Save this last dance for Kabal

For anyone who has vaguely followed our vibes on here you'll have seen plenty of mentions to Sheffield club night Kabal. 

We've followed this shadowy nocturnal venture and the exploits of resident DJs Pipes, Winston and Toddla for years so it was with a slight tear in the eye that we journeyed up for the final, 50th hurrah earlier in March. 

Kabal had given us some of the best, funniest and fiercest evenings. The first time we checked a DJ set from Toddla was at the Ebeneezer Chapel up in Walkley, a building of student flats but, cos it used to be a church, had an altar where the decks lay. He played Syclops' Mom, the video broke and we freaked... 

We've been to boxing rings in Sheffield's city centre, former morgues and railway arches all in the pursuit of the bleep and the bass offered by the night, always starting late and going on even later. We rang in a Kabal new year at said arch, but had to leave shortly before two having imbibed all the merch. Instead we opted to spend the rest of the evening sitting on a mate's radiator jibbering total baloney until the sun came up listening to Katy B's On a Mission on repeat. 

Even with the 49th event, we had a total blast. At the Night Kitchen, a sprawling labyrinth studio set up, we spent the day in the Peak District foraging for magic mushrooms before heading to the evening for midnight. We were staying at an Air BnB with strict instructions from our curator, Nathan, to be out by midday. We obviously ended up dancing until beyond the finish, staying up until 8 with only a few snatched hours of kip before Nath arrived to turf us out on his hoverboard. Turns out he'd been at the rave too the rotter. We spent the rest of the afternoon collapsing over a fry up in Bungalows and Bears before crawling back to London as pathetic little shells. 

If there's one thing I won't thank the night for, it's been the character-building journeys back to London. One mega bus trip was so paranoia fuelled, thanks in part to a lady sitting next to us, noisily eating crisps, that I had to depart at Golders Green and spend the next two hours walking back to Hackney. Got in to bed at midnight sharp just in time to grab six sweaty hours of sleep before going into work the next day and crying on the toilet. That is the vibe. 

The final night was a classic in terms of us turning up wrecked and spending the preceding hours until dawn getting even more wrecked. My memories are slim (That meal at the top is the one memory I got on my phone) and I probably shouldn't have had the six pints, the biftas and the rest before going. At the same time, memories of all the nights are slight and that's the way I like it. 

Sheffield will be worse off without Kabal but it's always top form for promoters to kill something when it's still at its height. Not outstaying your welcome and leaving dancers wanting more is a dignified way of bowing out. So props to main organiser Raif and co. It's been emotional. 

Stay close... 

72 hours in South Yorks

Returning to South Yorks is always jokes but our recent jaunt up the backbone of the country to Sheffield was a total stonker. Our journey was made to take part in the 49th and penultimate ever night of Kabal but while the night itself was total class, the rest of our frolics were equally as vibes-filled. 

We landed on the Friday lunchtime after a very beige, scran-filled train ride. We mooched around the city centre before meeting our Air BnB host, the laconic and possibly stoned Nathan. He was a very unenthusiastic individual who turned up on Sunday morning to kick us out on a hoverboard. None of us had had much sleep so we took it in turns to try and mount/fall off his board while baiting him for not raving as hard as we had at Kabal the previous night (we found him lurking in the shadows of the club). 

Our first evening in South Yorks involved drinking pints at normal prices (fuck you London) and eating some poncy sushi before heading home for a bluetooth speaker boogie in the kitchen. 

Saturday was more jokes, consisting of a trip to the countryside to search for magic mushrooms. Turns out the hills above Sheffield are stuffed with millions of different strains of the wee blighters but only a handful have the hallucinogenic properties we were after. As a result, our afternoon was spent staring at the ground looking for the type of 'fun guys' which possess a 'nipple'and 'bruise blue'. After finding about 12 we retired to a local boozer where a medieval re-enactment event was taking place. Serious. Weird vibes a plenty. 

Kabal itself was a winner - the Night Kitchen is a sprawling network of studios and rooms with vibes going on across every area. Downstairs was amazing, featuring throbbing electronics from the likes of Dino Thompson and Scott Monkz while up stairs was full of aural darkness, bass and jungle. Serocee brought the dancehall noise before Toddla delivered a load of hype among the jingles. It was Pipes and Winston Hazel who saw us through to the close with maximum beggaring on our part. We went home for a few more morning cans, then hit the hay briefly before getting up and spitting ourselves out into the nearest boozer. Here were the scenes of some great unraveling until it was home time. Well done Sheffield - that was a winner...   

Woody's classic

The king of gelato house

Yummo

Foraging

The hills, the hills, the hills... 

Fields and that

Ken Kesey has found one! 

The best thing to ever happen ever in the history of the world ever

Chaos crew in full effect

Tramlines ... we are leaving ... Marines!

For one weekend in the midst of summer 2012 it felt like Sheffield was the centre of the good shit. Things have changed. I ain't been a resident of the city for nigh on three years but remember the regular weekend feeling of frustration at not being able to catch a hype musical buzz in a reliable location. This wasn't the total downer it may initially seem - the lack of owt up our collective street meant that when the hype did land, it was all the better and more special for it. We had some big, big evenings. But sometimes had to seek high and low for the nights that whet our collective whistle. Then, when the trickle dried up, we set up our own. 

Many would argue that this is part of the beauty of South Yorks. If you can't find what you're looking for, then get off your arse and do it yourself. But, for the weekend of the Sheffield's Tramlines festival, it felt, for perhaps the first time and in the best possible way, that there was too much to do. 

Tramlines has been bubbling along since 2009 and this was the first year I'd attended since it was in short trousers - without sounding like too much of a wistful cheese monger, you could taste in the air how much the thing has grown. The whole place was buzzing to fuck with music seemingly bubbling away behind every door. Which makes for a pretty heady vibe ... After the inevitable five hour coach journey up from London (yawnnnnn), our Friday began with a trip to the Harley to check new hype merchants, AlunaGeorge do their electronic r'n'b business to a suitably frothy and sweaty crowd. Then the Box Jams DJs stepped up to deliver a hefty dose of classic electro, house and techno to the slightly confused looking trendies on the dancefloor. 

'Seek and ye shall find' goes the maxim of Sheffield's nomadic club night, Kabal. Its Friday night fixture on the opening night of Tramlines was no exception, with the evening's only pre-match publicity being through its usual word-of-mouth and email whispers. The bash was fairly mind bending - you had to walk through a boxing gym to reach the dancefloor while the music was a jump up mash of garage, jungle and dancehall blasted out at a testicle wobbling volume. We drank and danced until dawn, then opted for another beer and an hour mooch home rather than a cab. Wise moves from old heads... 

Kabal

Saturday started off in a dishevelled fashion at midday - we coated over the cracks with a greasy fry up before heading down to Endcliffe park for a child-friendly afternoon of folk music and real ale, all served up in the sunshine. It sounds delightful and in many ways it was, except for the bamboozling strength of the beers. By the time James Yorkston had shot his musical load, albeit in the most acoustic way possible, it was veering on time for a sit down and a glass of water. However, being hardy, daft and adventurous types, we jettisoned the sensible option in favour of continuing boozing at the massive Signals party at Yellow Arch. We queued for an hour to get in, I bullied some 20 year-olds into giving up their stash, then my memories disperse - the one thing that does stand out is German techno teenager Objekt smashing the place right up...

Sunday was predictably even harder than the previous day - not even combining sausage and salmon in one fried mouthful could dilute the ever increasing rough edge. We had an hour down at the amazing South Yorks event to witness the premiere of Kid Acne's Zebra Face before boarding the bus for the return leg back down to London. Props to everyone who put us up and propped us up. Sheffield - you were amazing... Roll on next year...

Yes mate - you love the sonic science

Box Jams

South Yorks

Lads in da rave

Keeping it rude Sheffield style...

February 19th sees the next Rude Movements party going on in Sheffield. If we're gonna reach, it's gonna mean a National Express bus there and back but the party looks fresh enough to make it worth the trip. I can already taste the aura of the man squeezed in the seat next to me. Bring it on. I'll be that man on the return journey to London. Hungover and hanging big styles. Drink it.

Ahem. Zed Bias and Toddla T are among the men doing their bit in the front room. Their collaboration, Koolade, which you can hear at the start of this Zed Bias podcast, is a right twitcher. In the back room it's Luke Unabomber and Winston Hazel. Their business reminded us of this youtube footage of legendary Sheffield night Jive Turkey which emerged some time last year. As per Winston is on it in this and the enthusiasm is large. Makes you want to get off your arse and dance to house music like a twat. Fresh flavours.



While we're in Sheff that weekend, my man, the Captain, will hopefully be interviewing the photographer Shawn Bloodworth. He's known as the dude who has documented much of the key figures in London's ever burgeoning dubstep and grime scene and does a great job of making the gaunt look even gaunter. If you head over to his website (which is here) you can watch a short film he made documenting what was going on in Sheffield's night life during 2010. Both bits of footage have been kicking about for a while but that weekend has a nice bit of symmetry agwaning - Old and new meet each other somewhere in South Yorks. Check the trailer for the Bloodworth film below...

Minds Locked Together (Trailer) from BRAINFEEDER on Vimeo.

New Year wheezey soaking you to the molecule

Christmas and NYE go together like a hand up a fist. If your flex is appropriately prepped, then once you've stuffed yourself stupid over the festive period, you can dance yourself thin less than five days later. We journeyed to Sheffield to do exactly that in an arch deep in the guts of the city. Kabal was the flex featuring Pipes, FMG and Chris Welch who kept the arch reverbertaing until well into the next morning. Predictably we spunked our fun load a little too early in the club but made up for it by attempting to drown ourselves in liquor back at the (borrowed) ranch. Props to the Kabal committee. As expected, it was big, bad and heavy. And ring a ding ding to the Off Me Nut Crew, who were also repping. Hard. Sheffield past meets Sheffield future somewhere near Niche. Hello 2011. Let's be having you...



Fetching the late night mince



#justsayin'



Ready



Chimney bizness



In the heart of the Kabal



A blurry FMG



Fucking squire



Double chin flex



Oooof



Pipes. On it.



Early doors



Bass



Pipes and the FMG getting a lather on...



Supplies



Map

Kabal on a mixtape flex

Many of the best nights out in Sheffield take place down the cracks of the city. So if you want to reach the heart of its electronic pulse, then you'll have to get on your hands and knees and stick your ears to the ground.

Kabal has been one of the longest serving, yet resolutely underground evenings the city has served up over the past ten years. With residents such as wafroed new boy Toddla T and Steel City rave veterans Pipes and the FMG, the evening has managed to consistently serve up a fresh sounding dose of music both old and new. And, by hosting events in a variety of backrooms, basements, warehouses, and even converted churches, the uniqueness of the location has always helped each Kabal add up to something much more than just another club night.

This 'clandestine night for party freaks' has a series of parties coming up as the end of the year hoves into view culminating in a massive do on new year at a secret location in Sheffield. To celebrate, they've posted these two mixes on their soundcloud.

You can stream them below - both are big but in different ways...

Kabal Mix NYE 2008 by Kabal Where?House Party

Solid Chunks of Chocolate City - Sheffield 2006 by Kabal Where?House Party

Just like starting over...

Yowzer - The new decade has landed and we saw it in in fine style on a Sheffield tip. A lovely drive up to the Steel City interspersed with a Burger King was rewarded with a domestic hoe down. It was fine and featured a tombola, finger food, kids, wrestling, dancing and even the fear of facing an old foe.

Despite the house-based vibes going down, we still found time to pop down the road to the Earl to visit Kabal and give the old men djing a verbal dressing down. Safe as fook pensioners. The day after was as standard as you like. Eating dry food with one brain's hanging out of one's ears is a classic New Year's day look. Welcome to the new decade. Some things will never change.



Wrestling vibes



House, house and more fucking house



Tired flex




Stafford is full of them



Fresh from the hostess trolley



Mum's poison - It's a 47 per cent proof ting...



The December binge begins to bite...

Laying down vibes at the bus stop

My sister loves my parents more than I do...