I have spent some considerable time since the closure
of Canal 125, looking for a new home for Tanz Macabre; one that meets the very
specific criteria required for the night to continue on it's own unique path. I
have investigated many venues but unfortunately have not been able to find one
that 'ticked all of the boxes' within the set time frame. This, in combination
with other lesser factors, has led me to make the decision to bring Tanz
Macabre to a close. I have achieved more than I ever hoped for with the night
and I think that the time is right to end on a high, without the fear or
possibility of lowering standards or repetition.
Thank you to Lucia for being the 'Hostess With The Mostess',
Ben for being my fellow resident Dj, Paul for being our very regular guest Dj
and to all of those who came before him. I want to thank everyone who has
worked with us behind the scenes or contributed to Tanz Macabre in any way and
helped to make it London's longest running independent Gothic night.
Most importantly, I would like to especially thank everyone
over the years who has attended, supported and joined with us for 'An Evening
Of Terpsichorean Terror'! With seven venues over eleven years, it has been a
combination of Ghost Train and Roller Coaster & I hope that you have
enjoyed the ride. : )
I first found my way to Tanz in the middle of 2007. Once I
and Dr Bones had called it a day, I decided to re-establish my links
with the Goth world, mainly in order to have some social life beyond the
ever-so-slightly cloying environment of the Church. After Mass at Lamford one
Sunday I donned my pseudo-Victorian gear and caught the train to London. The venue
was the Arts Theatre Club in Frith Street, Soho. You’d disappear down a
staircase off a usually busy London street, into the Stygian depths – that was
a proper Gothic experience, that was – have your hand stamped and emerge into
the tiny space that somehow managed to cram in a bar, fireplace, piano (which I
think I actually witnessed someone
try to play once – sadly not Ms Death-and-Taxes who is actually quite an
accomplished pianist) – a wee dancefloor and a couple of cushioned C-shaped
seats around tables. On busy nights, moving round was something of a challenge,
but it was always fun. That first night I was on my own, and knew I think
nobody else there at all, and went back home relatively early too, but in that
couple of hours surrounded by loud music and sable-clad revellers (and cake, it
was clearly someone’s birthday) I could feel stress and unhappiness draining
gradually away: to be somewhere I had no responsibilities, with nothing to do
but look and listen, and disappear into the umbrageous surroundings.
Tanz was ideal for me, as it opened at 6pm and closed at 11,
allowing time to catch the last train home – even when I moved further out to
Swanvale Halt, it could be done if I parked the car at an intervening station. I
could rush off straight after an evening service and have a good couple of
hours there, and still arrive home at a time which was not entirely
unreasonable: the same couldn’t be said for the Saturday evening clubs, as they
tended not to get going much before midnight by which time I had to be gone.
As is often the way with such events, the Arts Theatre Club owners
decided they wanted to refurbish the basement bar, and, while the Tanz
organisers assured everyone that they expected their ousting was only temporary, somehow the club never went
back. Instead it ended up on a boat moored off Embankment, which had a
similarly quirky identity although – for me – never quite the charm of the
elegant basement dive I’d got to know. I once took Cylene along and within 15
minutes we were heading back to Waterloo for a coffee as she’d turned
dreadfully seasick. When Tanz moved again, it was to Canal 125 in Kings Cross.
I and Ms Formerly Aldgate tried it out a couple of times, but while clambering
up and down narrow staircases from one space to another offered an intriguing
experience you couldn’t see who was coming and going and if you wanted to find who
was about you’d have to pick up your drink and wander around. Far
more importantly, Tanz not only had to shift venue but also time, to Friday night, which made it feel
less special, more like a standard club night and less like the gentle
come-down from the weekend the Sunday occasion had been. And of course my life
shifted too, and I hadn’t been for ages. So although Faith mentions seven venues in his valediction, I can only recall three.
Running a club of any kind can be a thankless task and I was
always tickled when Faith thanked me for coming even though he had very little
idea who I was. Tanz – the Soho Tanz – will always be the Platonic ideal of the
Goth club I will retain, gratefully, in my memory.
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