Progressive Garage – Progress at Derby
There are two common misconceptions about clubbing
in this country. The first, is that clubs can not achieve the level
of friendliness and atmosphere that they generated two or three
years ago, and the second, is that you require a bank account of
gargantuan proportions to afford a good night out. To my mind these
theories are about as accurate as an English fast bowler on acid,
and Progress proves my point.
Started only 8 months ago, when a capacity 480 jammed in to see Jon
De Silva play at the Warehouse, Progress has risen to become one the
UK’s leading clubs. Regularly patronised by the likes to Pete Tong,
Alistair Whitehead, Justin Robertson, Dave Seaman et al, it has
acquired a reputation for consistently providing a top night for a
ridiculously meagre sum of £3 with flyer before 10.30pm and only a
fiver at all other times. So the time has come to check out the club
about which Lisa Loud has said "I’ll cancel any fucking gig to play
there”.
On arrival at 10.00pm, we met a fairly large queue for such an early
time. No matter though, we were soon at the door to be met by a
rather large shaven headed bouncer – a friendly one at that. Further
investigation revealed that the doorman in question was non-other
than Russell Davison, DJ and along with Pete Wye, co-founder of
Progress. No wonder the place is so cheap, when the organisers do
all the jobs, I half expected to see him serving behind the bar
later on.
Let’s be honest, Progress is not a big club in terms of floor space.
Set out over two floors downstairs is the main bar and chill out
area with music fed down. Upstairs is the dance area with the DJ box
closer the dance floor than I’ve ever seen before.
Small dance platforms are dotted about with a larger one running the
length of the back wall. Be warned, those of you that like to dance
above the crowd, arrive early, all the platforms were packed by
10.30pm. Along the front wall is the upstairs bar and to the left of
it access outside to a balcony decked out with benches and trestle
tables – ideal for a club that gets hotter than an Indians arse
after a chicken vindaloo.
By 10.30pm the place was rocking, with the small tightly packed
dance floor really coming into its own and the whole of the room
seemed to be bouncing along quite merrily.
Guest DJ Andy Roberts (Cream/Birmingham) was spot on, covering for
the cancelled Mike Pickering, and the music overall was an excellent
mixture of solid House tinged with the odd bit of Garage. As all the
top venues do, Progress saved the best till last. Pete Wye and
Russell Davison took over for the last hour and a half and in
between consuming what appeared to be vast quantities of alcoholic
beverages sent the crowd mad. There was much hand waving, clapping
and general abandonment (the women next to be taking one poppers
sniff too many, staggering around like Bambi on ice for a few
seconds before inevitably collapsing on top of somebody) until,
after about half a dozen encores and handing out copious bottles of
bubbly from the DJ box (a weekly tradition I’m told) things came to
a close with the crowd still baying for more.
It has to be said that Progress will not suit everybody, for those
of you that like acres of space to dance, subtle chill out rooms and
not to see people you came with all night – forget it. One the other
hand, if you like a happy crowd, good music and sweating your
bollocks off – it’s the place for you.
Finally, next time you’re about to shell out £25 for a major event
think for a second. You could pay for yourself and seven mates to
get into Progress – makes you think doesn’t it?
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