if it is just a whitewashed warehouse; there is a lot to be said for a lick of paint and some simple lighting.

Midland was on the decks when we arrived but I can’t really comment on his set as I wasn’t paying attention whilst catching up with mates and grabbing drinks.   

I was eagerly awaiting Surgeon at 1am. The last time I saw him play was in 2001! Somehow I’ve been busy every single time he has played in London since! We battled our way in to the centre of the dance floor. It really was shoulder to shoulder packed, which is never a pleasant experience. The room was lit only by a few stationary red lights – a bit like at Lost when they only used to light the main room with one red light. There were a lot of very inebriated people about and a lot of chatting going on.

Surgeon’s first tracks eased us in with a melodic rhythmic vibe. We really couldn’t move to dance so inched closer to the back. It was no better there and we actually found a bit more space down near the front in the end. The comfort of space was short lived when a stream of people pushed in front of me. I was now standing behind that pain in the arse that is “the girl/guy with the rucksack.” I mean FUCK OFF. Outside of a festival situation there is just no need to be parading about with a huge bag on a dance floor. I have learned that the things that annoy me on a dance floor inevitably annoy everyone else too; I never even wear a handbag, never mind a rucksack. No one will ever get hit on every beat, or get dragged along by a bag, attached to me. Leave your life in the cloakroom and shove your lip balm and cash in your pocket please and thanks.

Between the rucksack assaults, I was getting pretty distracted from the tunes. That coupled with the very low volume on the sound system meant that I was starting to lose patience so decided to go for a well-timed loo break.

The queue for the girls’ toilets was huge. 15 people in the queue, but at least the corridor we queued in was bright and airy and we were in no one’s way. The queue did move pretty quickly and was well marshalled by the attendants. It was worth the wait… each toilet at the venue was in it’s own separate room – no cubicles. Each one looked newly decorated and had a new sink, nice soap, a working hand dryer and was cleaned between every use by the attendants. I tipped big – for this was truly the best club toilet I have seen in London in recent times. As anyone who knows my views on such things will realise- this is high praise indeed.

Back to the dance floor with fresh ears I noticed how much Surgeon’s sound has matured since I last saw him all those years ago. The praise heaped on him by my mates was indeed valid. Hard, strong beats drummed out, still with a modicum of melody, varied mid range and enough skill to keep things really interesting. He was smashing it. Pounding bass beats and chaotic melodies. Great build ups and breaks. My only moan was the volume, which was in no way loud enough. I could hear the hint of sub bass but it was pathetic. Had the volume been up to scratch then this truly would have been a set worth waiting years for. I felt a bit cheated. Clouds “Chained to a Dead Camel” muffled up out of the speakers, Ruskin’s mix of Marcel Dettmann’s “Corbox” broke out above the chatting crowd and then a roar went up as Whitehouse vocals quite literally made noise. The speakers were so muffled you can’t understand a word.

Generally, Surgeon was a lot less hard than I was anticipating: Every time things got a little melodic it was delicious and was always followed by a massive break into something slamming.

Next up were the big draw of the night – an hour live set from Karenn – the techno coupling of Pariah and Blawan. Straight in there with some huge womping bass, the sound quality was immediately ten times better. It is pretty annoying when it appears that a system has been specifically sound checked for one act and not changed for anyone else but that appears to be what perhaps occurred. Karenn delivered huge techno rattlesnake sounds with huge metallic claps smashing through the PA, accompanied by relentless unforgiving bass.

Karenn are amazing, I only wish I could have seen them. They must have been either sitting down to play or are actually dwarves. Wherever I stood I could only just catch a glimpse of a fringe but no matter – I was too busy enjoying their really deep bass lines breaking like a thunderstorm. The walls were finally shaking.

At one point I felt like I was inside a huge clock. The second hands ticking “tss tss tss tss”; minutes tocking “boom boom boom boom.”

Mechanical, robotic, hypnotic, fully absorbing beats evolved into a huge electronic swarm of bees moving as one this way and that, just like the crowd. Finally every single person on the dance floor was eyes front and dancing. Sweat dripped from every brow. Just as it gets almost too much to handle Karenn change gear into a deeper melodic bass line then hammer it out all over again before ending in a flourish of winding down engine sounds.

Sunil had a tough job to follow Karenn and he did well by all accounts. I however didn’t stick around for his whole set. Nothing for me was going to live up to Karenn and I wanted to leave on a high note – which is just as well because that good mood lasted most of my ridiculous 2 hour night bus journey home. Next time I get a cab!