fabric goes the distance once again

Returning for another bout of well-past-bedtime fun, fabric’s “On & On” parties really are a favourite of mine. Boasting big names, long sets, and something a little bit out of the ordinary, fabric really ensures that these events feel a bit special. People come and go all night long, and just as the creeping call of bed is starting to rear its ugly head there’s always another influx of fresh-faced arrivals sure to brush away the cobwebs and keep you dancing for “just one more hour”.
 
Fully aware of my determination to be there until at least 2PM Sunday, I decide to take the tactical route and arrive at the club a little later than I usually would. Heading straight for room 2, Slam's driving techno is pounding out surprisingly hard considering that there are still 12 hours of partying left. It certainly seems that fabric are sticking to their guns and maintaining a harder sounding palette for Room 2 of late, and it's definitely something that I applaud - the sound isn't to my personal taste, but keeping this diversity and a distinct sense of character is an important part of the club's identity, and the vibe is certainly going down well with the crowds judging by the large numbers crammed onto the dancefloor. The builds are long and the drops are hard, but there's enough subtlety here to keep people interested and anticipating the arrival of the next thunderous wave of percussion. Meanwhile, in Room 1 Dinky begins to lay the foundations for the long-haul ahead. Restrained and considered, Dinky's set is programmed as much for the head as it is for the feet, drawing in equal measures on recent “Room 1 favourites” (yes – I claim that there is such a thing!) and deeper cuts. The crowd is receptive, if a little subdued, but all the right signs are there for people getting themselves ready for the journey in store.
 
Up next are The Modern Deep Left Quartet – a moniker for Matthew Jonson and Co’s Cobblestone Jazz outfit. Chunky, synthy house and techno are the order of the day here, and the impressive music is made all the more exciting by the fact that everything is being created live - flawlessly - right before everyone’s eyes. The quartet fill the large Room 1 stage, darting around a huge central mass of mixers and machines, and keeping everything as tight as it is groovy. A really excellent set, and a clear indication of the quality that was still to come. Darting back to Room 2, Terry Francis is certainly keeping things in an intense gear. More stripped back than Slam (but every bit as relentless) the resident demonstrates that the fabric regulars can hold it just as well as their guests – as, indeed, he does every Saturday. The diversity of sounds that Terry covers from week to week places him as an excellent resident in my books. He really is an expert at adapting and changing his style to the needs of the particular night, and keeping the subs kicking in room 2 is definitely the right decision as the sun starts to creep over the streets above.?Speaking of residents, Mr Craig Richards has Room 1 whipped up into a frenzy by the time I return. Playful, percussive, warm techno is the flavour here, and Richards perfectly treads the path of being fun without ever being throwaway – which, I must confess, is a balance that I’m starting to find fewer and fewer DJs successfully striking at the moment. Thoughtful in all the right places, while consistently rousing cheers and screams, Richards knows Room 1 like it's his own living room, and tonight feels like one of those really special occasions where he's invited each and every one of us round so that he can play us some of his favourites. A stellar - and truly personal - experience.
 
It’s been said so many times before, but Richards really is the perfect warm-up act for any serious headline DJ. And warm us up he does: the crowd is almost at boiling point by the time that Ricardo Villalobos arrives (an hour later than billed). Surely the night has reached its peak by now? After all, Richards' set was greeted by a packed Room 1, and if anything the numbers seem to be waning slightly. It's already well past breakfast time - will Ricardo be able to keep people here for another six or more hours?
 
If you've seen him before, you'll know, of course, that I'm pulling your leg. When he's playing at the bottom of that flight of stairs on Charterhouse Street, London listens. Space is normally at an intense premium when he's in town, so the fact that there's maybe a few less bodies than usual (certainly than at the far over-crowded night in May) is an absolute blessing. What follows is a 6 hour set that almost has me lost for words. Comprised partly of a solo effort, and partly of a back-to-back with Craig Richards for the final stretch, Ricardo somehow manages to prove that even in the middle of a credit crunch, when it’s raining outside and your dance-induced wounds mean that you can’t really bend your knees any more, sometimes things can be just perfect. When the best people and the best music are in the best place at the best time of day, this is what can happen.
 
An hour or so in, and there's a rather unusual glow over Room 1. Blinking in the sudden brightness, people begin to look around them to see what's going on. It's not an elaborate new lighting machine, it's not an overly-enthusiastic strobe - it's sunlight. Up above the stage, two large vents have slid open and the sunlight from outside is pouring into Room 1. It's an unusual feeling - where in Panoramabar the natural light is embraced as a feature of the room, with a theatrical build-up and a sudden drenching in sunlight, here the light seems to have crept up unnoticed. Either way, the feeling of "something a bit special happening" is embraced by the crowd, and perfectly fits the mood that Ricardo has set. Within an hour, however, the vents have been pushed shut by fabric staff, and the whole experience becomes something of a mystery. The rumour mill is in full force, of course - was it intentional? Will it be a regular feature of Sunday mornings now? Was it a special feature saved for the On & On parties that we won't see again until the next installment?  Or - perhaps the least romantic - was there some truth in the whispering of a faulty fire alarm sensor opening up a ventilation system? fabric don't seem to be giving the game away on this one, which leads me to believe that the truth lies in the latter explanation. If this is the case, a truly bizarre set of circumstances have tonight come together for the "where you there?" moment of 2010.
 
Often when people declare that they have an “eclectic” taste, I find that even a little probing reveals how they don’t especially like any specific type of music – they sort of feel a lukewarm affection for everything, but nothing really rouses them. But tonight, it is with precisely such eclecticism that Ricardo proves – yet again – that even after all these years at the top, no-one else really comes close. Darting between decades-old classics and cuts so fresh that they’re still warm from the mastering studio, Ricardo steers clear of anything which could ever have been “flavour of the month”. His set isn’t house, it isn’t techno, it isn’t disco, it isn’t minimal, it isn’t dub. His set is simply his selection of the very best electronic music from his (mainly vinyl) box, and he plays it all using two decks and a mixer. Isn’t this precisely what the DJ was invented to do, after all?
 
As the drums soften and Ricardo steers us towards our final destination of stripped-back disco and jazz, I make the fatal mistake of trying to stretch out my legs, and finally succumb to the fact that I can't really walk any more. It's with a heavy heart (and heavy legs) that I ascend the staircase back to reality. Outside, the man wandering around in his pyjamas (he says he's lost his cloakroom ticket as though this somehow explains the situation) is the only hint to the rest of the mankind about what went on just a few metres below their streets today.