Peace, Love, Unity, Respect and Nightlife.
Emotional arguments always trump the rational when discussing policy. So here’s a human way to think about nightlife, clubs and staying out late.
In the years since 2014, lockouts, shutdowns and cultural erosion have now become a global issue. With back-to-back protests happening in London and Sydney this weekend, one thing you can be sure of is that sensible voices will be drowned out in waves of emotionally charged hyperbole. Take it from a writer: that’s how media scare campaigns work.
This is something I was keenly aware of when I started working on our music plaques project six months ago, knowing full well that any rational case utilising stats or figures was always going to be obliterated by the emotional one.
It seemed logical to go with music, something we all have a personal relationship with, as a different way in to the argument. The campaign was bolstered by facts, but ultimately, it was based on feelings.
You might not go out anymore, but you still love Flume, Anna Lunoe, or RÜFÜS and listen to them every day. You see the link between the music you love, and a policy that endangers their creative expression.
Suddenly this problem makes sense to you. It matters.
In the case of the lockouts in Sydney and the closure of Fabric in London, the emotional feeling that trumps the rational is directly linked to untimely deaths of young people. Throw as many reports and anecdotes and graphs as you like at Baby Boomers, newspapers and lawmakers. Young boys taken in their prime will always win, even if far more of them die in road accidents, or at the grip of problem gambling.
So in the spirit of using the emotional to trump the rational, let me offer another thought on why a vibrant nightlife is imperative to a functioning society.
Sydney, like London, is divided into population zones. At a macro level, that’s East, West, North and South. Up until you’re eighteen years old, there’s not a huge chance that you’re going to encounter anyone outside of your zone unless you’ve reached an athletic or academic level that forces you to travel for competition.
I was that person. I went to a private school in Sydney’s East. My friends were all white. We played soccer against other white kids. Our drunken weekend parties had us hooking up with other white kids. Everyone’s mums drove four-wheel drives. None of my friends were Asian, Muslim, Indian or gay.
All of that changed the minute I left high school. I wish I could credit University wholly for it, but that would be a lie. When you go to a well-off school and you get good marks, you usually end up at a tertiary institution surrounded by people kind of like you and they form cliques quickly.
No, what really changed my worldview was going out dancing late at night.
These plaques commemorate some of the Sydney venues lost since lockouts — and the musicians whose careers were born in them.
Some of the most interesting and unique individuals I have come across in my three decades of life, I met in nightclubs. More than lecturers or tutors, they were the ones who challenged me to think about how I acted, dressed, talked and treated other people. They came from strange and unknown places, with alternate histories and undefined futures. Many of these people would become my friends, lovers, collaborators, co-workers and even employers.
Great venues, like Goodgod, Club 77 or The Hopetoun in Sydney, were not designed for us to hang out with the same people we already know. They rewarded positive energy, not getting wasted. By virtue of their ever changing programming, their emphasis on community and forward-thinking dancefloor policies, I was almost certain to make new friends that had very little in common with my background.
In 2016, we are more invested in our personal devices and Netflix than ever, stuck in endless social media echo chambers that bounce our prevailing attitudes right back at us. Going out at night is one of the few ways to get our shit into perspective, appreciate that life and our city is bigger than us and actually embrace diversity without it being a hackneyed advertising buzzword.
This is crucially important. For my younger cousins and the next generation of teenagers currently finishing school, a dearth of late night venues will mean less reason than ever to go out. They will remain siloed to their zones, perhaps venturing to a pub or restaurant every so often, but never having to get outside of what is comfortable. To put it frankly, the white kids will just stick with the other white kids.
True, this notion hasn’t been articulated as directly as some of the other issues around decaying nightlife, from public safety to civil liberties. But it’s arguably as important. We live in a world where Donald Trump is running for President, Pauline Hanson has two seats in the Senate and far right parties are storming into parliament across Europe. If there was ever a time for Peace, Love, Unity and Respect, a collective concept borne from rave culture, you’re living in it right now.
So please, keep Sydney, London, and every other city open late, tolerant and proud. The next generation depends on it.
