All Night Long

Sometimes a plastic pint glass and a £12 Mac n Cheese in the Gilded Balloon courtyard just isn’t going to cut it. Sometimes you just need to go where the sequins are plentiful and the music bone-shakingly loud. You just need a come to a Madonna moment in a sweaty pile of strangers. Well glory glory hallelujah and all hail mother chicken, because there are at least three shows this year guaranteed to give you exactly the feel-good disco enema we all need after a full day of trauma informed puppetry.

"The Fringe has suffered a death of its night time vibes, mainly because venues aren’t creating brilliant new spaces for artists and dreamers," says Aidan Sadler, the demonic David Bowie curator of Big Gay Afterparty. "People are gagging for a crazy late-night experience, but if you can only find that in networky artist bars, then what can you do?! Create a space for yourself!"

Giving you exactly what it says on the tin, Sadler’s show is a revolving cabaret, with over 70 performers, local and international already lined up including "Aussie Swamplesque stars Trigger Happy & Tash York, the high priestess of Edinburgh Drag Mystika Glamoor, and Caribbean burlesque queen of the North East Ebony Silk." And with Sadler taking us through until past 3am, "the party only stops when the people stop partying!"

Jonny Hawkins / photo by Alex Carlyle

The preservation of alternative, Queer and life affirming spaces feels increasingly vital in a squeezed night time economy. "It’s difficult to find authentically engaged pockets of community and new sounds," bemoans superstar Australian DJ Jonny Hawkins, whose show Dancefloor Conversion Therapy is offering big beat baptisms. "It's a really hard time for small and independent venues in a culture which prioritises celebrity and revenue. They're losing their regulars who’ve baked the smell of their sweat on the walls."

Hawkins is using his past as a Christian youth minister to preach the disco gospel in his part-rave, part-music history lecture, hosted by Hawkins’ alter ego "mischievous, shameless night time person" Aunty Jonny. Nobody is losing their religion here, rather finding a new one in "transcendental moments, lovely depravity and godless spirituality."

Hawkins’ club may be a ‘godless temple’ but it's not the only option for discotheque salvation. After changing the lives of over 2000 people last year, The House of Life is back and the Raverend has new tunes, new boots and the same trusty altar boy (Trev). While for some, in particular LGBTQ+ folk, church was a place of judgement rather than affirmation, the Raverend is keen to reclaim and celebrate "the places where people come together: churches, protests, football matches, gigs. Like a well-oiled lasagne recipe, we’ve taken seasonings from each and layered up our own version of spiritual enlightenment."

House of Life / Photo by Raphael Achache

The House of Life is more than a little cult-like. The Raverend somehow manages to foster meaningful connection, self love (and slavish devotion to mother chicken) with little more than an egg shaker, a glitter beard and impeccable vibes. It’s maybe just what people need right now,  a serious injection of positive vibes, "...a release. A space to elevate, to shout and scream and dance while the world falls apart around us."

Aren’t we all looking for somewhere where we can find ourselves dancing in spite of ourselves? And isn’t that even more crucial for Queer folks, who are often made to feel like they need to make themselves smaller? Sadler thinks so, "queerness is all about being bold, brave, resilient," we deserve "affordable entry, extra security – a safe space – heaven!"

"The world is cruel for those who are different," echoes Hawkins, "so come dance to disco music and conform with us non-conformists."