The independent website the Quietus is wonderfully persistent in covering unique, diverse and marginalised music. But as it struggles to compete with the Internet giants and mainstream publications, it is often on the brink of going under. Quite metaphorically, the website chose to celebrate its 10th anniversary at Corsica Studios - an essential gear of London’s underground nightlife, which is at risk of being pushed out of its home in Elephant & Castle, because of the area’s commercial redevelopment. But last Friday we were celebrating, and at 11.30pm the party was already in full swing. Not wasting time to warm up, the crowd was firing crazy moves to unhinged techno, rock and even Alpine yodelling mixed by DJ Bus Replacement Service, who opened the main room in her signature Kim Jong-un costume.
The line-up for the occasion reflected the bizarre and humorous music taste of the feted publication, and boasted some of the most exciting current artists. Booking multiple headliners is risky: an abundance of big names can make the audience feel anxious about missing out on some of the greats. But the night was flowing effortlessly and I found myself being exactly where I want to be and listening to exactly what I want to listen to at any given time. Following short and punchy live set by British Murder Boys, who were joined on stage by performance artists Nora Virus and Elliott Barnicle, we saw industrial techno legend Perc. As the club got packed during his set, Sophie Coletta in the second room was providing a much needed space to breath, without losing the boldness of harsher techno played in the main space.
Shortly before his set, the co-founder of the Quietus, Luke Turner, was found grooving behind the decks next to Coletta with an open smile. He was pouring alcohol in the glass of a thirsty front row dancer and seemed happy to watch the guests enjoy themselves. Known and loved for its intimate feel, Corsica is also notorious for getting packed to an intolerable limit and the Quietus team deserves a praise for not letting the venue overcrowd. The atmosphere was dear and quoting one of the commentators on Resident Advisor, it was one of the most “non-dickhead crowds I’ve experienced in London”. Half an hour after scheduled closing time, KAOS’s Choronzon was still teasing our tired bodies right up until the lights illuminated our smiley faces.