Judge Jules gives us a blast from Dublin’s clubbing past.
It features interveiws with club owners and resident DJ`s Orbit and Jay Pidgeon. I was only ever in the place once, and at that stage it looked like it was dying on its arse. I was always struck by the sight of an extremely camp candy raver, in full day-glo costume and UV light fire poi giving it socks with painted finger nails amongst a crowd of tops off lads with tracksuit pants giving it socks. That sort of diversity seems to be missing in most club nights now. Seemingly it closed down as a result of conservation work being needed back in 2002.
The steeple of St George’s, which is nearly as high as Liberty Hall, is the only church spire that can be seen from O’Connell Bridge. It is also the first landmark that greets visitors on their way in to the city centre from Dublin Airport. The former church, which was opened in 1814 and deconsecrated more than a decade ago, is acknowledged as the masterpiece of Francis Johnston, architect of the GPO in O’Connell Street and the Chapel Royal in Dublin Castle.
There’s also some loved up recollections on anyyokes.com (yes, what a brilliant name for a site!)
The majority of the clientele would be described by their friends as rough, aggressive, cheeky little bolloxes who would rob you without a moment’s hesitation and would do so with a smile on their face. I’d just call them knackers. But certainly not to their faces.
With that moshpit of characters inside, plus a fair smattering of southside heads who were into techno and getting madoutofit, trouble would surely brew. But nothing could be further from the truth. I never so much as saw a fight inside, except when it was me on the receiving end of a few digs from the bouncers after being caught selling yokes. I’m led to believe they were so pissed off because I was taking away their business.
There’s a host of similar chatter over at the Bodytonic boards.
One thing i do remember about a night back then is deciding to try out the Kitchen club. Maybe it was a re-union or something i dunno, I do know one of the lads who worked in purple moon records was djing there that night. Anyway, i remember being literally laughed at in the que by all these fuckin tits, wispering ‘they’ll never get in’. There was a few of us alright,and i suppose we didnt look like the regular kitchen clubber, but it really made me feel so small standing in that que that night. And sure enough when i got to the top i was told, no. I was old enough,and i had ID, but it wasnt to be. So i strolled up to the temple and sure enough, i was warmly welcomed.
One thing that’ll strike you about the Judge Jules video, is the sheer scale of the venue. Hard to even imagine anything of its ilk existing in Dublin.