“Where do you normally hang out, Josh?” Facebook friends of mine quite often ask me this, and it makes me feel sheepish. I’ve exposed so much of my own and my friends’ lives that I feel self-conscious about people possibly stumbling across me actually doing the things I write about.  Making jokes in print about being a luckless nob-end is one thing, actually being on show while being a luckless nob-end is another entirely.  Now my post-London paper readership has inevitably shrunk, however, being coy about my normal whereabouts seems precious and self-important – I’m a former columnist from a defunct afternoon free paper, not Osama Bin Laden.

So for the record, I normally hang out in what likes to think of itself as London’s “alternative” gay scene.  I’m talking about places like the (mixed/gay) Nelson’s Head and Vogue Fabrics in East London, the Griffin in Vauxhall, plus places where there’s more of a mixed crowd like the Eagle and the Vauxhall Tavern.  I put inverted commas around the word alternative for good reason – despite its various pretensions, this small niche is in denial about how similar it is to the mainstream gay scene.  At its worst (yes Dalston Superstore, I’m talking to you) it can be cliquey, mono-cultural (in this case, mainly white and middle class) and unwelcoming to faces that don’t “fit”.  It is admittedly less body conscious and flashy than the muscle scene, but still has its fair share of fashion fascism and status-consciousness.  I’ve met many wonderful people out and about, but I’ve also come across a few vacuous scenesters who won’t deign to acknowledge anyone until they’ve had piss fun with Wolfgang Tillmans.

Given my mixed feelings about this scene, you might ask, why do I hang out on it?  Because despite its faults, it’s where I meet most people I have things in common with.  They play music I like, the lighting tends to be flatteringly low and the drugs of choice are mainly legal (early druggy excess followed by depression has left me easily freaked out by heavy drug use).  After years hanging around like “the smell of spilt milk on vinyl flooring” as my friend Jon puts it, I know lots of people, like many of them and even love a few.

This column, however, has shown how much I might have missed by staying in my own little rut.  When I started writing it, I was amazed and moved to find that people I’d never met recognised their experiences in what I wrote.  While I’d been keeping my head down all these years, my life actually had a whole lot more in common with other people than I thought.  As a slightly reclusive and sometimes shy person, this was a bit of a bombshell – a good one.  Instead of judging people I thought were excluding me, I realised that I myself had been zoning out all sorts of people who, underneath the surface, were actually a lot like me. For that readers, I’d really like to thank you all.

Anyway, I seem to have lost track of the real reason I started writing this piece in the first place: friends of mine have been hassling me to plug their club nights.  I’ve finally caved in, and will be occasionally drawing your attention to a few in future.  I’m starting with one of my favourite nights, the monthly Kimono Krush at the Vauxhall Tavern, which just happens to be coming up this very Friday, the 14^th of May,  with a Tribute to the 90s – find more information here. A toxic mix of random but excellent music, low-rent go-gos and exquisitely tragic tranny lipsynching, I find it has the leftfield energy I like on the alternative gay scene minus its occasional self-important attitude.  I’ve had some fantastic nights there – all the photos surrounding this piece are from KK – and if any readers feel like coming along (I can’t make it myself, alas) the very friendly organisers will be delighted to take your fiver.

Kimono Krush is at The RVT, Vauxhall 9 – 2.30 am Friday the 14^th of May. £3 before 10, £5 after.

Popularity: 9% [?]