The round house we never had a generator… Had to hotwire, FACT, I was there when it was done… not saying I did It.
Thanks to Snufkin for this comment:
I was at the Roundhouse gig on New Years Eve too. At the time it was derelict and owned by the Metropolitan police. the entrance was blocked with several hundred tonnes of rubble, totally filling the access road. Didn’t stop the Normals drving the rig and genny in on a six six-wheel-drive Militant that used to belong to Moscow State Circus, strainght over the top. Another crazy night. Next night wasn’t so great, after the security had done too much coke and gone to sleep and every mugger in London moved in.
The power was stolen from a light socket owned by British Rail at the back of the building and the system went off at 6:30 in the morning when they turned the lights off. Someone then found an alternative power source.
There are also some lovely pics and a flyer from this party over at:
Again, we heard about it at the time but didn’t attend. Remember hearing rumours about muggers, but also about what an amazing venue it was. Were you there? What was it like? Got any photos or flyers? Also, there seems to have been a Christmas Eve party (also Spiral). Anyone know about this? We’ll create another post for it.
That Ascot party was awesome. Last day of November 1991 and it was cold, minus ten at least I’d say. We had been living there ten days or so, on the site of a demolished jet engine factory called Staravia. The site had been used for storing pea gravel so there were mounds of the stuff everywhere and huge ruts frozen solid.
… Easygroove turned up with the whole Circus Warp crew and added their tent onto our shambles. Spirals turned up later and they had to stay out in the cold. I remember walking away from the party at one point, tripping my tits off I turned back to look. There were 5000 people raving in a bodged together tent and the heat of their bodies formed a fog around the tend, which pulsed and throbbed with the lights. As I watched, the fog sat up on its haunches, like something ethereal out of ghostbusters, smiled a snaggletooth smile at me, winked and then settled back down again, curling itself around the party contentedly. No, really!
I can’t remember how long we partied for, maybe til tuesday, it got pretty twisted by the end. I had the burner going in my trailer all the way through and the site was big enough that it was possible to sleep now and then, but I don’t remember too much sleeping..
We’d heard about this before, but thanks again to Snufkin for filling us in on some of the details:
That Ascot party was awesome. Last day of November 1991 and it was cold, minus ten at least I’d say. We had been living there ten days or so, on the site of a demolished jet engine factory called Staravia. The site had been used for storing pea gravel so there were mounds of the stuff everywhere and huge ruts frozen solid.
We held a party the previous week, had no tent, but the factory site was a big concrete pad with rows of pine trees down both sides, so we borrowed (?) some scaffolding and tarps and strung up a makeshift marquee. We had no rig either, the one we usually used wasn’t available, but we phoned a number from the classified adds in Sounds and managed to book 6k of brand new Peavey Turbosound. The owners were bikers who had never seen anything like us, but fair play, they were up for it. The party rocked, for a few days and Easygroove played. In the morning he asked if we would host his birthday bash. Sure we said, if we ain’t evicted. We had been partying and being moved on for a few months by then. We were all quite surprised to still be there on Friday.
UPDATE 18.3.11: Most commenters are saying this was pre-Castlemorton,and we just noticed a reference to Lechlade (misspelled as Lechale) being the previous weekend in this newspaper article, so we’ve changed the title. If anyone can confirm the date, please let us know in the comments! Thanks :)
Eric sent us this clipping from the paper. Nice one :)
A mate of ours remembers that the police turned up at some point to try and shut it down, realised it was too big to stop, and buggered off again :) …
Here’s some more memories:
a guy pulled a gun on someone and spiral stopped the music and said that it wasn’t on, so get the fuck out of here.. all the ravers boo’d the gun guy until he had no choice but to leave.
music back on, party continued.
it was a pretty crazy party all told. getting there was quite a mission as well, climbing up that hill. I think the soundsystem caught fire at the beginning, or some wires did anyway. and then eventually it all kicked off. great place to see the sunrise as well.
edit: also pretty funny to see people walking their dogs in the morning. what must they have thought!
Does anyone have an exact date for this? Or any more detailed memories?
23 January 1993
Spiral Tribe
Disused Depository, Brent Cross, London
Diary entry: Fucking too fucking good the most violent aggressive unmusical music I ever heard, fast noteless, tuneless grinding noise. Gave Mark lift in Tom’s car. Mental building.
Not sure how we got to this party but when we arrived Tom asked me if I could go and pick up Mark from Spiral Tribe, who was still back at their squat on Uxbridge Road. Tom couldn’t because he was too out of it on ketamine already. I’d just taken some drugs, so it became a race against time driving across London before I came up. I picked up Mark, Sebastian and Emily, all clothed in black bomber jackets and combats with shaved heads. I felt a bit old skool Day-Glo in my orange jeans and tie-dye T-shirt.
The music that night was relentless pounding techno. And outside was the best collection of matt black traveller vehicles I’d ever seen.
UPDATE 30/09/09: Thanks to an old friend’s generosity we now have this flyer:
Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
Rumours from a source very close to Spiral Tribe at the time indicated that this never happened due to one of them doing a runner with the money and spending it on crack. So much for the ‘positive energy matrix’! The flyer below is for the free event that happened in its place:
So off my head rushing mulushing couldn’t stay in warehouse too much mental. People shouting at each other in time with the music – went in car – crowded to the brim – couldn’t skin up shaking so much. Back to Ben’s – watched Life on Earth DNA. Jake played music that bounced around the room.
We were parked outside the warehouse in my gold Mini Metro. There were about seven or eight people squeezed into the car in various states of drugged up-ness. A jar of mushrooms in honey was being passed around; Orbital was blasting out of the car stereo. I was in the driver’s seat desperately trying to skin up but rushing so much my eyes and mind couldn’t focus. The skins were all wrong, my hands were all wrong, and tobacco and hash were spilling everywhere. I began to feel claustrophobic and somewhat detached from the rest of the group. I stumbled out of the car and into the warehouse and I soon realised the party was really full on and I should have stayed within the relative safety of the car but by now the music from the sound system was drawing me in. I remember hearing Urban Shakedown’s “Do It Now”, and thinking that everyone in the party was shouting at each other in time with the music.
When morning came we could properly see where we were: a large warehouse surrounded by smaller derelict buildings. Cars were randomly parked everywhere. People perched precariously on top of tumble down buildings dancing to Ravesignal III’s “Horsepower”. Some ravers’ were trying to jump start a car. We should have helped them but with my acid raddled vision I believed they were all dribbling, long lines of spittle dripping off their chins. At the time Siobhan and I thought this was the funniest thing we’d ever seen.
At some point on Sunday afternoon we went back to Ben’s flat and Jake played music that bounced around the room as we watched a David Attenborough program on telly about DNA.
Thanks again to http://simonmathewson.blogspot.co.uk/ for the memories. Can anyone tell us which soundsystem this was for certain, and any other details about location? Thanks!
Diary entry: Spiral Tribe – Hammersmith and then…I don’t think so! Weird E’s that make you sick 6 hours later. Warm and tingly, empty head. Um…
The last free party I went to was in a disused (mental?) hospital in Hammersmith. The music was harder than ever; too fast to dance to and really distorted, with a barely decipherable Skallywag MCing over the top. The atmosphere was very edgy and the handful of people that were gathered round the sound system were kind of moshing. A running battle was taking place across the inside of the derelict building. Fired up on ketamine and Special Brew, the Bedlam crew were lobbing glass bottles across the room. On the opposite side some other ravers were smashing the bottles with dustbin lids held like shields, shards of glass were raining down across those that were brave enough to be on the dance floor.
I missed Castlemorton pbut I believe everyone who says it was wicked. Interesting that dr_box (see below) mentioned the police herding him onto the common, people often forget that the travellers and soundystems were pushed/chased there by the cops. By the way, if anyone has exact dates for this please let us know, we know it’s quoted as going on for 6 days, but we need some sort-of-facts! Thanks!
UPDATE 5.10.2012:
We came across three longish (slightly chewed) VHS videos of Castlemorton free festival recently. Thanks a million to youtuber discodelinquent (great name by the way!) for uploading them. Discodelinquent has also uploaded some footage from Sugarlump parties. We’ll probably do a post on Sugarlump sound system sooner or later… Meanwhile, enjoy these videos:
Here’s a quote about Castlemorton from ‘Adventures In Wonderland’ by Sheryl Garratt:
The following picture and article appeared with the headline: “Villagers threaten to burn out hippies -An illegal festival in the Malverns has driven people living near the site to breaking point”
Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.Here are a couple of videos, the first one’s been online for ages, the second one’s newer and includes some footage taken near the spiral rig-
Thanks youtuber Yangow for the first vid, and thanks youtuber hemustbemad for uploading the second (he credits his friend Matt with filming).
Old friend Atomic Robot Man was there, and he sent us this page from his diary:
The photos below are from George McKay‘s book ‘Senseless Acts of Beauty’ and I believe they were taken by Alan ‘Tash’ Lodge (whose excellent website you can find in the links on the right hand side of our main page.
Castle Morton was an experience.. I’d been visiting a mates place in East London and he was coming over to mine in the depths of West Wales afterwards. we’d heard that there was a festi down near Bristol that weekend, so set off on the hunt along the M4. At one of the service stations along the M4 we got a lift from a Green godess fire engine that was loaded down with kit and Hippies, it was one of the vehicles spiral tribe was using to get to the festival. As we got close we found out that the festival might not be on, so set off on a hunt. the police herded us up to Castle Morton, by the time we got close there were several miles of trucks and busses full of people. At one point the line stopped and a guy with us got out and started counting vehicles as he walked towards the front. when the line started moving again, he waited for us to catch up. he’d counted over seven hundred vehicles, and he hadn’t reached the front of the line.
When we got there, the sun was setting and from the hills overlooking the site you could see the site starting to pulse with light and hear blasts of sound as things were set up. Travelling off all the way to the horizon there was a ribbon of headlights delivering more people to the festival.
Blinding weekend, my mate had his first E experience, Watched the police try and drive through the centre of the crowd. they got stopped in the middle, and a nameless longhair got passed over the crowd, and started selling Acid off the bonnet of the police car. after futilely attempting to get out of the car the plod ended up just laughing at the sheer balls of him.
Nighttime had more than its fair quota of low flying helicopters with spotlights. (although someone did take a potshot at them with a firework)
Dance, dance, dance, dance. Non-stop fucking getting lost, Tom – K case, eyes bulging out, saw Grooverider or some DJ total fossilised face.
I don’t remember much about this party; according to my diary entry I danced a lot, so the music and drugs must have been good. There was a big bonfire outside the warehouse and at sunrise, as the drugs were wearing off I was invited out by a friend of mine to smoke some MDMA. That got me feeling pretty mashed again. For some reason I then found myself sat in DJ Loftgroover’s beige Jaguar, and I thought he looked like he had a fossilised face.
An anonymous contributor to the blog sent us this report:
Where to start? This was year zero for me in terms of parties, the first of which took place on February 22nd in a disused Unigate warehouse on a defunct industrial estate somewhere in West London.
We had originally intended to travel to a local party in the adjoining county, but as we were driving from meeting point to meeting point, we realised we were half-way to London anyway. Often, as the years progressed, this kind of mission ended in failure. But not this time.
We arrived, after a bit of fiddly driving, at a vast warehouse with large fires burning outside. This was situated on a large patch of rubbly wasteground adjoining the main road.
I remember remarking at the time that I felt like I was in a foreign country. There is nothing quite like realising that you have just entered a country within a country where no/new rules apply and the only goal is hedonism. The party seemed to be everlasting (although us lightweights chickened out by Sunday afternoon).
I can still remember the pit-of-the-stomach, wobbly legged euphoric feeling of entering that warehouse. We had to enter via a door in the upper part of the warehouse, and descend a staircase into the depths of the party, all the while getting a bird’s eye view of the deafening and blinding spectacle. There was an incredibly intense vibe. The place was full of people dancing. The music was very hard, the lighting minimal. My first proper party was everything my friends had told me to expect and more.
There was one point in the night where I looked around for one of my travelling companions and he appeared at my side, however, as I looked, I started seeing double, and then in triplicate, and then there was a whole row of him!
The music I remember being very hard, the lighting was very minimal.
We felt like we were living in the future- the experience seemed so magical, so unlike anything in our everyday lives.
DJ’s? Unknown. Hours spent dancing? Can’t remember (but probably a lot). Amount of fun had? Immeasurable.
Very wonky ketamine, sooper speeding into space on a stormy boat. Mental muddy. So stringy Tai Chi movements, seriously who am I and do I care – whose anyone? Just move like this it’s ace.
Lying in the boot of X’s mum’s car; the rain lashing down; hard distorted techno coming out of the sound system, everyone on ketamine. Feeling like we were in a rocket rushing through a space storm. In the morning saw loads of K heads dancing on their knees in the mud and the DJ (Diola?) playing some Hawaiian steel guitar as the rain continued to pour down.
Here’s a report from an anonymous commenter:
The weather was so awful I think we ended up spending most of the party squashed up in someone’s car, getting to know new people who had clambered into the boot! I’m still friends with one of them today, by the way. Ketamine had become quite popular, and the combination of a rainy, muddy, windswept picnic area, wobbly, up for it party people, and nosebleed techno added up to a pretty loopy party. I, too, remember seeing people dancing to Hawaiian steel guitar music on their knees in the mud as it was getting light, and exhortations (maybe on the mic) from someone trying to get us to dance rather than cower in our cars. It was always risky to bring your rig out so it must have been disappointing to have made the effort only to be rewarded with the site of load of cars parked up, still with their passengers inside. I blame the weather. And the K, to some extent, but in those days K was cheap and new and fun, and, had the weather been better there would have been heaps of us wobbling about on the dancefloor. There were parties, too, though, even early in the nineties, where people really had overdone it on K and were lying around semicomatose. Not really an up for it happening party crew! I have the same feelings about GBL/GHB abuse. Anyway, at this early stage, K was fun, and made you feel like a drunk, happy, chatty robot. I can’t remember anything alse apart from was a confusing ketamised visit to the loo (er, not a loo as such but a very steep slope covered with nettles). Happy days.
Dance, dance, dance, dance. Non-stop fucking getting lost, Tom – K case, eyes bulging out, saw Grooverider or some DJ total fossilised face.
I don’t remember much about this party; according to my diary entry I danced a lot, so the music and drugs must have been good. There was a big bonfire outside the warehouse and at sunrise, as the drugs were wearing off I was invited out by a friend of mine to smoke some MDMA. That got me feeling pretty mashed again. For some reason I then found myself sat in DJ Loftgroover’s beige Jaguar, and I thought he looked like he had a fossilised face.
An anonymous contributor to the blog sent us this report:
Where to start? This was year zero for me in terms of parties, the first of which took place on February 22nd in a disused Unigate warehouse on a defunct industrial estate somewhere in West London.
We had originally intended to travel to a local party in the adjoining county, but as we were driving from meeting point to meeting point, we realised we were half-way to London anyway. Often, as the years progressed, this kind of mission ended in failure. But not this time.
We arrived, after a bit of fiddly driving, at a vast warehouse with large fires burning outside. This was situated on a large patch of rubbly wasteground adjoining the main road.
I remember remarking at the time that I felt like I was in a foreign country. There is nothing quite like realising that you have just entered a country within a country where no/new rules apply and the only goal is hedonism. The party seemed to be everlasting (although us lightweights chickened out by Sunday afternoon).
I can still remember the pit-of-the-stomach, wobbly legged euphoric feeling of entering that warehouse. We had to enter via a door in the upper part of the warehouse, and descend a staircase into the depths of the party, all the while getting a bird’s eye view of the deafening and blinding spectacle. There was an incredibly intense vibe. The place was full of people dancing. The music was very hard, the lighting minimal. My first proper party was everything my friends had told me to expect and more.
There was one point in the night where I looked around for one of my travelling companions and he appeared at my side, however, as I looked, I started seeing double, and then in triplicate, and then there was a whole row of him!
The music I remember being very hard, the lighting was very minimal.
We felt like we were living in the future- the experience seemed so magical, so unlike anything in our everyday lives.
DJ’s? Unknown. Hours spent dancing? Can’t remember (but probably a lot). Amount of fun had? Immeasurable.
Update: Darren sent us his account of the night, thanks Darren! Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
A chapter from my life where I attempted to rescue an invisible girl from the murky depths of a quarry
Darren Worrow
It’s 2015 and I’m just a shitty delivery driver blindly following a sat-nav through Oxfordshire, that’s how much I progressed in my life. Yeah could blame it on my youth, but I’d rather not reminisce on the endless parties, psychedelia and various shenanigans. Much as nostalgia gratifies me, they all blur into one great festival of perpetual hedonism. But memories slip into the empty fish-tank of my head whilst voyaging along these monotonously congested roads.
Using back roads I’m passing through the sleepy village of Cassington, a shard of recollection sweeps, a chapter from my life where I attempted to rescue an invisible girl from the murky depths of a quarry with a lone traveller non too impressed by the authenticity of the emergency.
Thing is there seems to be no sign of a railway track here and I distinctly recall a train track in which “ravers,” as they were termed during the period, were sternly warned by the master of ceremonies, not to sunbathe or even wander the train track, being it was a train track and well, trains tend to trek along them; understandable concern really.
I find, some way out of the village a railway over a bridge, I stop there for a smoke-o and scan the horizon for a quarry. Yeah this must be the track but, jaded as my memory is, I know accurately there was a quarry too; have good reason to.
Does it matter, why do I feel the need to locate the sites of these wild free raves for anyway, to relish in memories of gold, to recapture my youth, or simply to have confirmation these things really happened at all?
You see if you came here looking to precise details about the event I apologise, it may be the passing of the years, or the man in the Brocade trilby and puffer-jacket who kindly sold me some party accessories, but my memory is jaded.
I cannot recall how I got there, estimating my friend and I scrounged a lift by hanging outside our local watering hole asking any passer-by if they were going to the party, as that was our usual method pre-driving test. With equal vagueness I recall getting home, but as for the bit in the middle, well, memories are fond and surprisingly vivid.
A year away from the supermassive events at Lechlade and Castlemorton this occasion was sizable, wedged in a valley between the train lines and the quarry, a grassland dancefloor was packed, with the sound system situated to the east and the car parking area to the west.
The party was humming and I did my traditional meandering away from friends who favoured loitering at the car parking zone. Still in darkness around the dance area I perchance to befriend a rather charismatic young lady with a Cheshire cat grin and eyes like saucers.
We danced for an undeterminable period, but time was never an issue here. Then we stepped back to take a breather where she kindly shared her bottle of water and lent me a chewing gum to ease my vibrating jaw, a symptom of the aforementioned party accessories.
At that time the modern designer drug they called simply “E” was costly compared with the price tag of later years, but rather than exorbitant they had a higher quality which the later versions simply never matched. Nevertheless budget was low and I would top up my experience with a square of cardboard they dubbed “acid.” In my infinite wisdom, rather than stash said cardboard square upon my person for later consumption, I feared I may lose it and therefore the best storage option I had was my stomach.
Miraculously I convinced the girl to saunter up the bank with me under the cunning temptation of constructing a cannabis cigar. We wandered and chatted, I expressed my emotional state; how in awe I was at the serenity and togetherness of the raves and pondered if only real life could harness this ethos. My profound ramblings were lost though when she turned her head and said, “You what mate? You’ll have to speak up; I’m partially deaf in this ear.”
Enjoying each other’s company, we covered some ground; over the bank and into dark reedy grassland. I stopped as the greenness below seemed to halt, there was a clear drop ahead; into a disused quarry, I was led to believe.
It was at this point I looked up to the starry night but as I dropped my head back to Earth she had vanished. I called her name and her reply came, “I’m down here!”
As much as the manner of intoxication caused a collective and calm experience, I fear meshed with the cardboard square, things tended to get muddled. I panicked, figuring she had fallen into the quarry. Had I turned around or at least sensed the voice came from behind and not in front of me, I may have realised she simply descended the bank, back towards the rave.
Rational thinking I called down, ordering her to stay there and I would get help. I shifted along the bank, plunging once I spotted a traveller’s coach. Figuring if anyone could assist it would be them; they were bound to have a rope if anyone here had. I threw myself at a large chap, attired in traditional traveller garb and crusty dreadlocks. After a short communication breakdown the kindly fellow realised I wasn’t seeking party accessories and managed to produce a tow-rope and powerful torch.
Not willing to part with them he joined me on the rescue. United we peered over the bank, I was certain I had returned to the exact point, he was doubtful of my sense of direction. The traveller shone his torch down there and called down, increasing his pessimism about my claim. I assured him it was real, even pointed out she was deaf in one ear.
As he grew fretful of my sanity, I grew concerned she was unconscious down there and tried to convince him I was authentically in trouble. He shook his head and instructed me to taunt the end of the towrope as he steadied himself and lowered himself down the perilous side of the bank. He scrambled a quarter down and shone his effective torch at the bottom of the dry quarry. Then returned to the surface to inform me he could not see anyone down there.
If I was sure, he ascertained with a sigh, we needed help. So we dashed to his coach to rally some able-bodied men. Upon our return I was dismayed, and looked out at the dancing ravers having fun, blissfully unaware of the peril one of their tribe was currently in. It was at that point one charismatic young lady with a Cheshire cat grin and eyes like saucers passed by, looking strikingly similar to the girl down the quarry. “Alright mate?” she grinned as she passed, “what happened to you, I was looking for ya?”
Once explained the situation to the travellers and made a quick exit, I referred the anecdote to the girl and she nodded her understanding but, was gone from my life as quick as she came into it; sensible choice really…..
Freepartypeople: Heard about this a looong time ago but didn’t attend it myself. Allegedly went on for 3 days and was still running on the Monday, hence the dates at the top of this post (Saturday 24th to Monday 26th).
Were you there? What was it like? Please leave a message in the comments.
We also found a drawing of the party, which is a first for this site Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view. http://www.flickr.com/photos/leehutchinson/542987905/
The same Flickr user also uploaded a newspaper cutting about the party: http://www.flickr.com/photos/leehutchinson/552921413/
Thanks whoever you are! I thought I’d link to your page rather than just nicking the image, ‘cos that’s not nice, I like what you’re written as well.
And here’s an Easygroove and DiY tape from the event. I listened to it a while back and I remember there’s a funny bit where he gets on the mic and starts complaining about a lack of Special Brew ;P It was a bit tricky to find, but we finally tracked it down on a Polish website!
Someone who was with the rig told us it was definitely 1992, only took us about 10 years to figure out this little riddle! Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
A fellow freepartyperson told us about this Bedlam party in an old library in Bromley.
“I was 16 and that was one of my first free parties! The whole calling the number from a phone box and going on a wild goose chase that involved walking alongside a dual carriageway was new to me! It was amazing though. A huge open room with very high ceilings and a very happy time.” She can remember is that it was quite derelict with a load of offices upstairs, and that she saw Lol Hammond (Drum Club) there.
This is what the building looks like nowadays, although much less squished ;D so open in a new window to see it in all its glory:
Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
Does anyone have any (no matter how scatty) memories about this? Leave a comment!
Dance, dance, dance, dance. Non-stop fucking getting lost, Tom – K case, eyes bulging out, saw Grooverider or some DJ total fossilised face.
I don’t remember much about this party; according to my diary entry I danced a lot, so the music and drugs must have been good. There was a big bonfire outside the warehouse and at sunrise, as the drugs were wearing off I was invited out by a friend of mine to smoke some MDMA. That got me feeling pretty mashed again. For some reason I then found myself sat in DJ Loftgroover’s beige Jaguar, and I thought he looked like he had a fossilised face.
An anonymous contributor to the blog sent us this report:
Where to start? This was year zero for me in terms of parties, the first of which took place on February 22nd in a disused Unigate warehouse on a defunct industrial estate somewhere in West London.
We had originally intended to travel to a local party in the adjoining county, but as we were driving from meeting point to meeting point, we realised we were half-way to London anyway. Often, as the years progressed, this kind of mission ended in failure. But not this time.
We arrived, after a bit of fiddly driving, at a vast warehouse with large fires burning outside. This was situated on a large patch of rubbly wasteground adjoining the main road.
I remember remarking at the time that I felt like I was in a foreign country. There is nothing quite like realising that you have just entered a country within a country where no/new rules apply and the only goal is hedonism. The party seemed to be everlasting (although us lightweights chickened out by Sunday afternoon).
I can still remember the pit-of-the-stomach, wobbly legged euphoric feeling of entering that warehouse. We had to enter via a door in the upper part of the warehouse, and descend a staircase into the depths of the party, all the while getting a bird’s eye view of the deafening and blinding spectacle. There was an incredibly intense vibe. The place was full of people dancing. The music was very hard, the lighting minimal. My first proper party was everything my friends had told me to expect and more.
There was one point in the night where I looked around for one of my travelling companions and he appeared at my side, however, as I looked, I started seeing double, and then in triplicate, and then there was a whole row of him!
The music I remember being very hard, the lighting was very minimal.
We felt like we were living in the future- the experience seemed so magical, so unlike anything in our everyday lives.
DJ’s? Unknown. Hours spent dancing? Can’t remember (but probably a lot). Amount of fun had? Immeasurable.
UPDATE 09/03/21: Here is a link to a graudian article that features a couple of beautiful black and white images from this event.
Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
freepartypeople says:
Flyer from my collection above. Here’s yet another report from Amino Clang, who’s now overtaken yours truly in terms of the amount of memories he’s contributed to the site Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view. Thanks again old friend. And for anyone else who’s got anything to contribute, please feel free, I’ll publish pretty much everything you write (as long as it’s about free parties from 91-94 in the UK)…
Not long after the New Year’s party in Uxbridge, there was another party in the same area billed as “Spiral Tribe’s last party in the UK”. It was to happen on Easter weekend and it was going to be a killer party.It was – this party had a profound effect on my being, my psyche, my understanding of raves and of Spiral Tribe. Allow me to elaborate…
When we found this party it was fuckin’ massive (I think there were three big rooms with three big sound systems, lots of freaky projections, lights, backdrops etc and shit-loads of ravers. The main room had two HUGE pyramids of speakers covered up with camo netting and banging it out at full tilt from the minute we got there until the minute we left (and then some).
This party was particularly interesting for me because I had two groups of raver mates – one group from Dorset (where my Dad lives) and another group from Wales (where I grew up and lived with my Mum) – but there were members of both groups of friends at this party. One of my mates from Wales gave me some free acid (always the best kind!) and as I was starting to come up a group of my mates from Dorset bumped into me (quite literally because of the “Super-K” they had all just done). One of them was lying on the floor in a bit of a pickle and because I was the only one who was not Ketamized, he was left with me. I got him to lie down a bit more comfortably and put his head on my lap and in an attempt to keep him calm I gave him a gentle head massage.
After a while I started to get a bit worried, but I was happy that he was still breathing so I asked somebody if they knew how long Ketamine lasts. They didn’t, so I went back to my mate lying on the floor. After another minute or so he woke up and asked where he was and what was going on so I tried to explain but by now I was starting trip a bit harder so I think I just said something really useful like “Spirals innit! You’re in a warehouse, a party, just look – it’s wicked innit!”.
Luckily I saw one of my friends from Wales who knew a little bit about K and he just got my spannered mate to stand up and walk out of the warehouse. After a few more minutes he properly came round and said that he had a full-on re-birth experience, took some more drugs and bounced off back into the party with a big fat smile on his face.
That’s when things start to get a bit hazy so let me bullet point some key points from the morning…
1. I remember doing some juggling, but becoming totally distracted by another guy who was doing some amazing juggling (I was also a pretty good juggler and I was well impressed by his mad skills).
2. I remember walking into the main room and feeling something tugging at my trousers – it was a stranger who recognised me from the NYE Party in Uxbridge only a few months earlier. I sat with him for a minute as we exchanged disjointed bullshit about “Spirals in Uxbridge again eh! Two great parties in a row, still fuckin’ avinnit” etc.
3. I remember sitting at the back of the main room quite late in the morning watching the basslines wash over the room and crash up against me as Spiral Tribe Sound System started a live set. At least I think this is what was happening – I remember seeing them set up loads of keyboards and drum machines and asking another mate (the one who gave me the acid, who later went off around Europe with the Spirals and took his brother with him) what they were up to but he was no wiser than me. It all looked very serious though.
freepartypeople says:
Another flyer from my collection. The one below (front and back) is a postcard, rather sturdier than the floppy photocopies I’d picked up for Spiral raves before. That’s because they now had a record deal with Big Life and were due to launch the Sirius 23 EP three days after this party. Apparently the money from the deal was invested wisely (for at least one event it was spent on renting a ‘sacrificial’ soundsystem).
Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
4. I remember sitting at the back of the room watching the party go on, watching the people fall over, feeling the bass and I got to thinking (just like most Spiral Tribers have at some point I’m sure) that there must be more to these events. It could be political, it could be religious. They could be some sort of cult or some sort of terrorists. It was a bit worrying really but I will come back to this a little later (at the first party in Nantyr Picnic Area), but for now I think it is enough to say that I became convinced that there was something significant happening here and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
5. I remember sitting in a car later again in the morning and watching a group of coppers turn up (I decided to sit a bit further down in the car). I saw the gates to the warehouse being closed and I saw a crusty hippy type with more dreds than brain cells left (not meant to be an insult, just an observation) being dragged off by the coppers and I remember feeling so sorry for that poor bloke. He looked like he was having a lovely time until those fucks dragged him off to (no doubt) take a beating and spend his comedown in a cell in police custody.
Eventually the friends who I came with (the K-hole surfer from Dorset) said they were ready to leave and the driver was straight enough to drive. I was not convinced (I certainly wasn’t straight enough!), but he seemed quite determined and so off we went.
This was the first time I realised that my friends from Wales actually already knew some of my friends from Dorset and that they had met up totally independently of me, but totally dependent on Spiral Tribe (the network grows stronger). In fact the links run much deeper, but I won’t get into that here.
Epilogue: Nantyr Picnic area spring ‘93
I have put this party alongside the Spiral parties in Uxbridge because they really blend into each other in my mind.
Nantyr Picnic Area is a beautiful spot where we used to put on parties up in the hills of North Wales and it will always have a special place in my heart because of this party (and lots of others). This was the first party that I went to that had been organised by my friends and I probably knew everybody there. In fact, it was the first party that I took my Mum to, there were lots of the same people who were at the last Spiral party in Uxbridge and although I’m not going to go into all the details of this party here believe me when I say that it was a significant turning point for me.
During the proceedings I had an epiphany moment. While at the last Spiral Party in Uxbridge I was starting to become convinced that there was something more to these parties, at this party I came to the firm conclusion that actually, people just love to meet up with their friends, get fucked and have a dance. People have done it for thousands of years and they will always have a need to do it. It doesn’t need to be a political statement (but it has been), it doesn’t need to be a religious experience (but it has been), it doesn’t even need to be anything else or anything more special than just a party with people getting wasted and dancing with their friends under the stars. What could be more natural than that?
Here is another video, no view of rigs this time but there is a glimpse of the bouncy castle! Thanks Youtube user youmustbemad!
And a fourth and fifth video, this time edited news reports, thank you again Youtuber Tizmip for these!
We stumbled across these great videos. Thanks a million to youtube user tonyeade who filmed (?) and uploaded it Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view. Mark (see comment below) reckons this was Spiral’s rig, but there comments on the youtube page which reckon Spiral’s had been confiscated and this was Bedlam and/or DiY. What do you lot reckon? We’re looking for a list of which other rigs were in attendance. It was in 1992, so no worries if it’s all a bit hazy Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
Amino Clang was there, and here’s his report:
I was staying with my Dad, his partner and her son (who is my age and an old friend of the family too) in Dorset when we heard that there was a festi just down the road in a tiny place called Smeatharpe so, totally unprepared and with no way of getting there, us kids set off to see how far we could get with nothing more than a thumb and a burning need to get there in our inventory.
We managed to get a lift quite easily, but unfortunately the driver wasn’t going far and he dropped us off in the middle of nowhere. Too far down the road to get home, too far away from the party to walk… and then it started to get dark.
Luckily, just as dread was setting in, a VW campervan stopped for us and when we got in the inhabitants said “You look like you’re going where we are going! Do you know where it is?”
We knew that it was at Smeatharpe air strip, but didn’t really know where that was so a phone call from a payphone, a look at the map and couple of wrong turns later we made it onto the site and said our goodbyes to our saviours before bouncing off into the throng.
I love that feeling you get when you finally find the party you have tried so hard to get to. The people looning about, the lights in the sky, maybe a glimpse of some local coppers, but always that unmistakeable boom-boom-boom of a sound system, or even better – that distant fairground sound of people talking mixed with a selection of sound systems churning out allsorts of sounds from all directions. It turns into a cacophony of chaotic noise that I suppose most people would find offensive, but I just love it. Just writing about it now is making me feel all cosy and comfortable, like somebody has draped a warm blanket over my shoulders. Aaaahhhh!
Anyway – I digress…
Back at the party we did a quick tour of the site and soon worked out that there was at least three or four sound systems, some louder than others, but all banging it out to a crowd of happy up-for-it people. There was also a whole lot of UV backdrops, a whole lot of vehicles (both ‘omes and ravemobiles), a bouncy castle, one of those NASA gyroscope things, a TV showing movies, a bar in a double-decker bus, a t-shirt stall and the obligatory selection of dealers shouting “Hash for Cash!”, “Acid, Exctacy!”, “Speed, whiz”, “Mushies, trips!”, etc. (and there really was a bloke shouting “Hash for leather jacket!”).There was even a smallish campervan for sale. I swear you could buy absolutely anything at a free festi in ’92 if you looked hard enough.
Anyway – I digress…
We had been there a while and had not bumped into anybody we knew yet so we bought a “pill” off some girl and split it (the last of our money gone now). I don’t think it worked very well though because my memory of Smeatharpe is pretty vivid. Eventually we plucked up our courage and asked the MC at the biggest rig to get one of our friends to come to the decks so we could meet up with him. Unfortunately the mate in question was a bit worse for wares and thought they wanted him to play a set so he ran away instead!
We continued to wander about looking for somebody we knew – they had to be here somewhere – when suddenly… I noticed a car that I recognised from my hometown in Wales (where I lived with my Mum), and there leaning up against it was one of my friends from up there. I went over to say hello, but he looked a bit wobbly and was trying to lean on the car. It turns out that he had spilled a bottle of poppers on himself and was struggling to stay conscious. Anyway, he started to come round and told me that my oldest friend (it’s a long story, but we met before we were born and have been friends ever since) was in the van he had just fallen out of. This was excellent news of course and the three of us spent the rest of the night bouncing about the party together (there may have been some speed involved at some point?). Here are some of the things I remember:
1. I remember meeting a lovely couple of ravers on the bouncy castle and discussing the pro’s and con’s of going to see The Lawnmower Man in the cinema on acid.
2. I remember doing a bit of juggling with my glow-in-the-dark juggling balls in front of a sound system with a particularly large collection of UV backdrops and a UV light playing more ambient tunes than the other systems.
3. I remember one system was almost all treble while another system was almost all bass.
4. I remember sitting on top of a BIG van/truck type traveller vehicle in the morning watching the ravers in front of the biggest system beneath us. If you squinted your eyes a little bit it looked like the crowd was moving in a steady circle around a point in the middle of the dance floor. This is kind of difficult to explain but it had us all really impressed at the time.
5. I remember seeing some traveller kids ragging about the place on bikes being naughty and taking the piss out of the ravers when the sun came up.
Eventually we found some of our friends from Dorset too and the morning panned out very nicely – chilling out in the sun smoking temple balls with a big bunch of friends at a huge party that showed no signs of slowing down. What more could you ask for?
Time passes and we started to get hungry and tired so we decided that it would be a good idea to say our goodbyes and try to get home. We started the long walk towards the nearest town with our thumb out hoping that somebody would be leaving at the same time. We did get picked up… by a crazed scally driving a stolen car! When he saw the police (who had parked up nearby) he sped up and told us he would let us out as soon as he got away from the police. We smiled politely, thanked him for the lift (and thanked god that we were still alive) and continued to walk through country lanes trying to find a sign of civilisation. God knows how we did it, but we did manage to get home eventually.
So we’re sitting back at home chilling out, smoking more temple balls, resting up and feeding up, watching a bit of telly and getting ready for a good sleep after last night’s adventures, when the parents come in from work (they ran a restaurant) with one of the staff from the restaurant, totally pissed up and raring to go off to “The Rave” to see the sites and embarrass their kids. The guy who worked in the restaurant was sober so we all piled into the car and off we went – once more unto the breach…
By the time we got there is was dark again and there weren’t quite as many people, but the party was still going strong. The parents managed to find themselves some pills and got well and truly! I don’t know if you have ever done a pill (a good ’92 pill) when you are already pissed up, but it knocks you for six, and knock them for six it did.
The resounding memory for me is watching my Dad fall over shouting “Yeah Baby!”, but there are other memories from night two at Smeatharpe Free Festival…
1. I remember that Spiral Tribe had set up a sound system that I had not noticed on the first night and I was having a bit of a dance when this bloke comes over (clearly rushing himself) and started dancing around me saying “Rush, rush, rush, rush…). Well it worked – I really started to come up on the pill we had split (this one worked) and then we spiralled off to investigate the rest of the party again.
2. I remember walking about the site between sound systems and noticing that the music from each system was mixing perfectly with the next. Just as one would fade out, the next would fade in and the tunes were always perfectly beat-matched. Probably my imagination, but pretty cool nonetheless!
3. I remember trying to find our parents’ car and going right up to it and looking in the window and everything, but still not recognising it. We soon realised that we had been looking at the right car when we were ready to go and the driver walked right up to the car we had been looking at and unlocked it!
Time passed, and it all got a bit too much for The Olds so we went home with smiles on our faces and warmth in our hearts.
But the story of Smeatharpe does not finish there either…
TEN YEARS later I was living in Exeter with my girlfriend when I got a phone call from another friend who told me to switch on the local news. There it was again – Smeatharpe Free Festival had returned and it was only down the road again!
We immediately jumped in the car, met up with our friends and headed up to the party (thank fuck for the local press). We had to park a little way from the site because the police (with some help from the local farmer) had blocked every road up to it (not like in the old days!), but we managed to find a way through a hedge, into some fields, dart across the main road past the police and run onto the site with our heads down and our hearts racing.
This blog is all about free parties from 1990 – ’94 so I will just give a brief account of this night:
1. There were more sound systems, but less people at Smeatharpe 2002. This seems to be a bit of a theme for modern Free Festivals – the sound system has become the ultimate party accessory.
2. The musical spectrum was wider at Smeatharpe 2002. There was a house system, a selection of techno systems, a selection of DnB systems, a cocktail bar playing disco and there was even a ska/punk band playing live on a makeshift stage stuck between two pretty big sound systems.
3. Some moron almost ran us over in their white van at Smeatharpe 2002. This same van had been caught on film as they rammed their way through a gate past a local news reporter to get onto the site (clever boys!)
4. The atmosphere was still havin’ it and happy at Smeatharpe 2002, but I gotta say it – they don’t do ‘em like they used to.
5. I was older and wiser at Smeatharpe 2002. We drove there and back in a comfortable car, no need to hitch, no need to search for the site (although there was the obligatory stop to get out of the car and listen out for the bass line echoing across the valley), no parents to look after and we met up with our friends before getting on site.
6. The press were not impressed with Smeatharpe 2002. They reported that the site had been left in appalling condition with loads of burned out cars and rubbish left lying about everywhere, not to mention all the raver poo creating an environmental health hazard. Funnily enough I had taken my girlfriend up to see the site of Smeatharpe Free Festival ’92 only a week or so earlier and the air strip had been used as a stock car racing track for quite some time – it was covered in burned out cars, tyres and oil tins and it was an absolute shite-heap. The worst footage the press could get was of the burned out white van left by those same dickheads who had tried to run us over at the party. The shot panned across the wasteland of the air strip to see other burned out cars, burned out tires and a nice neat pile of bin bags that had been left by the ravers who generally like to leave a site cleaner than they found it.
Also, someone I don’t know, but probably unknowingly danced right next to at a few parties Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view. sent me this report on the 1992 Smeatharpe Free Festival… Thanks mharridge!!
After missing Castlemorton because ‘I didn’t think it would be that big and another would come along and I’d already said I’d work..’I was determined to make it to my first free festival. I’d leaked the secret to a couple of mates from the next town (Leamington) who seemed keen and also would help supply the main ingredient. So, off the 5 of us set sometime Friday evening after making various ‘doctor calls’ around town. We arrived on site at Smeatharpe airfield, Devon, to a police prescence who happily waved us through. Not that I had a sweat on mind with the whole cars stash tucked under the carpet in my footwell of my mate’s Cavalier.
It was dark when we arrived so I don’t remember much other than all night merry making but i do remember watching aeroplanes soaring high above in the clear blue morning sky.
It turns out that one of our friends from Leamington had taken a funny turn and was asking to be taken back home.. After a quick pow-wow we decided it would be ok and we set off on the 2/3 hour drive. After dropping our 3 friends off in Leamington we spent the rest of the day hanging around the pub and telling our mates about where we’d been.
It happened that an older crowd were headed down that evening so being as we knew where the site was we asked if we could tag along. This time I jumped in my mates camper van and again after a variety of pitstops we were off. Again arriving in the pitch black and after getting lost among country lanes we eventually found the site again. A couple of us had scored some acid and I’d bought some more speed. I wasnt an E convert by this time and was sticking to amphetamines and acid. However, how I’d wished I had bought an E as I spent most of the night in a jittery state inside my mates van – though it was fun.
The morning soon came around and drawing back the curtains of the camper van we saw an increasing ring of black uniforms – oh dear Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view. The police cordon got tighter and tighter so we moved the van nearer to the last remaining system playing. This was my first experience of Spiral Tribe. Picture the scene – mid Sunday afternoon in blazing summer sunshine, people dancing on top of vehicles to twisted acid techno, lots of dust around – or maybe thats just me. Not sure I’ll ever be able to forget that.
More on this party from Dougie, who left us this comment on our ‘about’ page:
I remember going to a festi near Honiton on an old air field, I seem to remember Spiral Tribe were there but cannot seem to find anything out about it. Does any body out there know any more about it. It was big and chaotic and i think there was a mini riot when babylon tried to shut it down.
The round house we never had a generator… Had to hotwire, FACT, I was there when it was done… not saying I did It.
Thanks to Snufkin for this comment:
I was at the Roundhouse gig on New Years Eve too. At the time it was derelict and owned by the Metropolitan police. the entrance was blocked with several hundred tonnes of rubble, totally filling the access road. Didn’t stop the Normals drving the rig and genny in on a six six-wheel-drive Militant that used to belong to Moscow State Circus, strainght over the top. Another crazy night. Next night wasn’t so great, after the security had done too much coke and gone to sleep and every mugger in London moved in.
The power was stolen from a light socket owned by British Rail at the back of the building and the system went off at 6:30 in the morning when they turned the lights off. Someone then found an alternative power source.
There are also some lovely pics and a flyer from this party over at:
Again, we heard about it at the time but didn’t attend. Remember hearing rumours about muggers, but also about what an amazing venue it was. Were you there? What was it like? Got any photos or flyers? Also, there seems to have been a Christmas Eve party (also Spiral). Anyone know about this? We’ll create another post for it.
23 January 1993
Spiral Tribe
Disused Depository, Brent Cross, London
Diary entry: Fucking too fucking good the most violent aggressive unmusical music I ever heard, fast noteless, tuneless grinding noise. Gave Mark lift in Tom’s car. Mental building.
Not sure how we got to this party but when we arrived Tom asked me if I could go and pick up Mark from Spiral Tribe, who was still back at their squat on Uxbridge Road. Tom couldn’t because he was too out of it on ketamine already. I’d just taken some drugs, so it became a race against time driving across London before I came up. I picked up Mark, Sebastian and Emily, all clothed in black bomber jackets and combats with shaved heads. I felt a bit old skool Day-Glo in my orange jeans and tie-dye T-shirt.
The music that night was relentless pounding techno. And outside was the best collection of matt black traveller vehicles I’d ever seen.
Many thanks to Simon M for the write up. He promised more of the same. Looking forward to it Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view. His music can be found at https://nultielrecords.blogspot.com/
UPDATE 30/09/09: Thanks to an old friend’s generosity we now have this flyer:
Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
Rumours from a source very close to Spiral Tribe at the time indicated that this never happened due to one of them doing a runner with the money and spending it on crack. So much for the ‘positive energy matrix’! The flyer below is for the free event that happened in its place:
This report was sent to me (together with lots more) by Mark (mharridge) aaaaaaaages ago. Thanks Mark, and sorry it took so long!
UPDATE 14/3/2020: Here are newer uploads of the DK tape, enjoy! Thanks to Jerry for pointing out our broken links Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view. By the way, if anyone sees any other broken links (I’m sure there are heaps!) just leave a comment and we’ll try to replace them with current ones Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
Incidentally, this party belongs to the long list of great parties I never made it to. Some of my friends went and had a whale of a time. Anyway, here’s Mark’s account of the night:
New Years Eve daytime having a smoke at Holmer’s house with Mr Wyer and one other(?) plans were made to head for the party that night Bath way. I called two other mates, Woody and Spence, and the mission was on. So, after waiting for Woodie to finish his washing up shift Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view. at the Jade restaurant we set off just after 11pm in Spencer’s white 405.
Before long we were hammering down the m5 and come 12pm the obligatory champagne made its appearance. After a quick refuel, we set off again reaching the party around 2am(?). Anyone who was out that night will remember it was absolutely freezing! The party though was in full swing and I remember being impressed by the t-shirted and sweaty bodies inside the marquee compared to the freezing people outside.
We soon realised that there werent any E’s on site – or so we were told and decided to plump for some hash and acid instead. This we did, scoring off a nice little ice cream van parked nearby. The night passed in acid, champagne and slate confusion and the rising sun showed the whole area to be wreathed in fog which was confusing many people by the looks of it. We made the brave decision to go and try and dance so after Spencer’s neatky executed 3 point turn and a close encounter with a large hairy pig we were inside the tent. All I remember is dancing with a insane grin on what appeared to be a 45 degree slope. Anyway, a good time was had by all Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
For the first time the major festivals appeared not so much as hippy events but akin to the great orbital raves of 1988. Here, indeed, was the true spiritual heir to the Summer of Love. The commercial rave scene could no longer genuinely claim to represent love, unity or spiritual celebration. Chipping Sodbury, the eventual site of the Avon Free Festival of 1991, featured various house systems and was really the first free festival so explicit in it’s reveration of dance music. The antagonisms many travellers felt towards these foreign new sounds, also began to become apparent. Fair point, if you have to live on a site with a baby, five days of hugely amplified house is probably not ideal. However, it is undeniable that the influx of this culture breathed new life into an atrophying festival scene. The Avon Free in 1987, for example, had been without joy, a paean to negativity.
In May 1991 at a small “free festival” near Chipping Sodbury in Avon, a major police operation was mounted and road blocks were set up. The police were attempting to search most of those attending for controlled drugs. This “blanket” activity was held by our counsel to be illegal, since the police must act on individual grounds to suspect any particular individual. The law says that they must not make judgements on colour, style, appearance etc.
This was, however, exactly what was occurring and I was asked by lawyers to go and photograph the circumstances for later use (slides 134 – 142). I have engaged in this activity many times and know police frequently object or are obstructive.
This occasion was no different and while photographing, was threatened with arrest. It was never clear exactly why, but it would have achieved getting me out of the way. I was also subjected to a search myself.
The story is described in a statement that I made to record an official complaint against the police.
Image may be NSFW.
