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Hello... anybody out there?
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Unless everyone is off having a brilliant time somewhere new that I don’t know about, the clubbing calendar has not yet started. My poor little motor going the journey (RIP Mr.Renault, the last hot-hatch in Fenham) left me stranded in Smogland and NOT on the dance floor at World HQ for ‘Tricky Disco’s’ last outing there on 6/2. Boo! A brief swan down to the ‘Tall Trees’ for Promise vs.
Good Greef on 15/2 was hampered by the fact I hadn’t packed my trance trousers, so spent most of the night deriding the genre in the funky house room and laughing at the glow-sticks massive. Big up yerself bwoys, I know where I’d like to insert it. Ahem.
However, seeing as February was official smug-couple month, I did take a night off the rave monkey business to enjoy a little fine food with a handsome chap in the home of much religious iconery kitsch of ‘Diablo’s’, which is obviously going to piss the boyf off no end if he finds out ;).
(Note to all – this is the only time I will associate myself as being near anywhere that has anything to do with icons, spelt with a krazy ‘K’ or not.). Review to follow, in my best Edwina Eats manner, as lifted from the pages of a popular regional Sunday newspaper, with just enough deviation to throw the lawyers off the scent! The rave monkey budget doesn’t extend to litigation. |
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Cameras ready, prepare to mash..
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As if Godskitchen on the 8/3 wasn’t enough for our seretonin depleted heeds, some crazy fool has decided to put on an event the following day (i.e. 9/3) at Envy (that’s ex-Diva next to you-know-where as opposed to the clothing emporium).
Aptly titled confusion, headlining will be DJ Elite of ‘Cameras ready…’ tuneage fame, as well as GRH (answers on a postcard for that abbreviation please), DMD, (know that one, its fine), Phil York (Nuklear Puppy), Mark Maitland of ‘Fractured’ fame and Iain Shepard. Conveniently starting at 12 noon, giving you 6 hours post-GK to sort your head out, it goes on till 7pm, just in time for our good friends ‘Sunday Trading’ @ the Egypt Cottage to pick up the inevitable casualties. Remember, sleeping can always be done under the desk on Monday. |
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Venturing forth this month…
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Once again Leeds, the self-styled London of the North, calls commuting clubbers this month, as one of clublands best kept secrets bite the bullet and put on a night AND tell you where the venue is.
If this you thought this sort of carry on died out with illegal warehouse parties and mobiles phones like house bricks then you obviously haven’t been treated to the wonder that is ‘Parlez Vous’.
Held in a secret location somewhere in the Western hemisphere, ‘Parlez Vous’ have been putting on top hard dance & house nights on the QT for a few years now, with the refreshing combination of real clubbers only crowd, bring yer own bevvy and cups of tea on sale.
This winning formula has now been transferred to the third Friday of every month @ the Warehouse, Somers Street, Leeds, with it all kicking off on 21/3.
The main room antics will be led by Karim, Tara Reynolds, GRH (him again), Guffy and some of the ‘Parlez..’ boys. ‘Homework’ will be taking charge upstairs for some funky antics with TinTin, Dan Tait and Lucy Locket of other top Leeds night ‘Speed Queen’ fame. Things are still going ahead as usual at ‘Parlez Vous’ home venue, hopefully this latest venture will extend the good times of the club without compromising the underground vibe, so me and the new motor will have a zoom down to check.
Any excuse for a ponce round ‘Harvey Nicks’ on a comedown.
Check out www.parlez-vous.co.uk for more info. |
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And finally, it’s not clubbing, but we like it…
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 As aforementioned, a spot of wining and dining was called for on Valentines Day, a prospect that usually fills me with dread, as the social pressures of being a couple out together can not normally be solved in the restaurant environment by pharmaceutical means or dancing like a loon.
However, the gothic/kitsch surroundings of ‘Diablo’s’ on Pudding Chare contained equal levels of cosy low-lighting and flashing articles to remind me of my natural home of clubland, and all was well.
The menu is based around Greek and Spanish tapas, (tapas… Ibiza… sob) and the idea is that you order a variety of dishes, none of which were on the wrong side of £6 and share them, possibly in a coy ‘Lady and the Tramp’ manner.
‘He Who Must be Fed’ and me were in ‘fine fettle’ as we scanned the menu and ‘plumped’ for a fine selection of dishes, all of which really did ‘hit the spot’. The grilled sardines did look at me in an accusatory manner, however this didn’t stop me from ‘tucking into’ the biggest pile of ice-cream in the world, before ‘declaring ourselves full’ and staggering out to the ‘Eatsmobile’ i.e. the number 12 bus, due to Mr.Renault’s unfortunate passing.
Methinks your restaurant reviewer's crown is safe, Eddie; all the same, a top non-club based night out which brought back happy memories of last summer and the White Isle. On that note, I’m off to Thomas Cook with my backhander from Diablos to slap down a deposit for the closing parties week, till next time club chums.
• EDITOR’S NOTE: If anyone would like to bribe Jane with free food in return for a good review, contact Newcastle Stuff |
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