Berlin. A city of culture and history that holds a well-kept secret, that only the lucky get to discover. The city is host to its own musical culture, and to those who know, it is a Narnia of great music, fantastic DJ’s, and extraordinary non-stop parties.
Berlin. A city of culture and history that holds a well-kept secret, that only the lucky get to discover. The city is host to its own musical culture, and to those who know, it is a Narnia of great music, fantastic DJ’s, and extraordinary non-stop parties.
I wanted to experience—for myself—this secret techno community, at its rawest, most diverse, and wackiest form. So I traveled there, with a friend of mine, and this is how it went.
Night 1 :: Thursday
We arrived in a cold and crisp Berlin about 3pm. November. The air was cold and the surroundings were busy, buzzing with people heading to and from the train station. We headed to the U-Bahn, Berlin’s underground public transport, an absolute lifesaver for getting around the city quickly and easily. We arrived at our hotel about 4pm. We were too excited to unpack, so we took a walk around the area; Friedrichstraße, the main cultural road running through the Northern part of old Mitte to the district of Kreuzberg. The area was magnificent to say the least. The buildings were amazing. The area was so posh and sophisticated. Our first impressions of Berlin were good, but it did not seem the type of place you would consider the home of wild all-night parties. Yet.
We started to get ready for the first of a series of big nights. I was apprehensive, everything I had heard about the strict door policies, and the type of people able to get in began to play on my mind. But surely these techno-nasty doormen can determine a person who is into the techno scene and who is not? Surely they base their decision on that over anything else? We didn’t drink too much beforehand, as we wanted to maintain levelheaded on arrival. We dressed in casual clothes, flat shoes and coats.
We were heading to Weekend for DJ Buck and Danilo Schneider. At its busiest, Weekend dominates the 12th and 15th floors of Haus Des Reisens in Alexanderplatz, and in summer the roof terrace. As we approached the huge dark building, we could see one high floor was flashing with blue and red lights. You couldn’t even see the entrance or a doorway from the distance, and there was absolutely no sign that it was a club whatsoever, besides the mysterious flashing stripe at the top of the building.
As we got closer we saw a black entrance with two doormen outside. It was so discreet, so hidden. It felt so secretive. Acting quietly confident, we approached, and after a look up and down we were in. Once inside, we were led by a young German guy through some double doors and into a lift. As we got higher and higher we could hear the music getting louder. The lift stopped and the guy directed us to the door. It felt so concealed and special, so exciting. We walked into the room to see the lights, the DJ booth and a great atmosphere. Everyone was casually dressed, happy, and dancing. We had arrived fairly early, about midnight, and the club wasn’t too busy at the beginning. There was a high sofa type seat running across the window side of the room, from there you could look out over Alexanderplatz, which by this time was a dark and fairly quiet set of roads. It didn’t feel real, we were so high up in this old GDR Building, with amazing music and a crowd that felt togetherness, it felt special to the few people inside. All the same kind of people were there, all dressed the same, there were no try-hards, no glamour-puss types, just real people, there for nothing more than the music.
We danced by the decks where DJ Buck was playing and the club started to fill up. The music was so good. His set up included CDJ’s and turntables. The club cheered as he dropped EQD “003B.” Everyone was in there element.
We started to get tired after a busy day, we decided to leave and get our sleep in for the next night. Outside the club there was no hustle and bustle like outside an English club. No swarms of people gossiping and shouting. There were no groups of people drunk and lairy, just nothing, apart form the lit up city lights. It was like we had never even been there as we walked back into the quietly collected streets, jumped in a taxi, and went to the hotel.
Night 2 :: Friday
We woke up feeling excited, firstly because we had gained entry to the first club with no trouble, secondly because of how much of a great night it was. We knew that in comparison to Berghain and Tresor, that Weekend was a fairly small club and perhaps more easy-going in terms of the door policy. So we weren’t completely fearless, but still secretly felt sense of a minor achievement.
We spent the day in Kreuzberg, and took a look around world famous independent record store Hard Wax, the hub of international techno. We stopped at a couple of quirky hippy-style cafes in the area and took a look at some local markets. I suppose we expected to be blasted with techno 24/7 in Berlin, but it wasn’t like that. In the day most shops and cafes played English and American music. There is no clue in the day-time of the rooted musical culture that we wanted to discover. You have to be in the know.
Another thing very noticeable almost everywhere you go in Berlin, is the street art. From random bits of building to rented flats, the walls are fantastically decorated with incredible artwork. Kreuzberg would be considered one of the quirkier areas, the people seemed young and the area wasn’t as posh as Friedrichstraße.
Friday night was about Tresor, Tuna Park event. Translated in English, Tresor means safe, or vault. We were slightly more nervous this time, the club was internationally famous, and we knew people were privileged to get in. As we approached, the building was grey and wide, an old industrial power station. Possibly the least likely building you would accept to be a nightclub. But it wasn’t a nightclub, once inside it was more like a musical space, where people sharing the same musical and cultural interests could come together and celebrate techno music in secret.
We tried to stay composed as we walked through the doorways and plastic curtain, we followed signs to the garderobe. We could hear the music pumping through the old stone walls. We headed for the basement and walked down a 30 metre concrete tunnel, it was dark and red flashing lights and strobes lit the way at the end. The music got louder and louder.
Again, a brief inspection and a pat down, and we were in. Such an amazing feeling, we tried to stay composed as we walked through the doorways and plastic curtain, we followed signs to the garderobe. We could hear the music pumping through the old stone walls. We headed for the basement and walked down a 30 meter concrete tunnel, it was dark and red flashing lights and strobes lit the way at the end. The music got louder and louder. At the end of the tunnel we entered a room filled with rows of safety deposit boxes, and metal bars, leading to the dance floor. The room was cloudy and filled with happy people. Everyone was whistling and cheering for the music. It was hard to take it all in, there was so much going on, such an amazing atmosphere which felt surreal. As we soaked up the surroundings, we looked to the back of the room, where there was a thick metal bar cage, which separated the crowd and the DJs. Youandme were behind the decks. The set up was busy, turntables, laptops and alcohol. The room was dark with a low ceiling, it was a techno bunker.
I went to the bar to get a drink, about 10-20 meters from the decks. The bass literally made my insides shake. It was so loud and clear, and not in any way distorted. The kind of sound that was loud enough to allow you to shut off, yet you could talk to the person next to you and hear them perfectly. An amazing sound system to say the least, to match the amazing venue, and atmosphere. It felt like we were within a secret community. We were.
Being inside Tresor felt like a dream. If you close your eyes and try to imagine a secret part of an old building that only the people inside it can experience, where music is played by the best taste makers in the business, and you are selected upon entry – that’s what it was like. You felt privileged to be inside, and we struggled to take it all in at once, as there was so much going on around us. It was amazing, in every way. And we could honestly say we had never been to a place quite like it.
I don’t know how or why we decided to do it, but we wanted to see more. It was about 5am, and we began to head to Watergate, a club known for its gorgeous location overlooking the River Spree. With only 4 nights in Berlin, we wanted to make the most of the opportunity, and so jumped into a taxi, and off we went. We arrived at a small doorway at the side of a very plain looking building, under a bridge. We queued and spoke to some French guys behind us.
Watergate was definitely one of the swankier clubs, it had a ceiling full of lights following the whole length of the club. There was fancy seating, many people were dancing, and others chilling out on the seats overlooking the water. We went down to a seating area overlooking the whole of the river, it was huge and the sun was just starting to come up. It looked amazing.
After taking in the fantastic view, we were hungry and more than satisfied with the night/morning we had had, and headed back to the hotel.
Night 3 :: Saturday
After what we considered to be an experience beyond everything we expected, we were well and truly ready for the big one. Berghain and Panorama Bar. The premier techno venues the ones that overshadow the rest. Both clubs are in a huge former power generation plant, and is the home of major record label Ostgut Ton. The line up was incredible, one that you’d be lucky to see in the UK on a normal Saturday. The event was open-ended, beginning at midnight on Saturday, and going through till Monday morning, if not later. Norman Nodge opening in Berghain, followed by Detroit techno legends, Octave One, then Hans Bouffmyhre, Marcell Dettmann and Ben Klock. In Panorama bar Tama Sumo, Steffi, Carl Craig amongst others. All DJ’s that we wanted to see, it was mad to think such big names would all be in one place and we were (hopefully) going to be there too.
We spent the evening sleeping, until about 1am, woke up, ate and had a few drinks to calm the excitement and nerves. We arrived about 4am, ready for the party to be in full swing. As we got out of the taxi, we joined the end of a huge queue leading down to the dull looking building. From the outside, following suit the building was tall, plain, and unfriendly looking. We queued for about an hour, and as we got closer we could see the much anticipated group of intimidating men we had read about. Famous for its wet-your-pants door policy, Berghain is possibly one of the strictest clubs, and we felt it. After queuing down a huge dirt track, you are then filtered through a cattle gate to the front, it felt as though you’d reached judgement day.
There were three doormen, one, about 7ft, bald, and wearing military style clothing, the kind of guy that could genuinely crush you with his hands. The second, was short and stern-looking with dark hair. The third; Sven, his face covered in metal and barbed wire tattoos, easily the most intimidating group I’d ever seen. A group of three German tourists from Frankfurt in front of us stepped forward for examination. They were looked up and down, and a simple head shake from the bouncer indicated a no-no for them. They pleaded which only made things worse. Watching this happen made us speechless, we couldn’t even look at each other. As a couple, we figured we may have more chance, than say a lairy single sex group. Anyway, we stepped into the spotlight to face the stern looking man holding a thick metal chain that hung from the doorway, and Sven, glaring evilly with a look that could pierce the skin. Trying to look composed, the man holding the chain muttered something in German, I didn’t understand, “How old?” he repeated in English. I quickly responded and we were waved in. Separated between metal gates I was met by a woman who took my bag off my shoulder and took out the contents. “Camera?,” “No, no camera.” She rifled through my things, good and proper. Then lumped it back in and nodded at me. Still so nervous. I eventually found Tom and queued to pay. Still shivering with fear/excitement, and refusing to show any signs of happiness. We paid, were stamped, and we were in. I cannot describe the feeling. But we tried to hold it in, in fear of being dragged out for looking too happy. It was such a special feeling, that I couldn’t express. We then queued up again for a coat drop. Taking in the surroundings, framed album covers, and a mix of eccentric dressers, sexual fetish wear, and the down right freaky. It was a lot to take in, and we felt so privileged to be part of it.
We walked into the first room, a huge open dark space with a bar and some stairs against the far wall, where the main room was. We got a drink and headed for the music. Octave One had just began their set, as we walked through the crowds what we could see what was like something you’d hear about in a mad foreign club, but you never actually see it. But we were in a mad club, everything was insane, insanely brilliant. We got near the front of the slightly raised decks, pre-tune drop. We looked at each-other, the sound as clear, but not as loud as we expected. All of a sudden, the most heart pounding drop made our insides sink. POUND POUND POUND. The most amazing sound, in both quality and clearness. The giant speakers blasted out the crispest noise. We could exhale, we were in, and we were in the midst of it, and we were going to have the best night of our lives.
The Burden brothers, were absolutely loving dominating the over excited crowd. They brought in Blackwater,” and went wild. Gyrating over the turntables and dancing like mad men to a crowd of crazy fans letting it all go on the dance floor. It was the best club atmosphere I’d ever witnessed.
The club inside was plain, ceilings about 20 meters high and just as you would imagine an ex-power generation plant to be. To the right of the main room was a bar and some steps leading up to a seated area, with an ice-cream counter and coffee machine. People were sat around with coffees, it was bizarre. But when you think that this party was to go on for possibly the next day or so, it was understandable. The sights were unreal, the people were extravagant. Berghain at its roots is a gay club, but the crowd were somewhat mixed. People happy to dress in fetish latex, leather hot pants, buckles and bondage gear. One guy was stood on a raised platform, wearing nothing but leather hotpants, and buckles over his nipples – having the time of his life.
We danced for hours, and ventured up the stairs to the left of the main room into Panorama Bar, where nd_baumecker was hosting the tall ceiling, crowded room. It was fantastic, slightly more housey than in Berghain, and everyone was dancing.
There are two dark rooms in Berghain, which are full of activity. Seriously, anything goes. There was bizarre artwork dotted around the club too, and Wolfgang Tillsman’s abstract work in Panorama. Which made it feel like some sort of strange twisted dream. The fact there is such a strict no-cameras policy makes it even more special and personal to you. No one knows what the club is like inside unless you have been yourself. It’s a privilige and something you would not take for granted, if you should be so lucky.
About 10am on Sunday morning, we decided to head back to the hotel. Our plans – to get some sleep, and refresh, then head back in a few hours. And we did just that. Confident in getting back in with our precious stamps. It was about 6pm, we went up the stairs to Berghain to see everyone still going for it. Everyone looked just as content as earlier on and Ben Klock was going crazy, regardless of the fact he had just gone back to back with Dettmann for 5 hours. A techno trooper. The sound quality was of such high standard and delivery of the set so perfect, it was unreal. We then headed to Panorama and caught a bit of Steffi and the start of Carl Craig’s set. It was about 10pm. And after 4 days of intense party-going, we were shattered.
It was sad to leave Berlin the next day, but we could safely say we had made the most of the time. Berlin is probably my favourite city, everything about it was so unique and fun and my experience there was better than I ever expected. For fans of the deep/tech house and techno scene, I strongly recommend it.
This crazy, magical, wonderland of eccentric and unique party-goers was eye-opening. Freaky but fantastic, and all part and parcel of the Berlin scene – exactly what we wanted to discover.
