Late one Thursday in March 1988, Dave Swindells walked into a tiny, sweat-drenched club in central London and found himself present at the birth of a new cultural revolution.
The venue, behind Charing Cross station, was packed with revellers dancing energetically to a variant of house music that had recently emerged out of Chicago, typified by squelchy sound effects from a Roland TB-303 synthesiser. Spurning the dressier fashions of the 80s London club scene, many in the crowd were wearing baggy jeans and T-shirts or jumpers with loud, clashing patterns. There was a euphoria in the air that couldn’t be explained by musical appreciation alone. “I got that instant hit,” Swindells recalls. “This was really something big happening. I just felt the whole year was instantly transformed.”
