Clowtown Adelaide: Part 2

What to do in Adelaide: Techno and Party Wildstyle

​Continued from Part 1
Meanwhile, the dance floor (which I was told was equipped with sensor-lights that would respond to the movement of its inhabitants) had a few people scattered around. A masked DJ dropped some wonky beats and bass, and three women dressed in black bondage gear stole the attention in front of the DJ booth, vogueing, and removing items of clothing, posing for the camera. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned around. The DJ had removed his mask. It was the guy from earlier. He smiled before again enveloping his head in cloth. The dancing continued, but within 15 minutes it was curfew, and the music faded out.

People were ushered out, and mild chaos ensued. People began discussing a ‘lock in’. We wondered what it was. By the time someone answered, it was apparent we were part of it. The bar tender did a head count, and verbally ticked off each head, ensuring they knew who was still inside the venue.
‘You’re cool. You’re fine. That’s the DJ,’ fingers were pointed.

‘They’re from Brisbane, they’re cool,’ as we were counted.

‘They’re not cops!’ someone added, allaying earlier fears about the foreigners who’d gate crashed the party.

The little gathering was uneventful, and people discussed kick on venues. A bush doof was offered up as an option, which to us sounded terrible. The thought of heading into the countryside as the temperature continued to drop, to a place devoid of Ubers or taxis, sans warm bed etc etc, did not sound appealing. We opted for a joint down the road called ‘Super Mild’ and the night continued. Super Mild was a conglomerate of bar/ smoking balcony/ beer garden and despite the lesser energy of the place, most of the crowd from earlier ended up there.

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