So I tentatively went out on Wednesday night to see Richie Hawtin in Watergate, a club miss leadingly listed as "Der Drum-n-Bass Club in Kreuzberg" on their website. I've been to Watergate around 4 times now and not once have I heard drum and bass there. Update the site guys. The club is situated on the River Spree about 2 minutes walk from the U-Bahn station Schlesisches Tor. The club is notorious for being difficult to get into, large groups, cameras and visible displays of drunkenness are forbidden there. I had planned to meet up with a guy off this a website I joined recently called couchsurfing.org, a social network for travellers where people can meet up with like-minded people or stay on their couch if they're visiting their city. Its been a godsend for me. Since my arrival I've been out on 3 different couch surfing related events and I've already met people that I'll certainly stay in contact with...but I digress. I went out to meet a dude from this site who thankfully turned out to be great, Bogdan from Romania.
We started in Cake bar on Schlesische Str, around the corner from Watergate. Nice little spot with inoffensive music and friendly barstaff...and permission to smoke indoors. We were soon joined by Alex, a techno fiend from France, and thankfully a real nice guy. From there we went to a Spaetkauf where we bought some vodka and Club Mate and sat outside drinking. This sort of activity is common in Berlin where there's no laws against public drinking. Its telling of the German attitude that the only people I see visibly drunk on the streets are tourists. Time somehow ran away from us and we didn't actually arrive at Watergate until around 2.30. Early enough by Berlin standards but it was a holiday the next day (I think celebrating the assension of Christ in his rocket ship to heaven) and everyone and their mother was out on the town. After about 30 minutes of standing in the que we eventually made it in. Bogdan had never been there before and was practically jumping up and down with excitement.
The first thing you notice about Watergate is the sound system. Its bangs and pops perfectly without totally drowning out conversation. One of the clubs signature features is the ceiling lights that stretch from one end of the dancefloor to the next, undulating and shining in time with the music. When we got in some fairly generic techno was playing, it was ok but nothing exciting. Richie Hawtin came on at about 4 and immediately started a stonking set. The techno playing before him was good, but the jump in quality was immediately apparent when Richie started. Wave after wave of huffing, puffing, pumping, grunting techno washed over us. It had an organic quality that was more akin to tribal chanting then synthesised beats. This guy is clearly experienced and you can hear it.
Richie is 40, although his looks, attire and flock of seagulls haircut give him the air of someone in their mid-twenties. He's been djing for 2 decades and it shows. I got to go right up and see what was going on in his box. He had one monitor which was displaying Traktor and a huge interface with countless knobs and dials. The man was so natural and had such a deft touch that several times when I saw see him leaning over talking to people seemingly distracted his hands didn't stop working furiously for a second and not a beat missed.
After about 2 hours we went downstairs where Magda was playing. The difference in style at first was jarring, she was playing spaced out electro techno, stuff like Erland Oye, even almost Italo disco stuff. It was pretty eclectic but really on the spot. It drizzled funk all over us and sizzled us lightly until smiles were all around again.
We returned to Richie for what had to be the highlight of the night. I don't even know how to describe it. He basically went into a spiral of filthy acid sounds that really pushed the crowd. This was around 7am and you could see the crowd getting visibly tired. Techno isn't really even the word for what he was doing, a mash up of scagged out acid sounds that pushed the people there, the survivors, whose reward for their endurance was new heights of sonic entertainment. It was amazing. The three of us nearly died.
We went up and downstairs a bunch more times throughout the morning, each time being rejuvenated by the new sounds but eventually we had to retire. At 9 Bogdan and I left, while Alex stayed, aiming to continue dancing with the still substantial crowd that remained. He was still able to compete in the marathon but I wasn't. I left satisfied squinting in the sunlight and got my train home.
The first thing you notice about Watergate is the sound system. Its bangs and pops perfectly without totally drowning out conversation. One of the clubs signature features is the ceiling lights that stretch from one end of the dancefloor to the next, undulating and shining in time with the music. When we got in some fairly generic techno was playing, it was ok but nothing exciting. Richie Hawtin came on at about 4 and immediately started a stonking set. The techno playing before him was good, but the jump in quality was immediately apparent when Richie started. Wave after wave of huffing, puffing, pumping, grunting techno washed over us. It had an organic quality that was more akin to tribal chanting then synthesised beats. This guy is clearly experienced and you can hear it.
Richie is 40, although his looks, attire and flock of seagulls haircut give him the air of someone in their mid-twenties. He's been djing for 2 decades and it shows. I got to go right up and see what was going on in his box. He had one monitor which was displaying Traktor and a huge interface with countless knobs and dials. The man was so natural and had such a deft touch that several times when I saw see him leaning over talking to people seemingly distracted his hands didn't stop working furiously for a second and not a beat missed.
After about 2 hours we went downstairs where Magda was playing. The difference in style at first was jarring, she was playing spaced out electro techno, stuff like Erland Oye, even almost Italo disco stuff. It was pretty eclectic but really on the spot. It drizzled funk all over us and sizzled us lightly until smiles were all around again.
We returned to Richie for what had to be the highlight of the night. I don't even know how to describe it. He basically went into a spiral of filthy acid sounds that really pushed the crowd. This was around 7am and you could see the crowd getting visibly tired. Techno isn't really even the word for what he was doing, a mash up of scagged out acid sounds that pushed the people there, the survivors, whose reward for their endurance was new heights of sonic entertainment. It was amazing. The three of us nearly died.
We went up and downstairs a bunch more times throughout the morning, each time being rejuvenated by the new sounds but eventually we had to retire. At 9 Bogdan and I left, while Alex stayed, aiming to continue dancing with the still substantial crowd that remained. He was still able to compete in the marathon but I wasn't. I left satisfied squinting in the sunlight and got my train home.
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