By: Kai Teo
Klubb Revolt – Klaffbron, 13 May ‘16
Klubb Revolt is the new, rebellious, genderless freak in the hazy scene of Malmö’s well-established underground party scene. It’s the cool kid in school with green hair and a shitty nipple piercing you wished you had the guts to be.
When a kid like that arrives at the school canteen, eating cigarettes and smoking rose petals, you’d get a variety of responses. The impressionable wannabes watch and gawk, as they quickly discuss your music tastes and start planning how to bump into you at the next gig you’d so coolly show up at.
The cheerleaders and rugby players shrug you off in front of all their well-dressed car driving friends, but deep down inside, they wished they knew your secret to ultimate coolness.
And then you get the “used to be” cool kids. You know, they were once like you, when wearing black was still the “in” thing. They stare at your multicoloured robes as you drift past them weightlessly, and watch helplessly at you smiling at their pathetic attempts to cling on to their last reigns of faded glory. They wish they were still relevant, so they turn that raging plea for attention into a raging fit against you.
Klubb Revolt is staging a rebellion on the rebels. It ushers in peace, love, unity, and respect – without the macho muscles and unsolicited sexual advances on the dance floor. It paves the way to a bright, vibrant underground culture that is not afraid of the morning sunshine. It sets the new standard for a rising norm of ravers who really just want to have a good time without groping someone or someone groping them.
And they have a loud statement to make: with ticket prices.
Men pay 100 krs (10 EUR) for entry, while women and all other genders pay 86 krs (8.60 EUR), 14% less. This little symbolic act points out the glaring injustice of the workplace, where females are paid, on the average, 14% less than males for the same job. That’s mighty fucked up, and Klubb Revolt makes sure that our ravers are reminded of this flaw in our system. Technicalities aside, “Erm… I’m born male, but I identify my gender as ‘goat’, how much do I pay?” I mean, fucktard, it’s just a beautiful statement they’re making, paying less or more really doesn’t matter that much to you, does it? Since you’re gonna blow 200 krs on ketamine anyway.
This evening started out with a small crowd. Klara & Nora began by injecting the darkness with a strong dose of sweet, undiluted techno. For a debut, they were fucking flawless. Their uplifting notes to equality utopia were underlined by relentless, droning bass that took our minds prisoners. Their flow was impeccable, and as the neon strobes flashed in our faces, we saw sheer ecstasy and immense pleasure.
Sheer ecstasy, yes. We witnessed eternally clenched jaws, drenching sweat, and unadulterated animalistic dance moves put on display. There was no shame, no fear, only madness. There was this one dude who never stopped jumping, as if he was trying to leap across the boundaries of space and time. And this other guy who had his jaws going so hard you couldn’t see the rest of his face. It was a slightly disturbing, but enchanting sight.
Maria Faleborn took over the decks and immediately destroyed our faces with hard-hitting beats and deep, dirty lines. At this point, our consciousness had already been surrendered to the whims of the DJ. My vision was melting every colour into a rainbow soup, ready to be consumed by my sense of hearing after heating it in the microwave for 48 seconds (sorry, I don’t even know what that means). Everything was flowing, and I couldn’t feel my face, I could only sense the bass.
That was the moment when Danish techno goddess Anastasia Kristensen took control of our trips. It’s game over, motherfuckers, Kali is in town, ready to kill your inner devils and tiny egos. She was divine. Grimy, smoky sledgehammers hit our existence, while she watched carefully at our responses and delivered what she knew would bring us to our knees in earnest worship.
And then she grinned. That knowing grin you give to someone while you say, “Yea, you’re loving what I’m giving you eh?” Then she continued to splash an unbearable intensity all over our souls, crippling us with her might, and watching us die in pleasure.
As I headed out to catch a glimpse of the morning sun, the news reached our ears.
One of the organisers witnessed a “drive-by kicking”. So yea, some dudes arrived in a car, came out really quickly, kicked a window in, and drove off.
It felt too planned to be a random act of vandalism. They weren’t just a bunch of drunk fucks walking past, they were little scheming bastards trying to sabotage Klubb Revolt’s chances of holding their next parties in a decent venue.
It was an attack. Even though no pangender persons were harmed in the process, it felt like the green-haired rebel of love wasn’t welcomed in the dirty underground run by unscrupulous businessmen with no passion for the rainbow cause.
Move over big boys. This new freak has no fear.
Klubb Revolt has a strong philosophy, a kind soul, and a loving vibe. And this, is what ravers rave about, dancers dance for, and the world craves for. Welcome to the new underground – where we dance uninhibited and unafraid of judgment, where we can be free from weird fucks trying their even weirder pickup tactics, where we truly belong.
Welcome to Klubb Revolt, it’s time for a rainbow riot.
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