| April 30, 2010 9:00 pm | to | May 1, 2010 4:00 am |
It’s the end of an era – Black Widows is finally shutting down. It’s a little saddening (but what on the goth scene isn’t, right?) as it was a good haunt for the people that were more than happy to take the scene with a grain of salt, a little pseudoephedrine, and a lot of good humour. (more…)
Having gone to Golgotha last night, it occurs to me that a lot of promoters really… well… can’t.
Promote that is.
If it got any worse, there'd be tears of blood
I’ve decided that as I endeavour to make GothClub.com.au more of a site that is of actual use to the Australian gothic community, rather than something for the amusement and blitherings of myself & select friends, that I’ll be putting up a list of clubs that are on around the country, special events, etc., and a little bit of detail on everything that I can get. I was also hoping that a few people from interstate might even consider writing reviews for their local haunts and keeping me updated with events that are happening outside of Victoria
To that end, I decided to do some serious research on the national goth scene and found something that really flabbergasted me.
The majority of goth clubs are really poorly promoted. (more…)
Location: Insignia (corner of Flinders & Kings streets)
In short: Went to Black Widows on the weekend. Good time, no head-ache, reasonable conversation.
Crowd Type: Furries, Tamagothies, Cyberpunks, Generics
Drinks: Standard prices, no premiums other than beer.
Music: Mostly industrial and EBM.
I’ve gotta say, I’ve enjoyed getting back into the scene lately, and this is one of the Melbourne goth clubs that actually does it for me.
Possibly because nearly a decade ago I supplied Myki, the promoter, some 15gb worth of music and he’s been playing mostly the same tracks since, but mostly because it’s not quite so stereotypical a ‘club’, goth or otherwise.
One of the things that irks me about clubs is that people form cliques. If you’re new and don’t know anyone, it’s often bloody hard to actually get to know people. Between the music basically destroying any chance of having a conversation, and people assuming you’re a sexual predator if you want to buy them a drink, you usually have Buckleys. Added the regular “air-hair-lair” snootiness that’s tied in with the old school goth scene, or the “Oh, I’m an electro-steam-graver and you’re not” endless subdivisions in the younger crowd, it’s nice to go to place where people will actually be friendly.
That’s not to say there aren’t established groups at BWs, but they’ll more often than not talk to you if you want in on the conversation, and there’s a bit of diversity in crowd types between the cliques in the first place. It’s also not to say it’s not the kind of club that you can’t go to to hookup. Quite the opposite in fact. This weekend, pretty much anyone that tried (or didn’t… remember, act nonchalant!) managed to get somewhere from what I saw. But unlike a lot of other crowds, you’re not on auto-shun if people know you’re already taken.
All up, an enjoyable night out.
So, as some of you may know, I help out with the promotions and running of Black Widows nightclub in Melbourne.
Last weekend, I was door bitching for the night, missing out on all the fun… or so I thought.
In steps two young gentlemen wearing blue jeans and plaid shirts. Oh dear, methinks, here we go again.
The first one steps up to the plate “Hey, is there a cover charge?”
“Yes,” I reply, “It’s $10 this evening, or $8 with a flyer.”
They step back and confer for a bit. The second one steps up “What kind of club is it?”
“It’s a gothic club, gentlemen.”
“Oh… Are there chicks in there?”
“Yes.”
“Are they hot?”
I raise an eyebrow, already knowing where this is going, and comtemplating whether or not to tell them about the ‘traps’. I decide not to and press on with “Some of them, certainly. It’s like any other nightclub in that respect.”
“Yeah, yeah. Are they up for it?”
“I think you’ll find they certainly are,” I respond, a hint of a smile playing at my lips “but you may find that you’re not quite into what they are into…”
They look at each other before the first asks “What do you mean?”
I simply make a spanking gesture.
“Oh, they’re into spanking?”
“The nice ones are. If that’s a problem, you probably don’t want to know what the others are into.”
They step back again, and talk to each other for a moment, taking side long glances at me.
“You know what, we’ll probably be back a bit later.”
Sometimes, there’s fun to be had in the most boring of places.
