image: Wayne Parry
Being somewhat of a Rainbow veteran, the most exciting aspect of Ten Years of Rainbow, for me, was its unification of the nights that made the venue, and the artists that made the nights. Ten years ago, The Rainbow Venues were little more than a pub with a garden. Today, it is a collection of warehouse spaces, cordoned off street arenas, railway arches and a courtyard. The pub pretty much looks just as it did when it first opened, and the warehouse looks pretty much the same as it would if it was still a Victorian factory. This is part of The Rainbow’s primordial charm.
There’s something very alluring about visiting a venue in the daytime. Daylight shone through the roof panels at 4pm as if it was 6 in the morning, and suddenly you’re completely oblivious to where you are, what time it is and how long you’ve been out.
Perhaps the most humbling facet of the weekend was the moment hundreds of dedicated ravers made the onerous decision between catching a glimpse of headliners Gorgon City and reminiscing in the smallest arena of the evening – Bigger Than Barry vs Gutterskank. The decision was tough, but, for me (and as it soon became clear, many others) – a no brainer. Bigger Than Barry was one of the most iconic nights in its day, and Gutterskank held its own as one of the only places you could listen to garage and drink red stripe from a can on a Sunday afternoon. It was a bittersweet moment having to turn around and abandon the idea of entering Room Two; disappointment was soon overthrown by an overwhelming sense of pride and respect. Anyone who can draw crowds away from Gorgon City and Eats Everything deserves little more than an MBE.
More often than not, The Rainbow line ups are a matter of personal taste – you’ll go to Seedy Sonics if you like drum and bass, and you’ll head down to Face if you prefer techno. Ten Years of Rainbow shattered all genre barriers and it was a welcome sight to see a spectrum of supporters raving together under one roof. By the end of the day there was not a dry armpit in sight: those once bright white kicks were now a sullen shade of mud, and pristine faces now mascara-stained with eyelashes akimbo – all the telltale signs of an absolutely smashing night in our books.
The Rainbow is a victim of its own success – with its legendary status, faultless line up and transcendent atmosphere, no number of street marquees will ever hold the capacity it attracts week in, week out. And as a venue, if that’s your biggest problem? It’s not a bad problem to have.
