KAOS

Publix sex, drugs, nudity, transexuals, Goths, monsters and businessmen. A club for all. Let me start at the beginning.

Kaos founders Lee and Bradley set up Kaos as an underground party that was in total contrast to the mainstream gay scene. Rather than being a place where muscle marys could stand around giving attitude and posing, which played commercial music and anthems, it was to be a place for all those alienated by the commercial gay scene. And for a number of years it had a strict dress code. You had to dress up, in an interesting way. Not necessarily leather or bondage, not necessarily drag but you had to make an effort. This meant that only a certain kind of visually daring person came, or people who were game enough to try.

Well, this was the Kaos seventh birthday party. And I was the opening DJ. My first London gig. Lee had warned me not to play anything with vocals in it. We don't want to hear a woman screaming take me higher, take me higher, he said. I knew that there wouldn't be many people there for most of  my set, so I selected a mellow warm up set, preparing to take it harder as more people arrived.

Bill and I arrived early. So early, in fact that we came while the head bouncer was training his security team in the finer issues of door security. We just sat in the  corner and watched. Some of his presentation involved physical handlocks and immobilising techniques. Some of it was tips on how to spot trouble and how to handle it. For example, one bouncer stands back and watches the whole room while the other goes forward to talk to the troublemaker. One of the female bouncers asked him how to handle someone pulling her hair from behind. He demonstrated what he would do. If he'd had any hair, you can believe me when I tell you I wouldn't be pulling it myself! A lot of what he said made sense. You give people firm rules and boundaries, and then let them have fun. Play safe. Don't be obvious with your drug taking. And in the case of Kaos, don't walk around with your willy out. Well, that rule lasted till about 4 am and then there were too many willies out to control...

My set went well. The room was empty when I started at 11 but I had a good roomful dancing by the time I finished at 1. Doctor Mu, a beautiful French DJ, towering about everyone else at 6feet 6 plus mohican was a gentle giant. He did my make up for me, painting a strip of fluorescent orange paint on my head and down my spine. This looked quite cool under the UV, though a couple of people asked me if I was a Hindu or a Hari Krishna follower. Oh well. Billy painted on a black eyemask, like Robin, Batman's pal and pranced around all night like an impish superhero, getting a lot of admiring looks from various people.

DJ Halo followed me. Apparently she was a stuffy librarian years ago until someone invited her to Trade and she took her first pill. The rest is history. She's a top underground DJ and has just been asked to be resident at the new Trade. Yes, the wonderful icon of all night partying is relaunching!! Dr. Mu followed, then Wandson Maxx and finally Lee started at 7 am (Choronzon). Wow, what a night of musical excellence. I danced till 9 am! What wonderful, wonderful DJs. What wonderful, wonderful music.

Now what about all this sex, you ask. Well, let's say the club was very permissive. There were two back rooms. One was a kind of lounge area with a big cushion covered dais. The other was just a plain old fashioned dark room. The darkroom was, well, dark and I cannot report on what went on in there. The lounge was not dark and what I saw was not really what I wanted to see but it involved two large naked men and a transexual. At one point security came in and asked her not to put her stilletos on the mattress. I was going to point out that her legs were mostly in the air but it seemed best not to interfere. The shoes came off and the bouncer went away satisfied. I'm sure the cushions were very grateful.

Later the nudity seemed to spread to the dancefloor. A very tall, handsome young man with a magnificent body and a very impressive piece of tackle spent a good part of the night wandering around naked with a can of Heineken in one hand. A few people rang his bell, so to speak, at which he strangely shied away. 'What does he expect to happen?' asked one of my friends, not known for his compassion and understanding. 'He just wants to get fucked by trannies!'. That's probably true. The venue is a transgender club the rest of the time and there were a lot of middle aged men in suits wandering about looking very out of place next to the six foot drag queens and punky gays. And HIndu DJs...

More sex scenes...a man ordering a drink at the bar getting fingered by the man behind him. A woman in leather rubbing herself against my butt as I was buying a drink 'it's alright love, I'm not trying to fuck you, you can relax' she purred. Two lesbians kissing while a man on his knees rimmed one of them. Oh my gosh, I certainly wasn't in Kansas any longer! A bit later I was by the bar and a drunken Russian turned to me and said 'I still love pussy! Tell me you don't love pussy!' I affirmed that this was indeed the case but at that point his drinks arrived and we parted.

The thing is, once you get used to the place it's totally welcoming. It's so honest and upfront and accepting that it actually makes the commercial gay scene with it's poseyness seem positively dysfunctional.

And I discovered the very best line to put off unwelcome chat ups. You just grab them and introduce them to your future husband. 'We're getting married next week' you say. It works a charm!

Sorry but I don't have any pics to post...