#31 __ the warehouse

It begins with subtle hints from the promoter. Genuine excitement creeps through in the copy. This isn’t manufactured hype. Something special is afoot.

The rumors spread. One person says they heard it’s a new space. They don’t know where. Good omens, but too early to get hopes up. A few days later, someone says they know someone who’s seen it. It’s the real deal. One word unleashes the anticipation: warehouse. Not some janitorial closet. Not a legal venue masquerading as underground, hamstrung by years of compromise. A proper warehouse.

The email goes out and the rumors are confirmed: a fresh address. The street view on Google Maps shows promise — a large building, industrial, nondescript aside from a few layers of graffiti. The instructions lend additional thrill: don’t go through the front door. Be discreet. Protect the space.

Walk to the location and try not to look clueless on approach. Spot the bouncer, inevitably clad in black. Round the corner past some trucks and there’s the door. A faint thump of bass. This is the place. Here we go.

Nothing else is like the first walk through a new space. What was this place meant for? What is it now? What will it be in six hours?

Through the lobby, past what was once reception. A presentable facade, likely a place where Undoubtedly Important Business was once conducted, some years ago. Scattered leftovers of anonymous office life here and there — desks, chairs, clipboards.

Down the stairwell. Nod to the bouncer. Underground. Exposed pipes and metallic fixtures appear. Signs of raw industry. Dirt and grime are welcome here. The bass gets louder.

Through another hallway, bathed in red light. Then — beautiful, glorious — a wide expanse opens up, dissected only by pillars of thick steel. Smooth concrete floors and a tall ceiling. Room to move and breathe and explore. A wall of speakers at the far end. A thin mist of fog. All the necessary ingredients.

It’s real. The anticipation is fulfilled. A genuine, honest-to-god warehouse. Unadorned and undesigned; an indifferent space that just so happens to suit our purposes for the evening. No windows. No way for the morning sun to intrude. Down here, it’s just us and the music.

A moment to absorb the glory, and then a walk around the perimeter. What are the boundaries of this space? In the darkness and fog, just finding all the walls takes some time. Such a vast expanse; has the party established structure? Are there places to rest? To socialize? How will the crowd flow and congregate? Where is the sound focused? Where will the core of the dance floor be?

The answers are never clear at the beginning of the night. It takes time to settle into the space, to understand its strengths and weaknesses. One of the purest joys of partying in new venues is observing how this all plays out over the course of the night.

As more people arrive, there is universal excitement among the regulars. No one has seen this space before. The music and crowd are almost an afterthought; everyone is thrilled at the raw potential. It easily fans the flame of imagination.

This is the fundamental difference between warehouse and club. The club will always be a single vision, a particular interpretation of the dance experience with arbitrary limitations and boundaries. It can never transcend the party to become a rave. The warehouse has no such restrictions. It is a blank canvas waiting to be fulfilled. In the right hands, it can become anything.

Thank you so much for reading.

previously on outer ][ space:

• #30 __ the good old days
• #29 __ sustain-release
• #28 __ i’ve seen you around