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Photos: Dom Henry
Words: Sam Care
You might not have noticed this year but we are now well into the summer season. You know, the summer, remember that? It's that time of year when we all lounge about in the park on our days off, bask in the sun, bugger about with those crappy disposable bbqs and get gently sozzled. No? Oh that's right you probably don't remember it because the weather is downright mediocre at the moment. No games of pissed up football in the park for me, it's far too cold and miserable.
However, another Nottingham summer characteristic that is here this year is the lack of students and if you're a regular Evening Post reader you might be fooled into thinking that that can only be a bloody good thing. After all it's those damn lazy lay-abouts that keep everyone awake all night "partying" until 4am on a Monday (is it not?). But there are some people in the city that don't look forward to the student exodus. Among those are some talented local promoters, who without the students coming through their doors, find it increasingly difficult economically to run top quality club nights that offer a little something different to the binge-drinking, sick on your best mate, wasn't that funny?, are you looking at me?, pop 'n' cheese shite, that has saturated the city and is giving our beloved Notts a bad name in the national press. Whatever your views on students that fact has to be accepted.
One place that's doing alright but not great this summer, in terms of heads through the door, is the newly opened Stealth. Single handedly disputing our preconceptions of the colour grey as dull; the double floored club is doing damn well considering it is silly season at the moment. Sure there have been some decidedly quiet, "top floor closed" affairs this summer but there have also been some right stonkas, of which Saturday just gone, ranks up near the top.
The guys and dolls that run Stealth invited the effortlessly cool Ivan Smagghe back after he played a set a couple of months ago that had the 'ole town a gabbing. He didn't disappoint - oh no. His electrominimal deepbleep squidgy house, that makes you go oooomffff when it drops, reigned supreme. It was, he was, lush. Those that stood in front of the impossibly loud speaker stacks were lost for words and could only grin at each other. The whole shebang was half Parisian sexhouse and half Nottingham grime.
When Smagghe ended at about one, so that he could head south to play another gig, Damien Lazarus stepped up to a bizarre temporary cacophony of elephant noises before launching into more of the same throb house. He kept it sweet and akin to his Stealth mix CD "Crosstownrebels" that's doing the rounds at the moment (grab one as soon as you see it). Deep into the night while the crowd were at their most raucous Lazarus just couldn't resist dropping what' s fast becoming the Stealth anthem - "Rocker" by Alter Ego and provided those who had lost it a little bit with their strongest memory. You know. It 's the one everyone left singing, "wooo oooo eeeeee aaaaaah, wooo oooo aaaaaah." Hahaha. You'll know it when you hear it.
www.stealthattack.co.uk
www.dlounge.co.uk
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