The night started out with me thinking that clubs here don’t start until midnight, so I don’t need to think about getting there early. Then, at 11.15, I remembered that it was New Years Eve and you probably actually want to be *in* the club at midnight. Eep.
After a fairly serious stomp to get to the station the train wasn’t due for another five minutes. Damnit. Theres a really nervous edge to everyone on the train at ten minutes to midnight, are we going to get there on time? Roppongi was different tonight – sure, still full of gaijin, but it didn’t have the normal sleazy feel, everyone seemed to be busy being somewhere ready to welcome the new year. Apart from the lone guy shouting ‘topless topless topless topless’ at any passing male.
Slowing down occasionally to look at the map on the flyer (which I’m not particularly confident will actually lead me to the venue) I arrive in the locality of the venue with about a minute to spare. Spotting someone who I recognise from previous events on the phone outside I acost him to show me where the club is rather than try to look for it. Poor lad.
Confusing things happen while I’m trying to get in – there are a couple of people in front of me, who seem to be having a really complicated time getting in. I try to pay on the door but they want to let me in on the guest list – a nice thought but totally undeserved, so I insist on paying.
Once inside it doesn’t seem anyone has noticed the time – its now something just gone midnight according to my phone (which *might* be wrong, ‘cos back home I always had a habit of keeping my phone clock set ten minutes fast…but I don’t think this one is…”Time is an illusion, lunchtime doubly so”). Thats OK, I’ve not missed anything important.
Ten minutes later Rob turns up and everything starts to make sense – there were a number of people who confused me for him over the evening, and he’s DJing – then all the decoration obscuring the projector is torn down and a countdown video started. Party poppers & a big cheer. Welcome to the new year, 10 minutes late, start as you mean to go on…
The music was good, with a nice mix of traditional goth and more modern industrial, I didn’t recognise much at the begining but as the evening went on there were plenty of things I did know. I was thrown slightly by hearing “Custom built for Anger”, I’d not expected Chaos Engine to be known here.
There were some traditional noodles served after ‘midnight’, though my tabasco monster hadn’t settled enough for me to be able to face *more* food right now, and theres something sinister about food at clubs, you can’t see it.
Then there was the pvc girl – just the right shape for it, tight enough to be interesting, not tight enough to make unseemly bulges anywhere – I don’t think I’ve ever seen pvc look so good. She was also outstanding because there were no other even vaguely ‘fetish’ outfits there, maybe the goth/fetish crossover doesn’t exist here in way it does in the UK?
“Its a perfect day” finished the club at a bit gone three. There was a plan to head to a restaurant. Reassuringly herding goths here seems to be as difficult as back home, it took about half an hour for everyone to get organised, out the club and into an appropriate line to head back toward Roppongi Crossing.
Walking through Roppongi as a group of black-clad people seemed to attract as much attention as it does back home, but without the same menace. We arrived at AlcaTraz, the prison themed restaurant I’ve been intending to visit for a while, but never had a reason to.
They brought us some food, but really this was just an excuse for more drinking, being an all-you-can-drink affair, which never really works for me as a non-drinker. But that was OK, I got to talk to some of the people in the scene here so I was quite happy about it even if direct value for money for the food wasn’t particularly good.
Five oclock (or six, maybe…) came and they kicked us out. Noone could decide what to do next so we all stood outside taking pictures of each other for a bit. Geeked with Rob for a bit while everyone else looked pretty and tried not to be run over by cars with blacked out windows and bassy stereos.
Eventually some people started drifting off and a plan was made to retire to Starbucks for a coffee before heading home, a few people headed off for karaoke which perhaps I should have joined in with (seeing as its more Japanese than coffee), but quiet conversation was calling me and a chance to talk to some of these people properly.
Most of the time there I was talking to Kaori-san, who works for a record company over here and seems to have impeccable taste in films, also present, among others, were Isola-san (who I didn’t recognise without her curly hair) and the girl running tonights event, whose name I don’t remember. Everyone seemed really lovely and quite surprised to find a real English person.
I made my escape around 8.30 (but my phone battery had died by then so I don’t actually know what time it was) to be back home just gone 9. Which always makes a bit of a mess of the next day.