Dave Swindells

Back in April, Dance Tunnel in Dalston announced that it would be shutting as a result of an impossible ‘licensing climate’ in Hackney. Now the venue’s last weekend has finally arrived. But there is a silver lining: an opportunity for a mega free-entry blow-out on closing night. London’s clubs have a tradition of going out with a bang; let's revisit some of the greatest… Talkin' Loud and Saying Something, 1991 © Dave Swindells On Sunday afternoons in Camden in the late ’80s and early ’90s, you could mooch around Camden Lock Market – or you could sidestep the stalls and jump into Talkin' Loud and Saying Something at Dingwalls. The painted-black venue was rough and ready, but the atmosphere generated when Gilles Peterson, Patrick Forge and Kevin Beadle played was really special. They mixed music for the finest jazz dance crews – soulboys and girls, ravers, trendies and tourists – creating a magical freestyle fusion: hard bop, Brazilian beats, hip hop, Latin breaks, house, Stevie Wonder… The queue for the finale snaked down Camden High Street and the sweat streamed down the walls. ‘I don’t know how many encores we played,’ recalls Patrick Forge, ‘but the final tune was “Family Affair” by Sly & The Family Stone, because it was like a family breaking up.’ Amazingly though, the club spirit lives on at brilliant bi-annual parties – the next one on December 4 at (the new) Dingwalls. The Wag, 2001 © Chris Sullivan It was May Day in 2001, but the West End was nearly deserted after

Leigh Bowery © Werner Pawlok This week, at wonderfully camp boozer The Glory in Hackney, Londoners will pay tribute to a man whose all-too-brief life continues to influence the way we think about gender, performance, drag and the art of dressing up for a night out. Leigh Bowery influenced everyone from Lady Gaga to Grayson Perry, Alexander McQueen to Lucien Freud. The event, organised by Amy Grimehouse and Bowery's friend Sue Tilley, is called 'The Legend of Leigh Bowery'. So, what made him a legend? Allow this Time Out piece, published in appreciation of Leigh shortly after his death on New Year’s Eve 1994, to bring you up to speed…   Picture this. A man is propped against the bar at a London nightspot, suffering the effects of one too many party pills. Looking around, his eyes focus on a colourful being (probably male, though he can’t be sure) parading towards him. Our hapless party animal turns to the nearest friendly face, waves in the general direction of the apparition and pleads: ‘Tell me you can see that too!’ Leigh Bowery had that effect on people. Born in 1961 and raised in the Melbourne suburb of Sunshine, Bowery moved to London in 1980, drawn by tantalising images of the post-punk club scene. He arrived as the New Romantics were taking up residence at venues like the Blitz. One of his first gigs was working on the video for Bowie’s ‘Ashes to Ashes’. It wasn’t long before he left his own heroes in the shade. Bowery’s passion for provocation took many forms. In the