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Are Parties on the Tube the Future of British Clubbing?

Who needs actual nightclubs when you can wave a plastic sword about on the Piccadilly Line?

Josh Baines

Josh Baines

This article appeared originally on THUMP UK.

Christ. Monday morning. The end of October. Thick, grey skies and flu-filled commutes. If this is life then, well, we're not really that fussed about taking part in it for much longer. Or at least we weren't until we were nudged in the direction of a some visual material that offers a glimmer of hope in our post-nightlife age. And, no, it wasn't this timeless clip of a bloke falling off a table in Wetherspoons after what seems to be about 12 pints of Shipyard IPA.

What it was was this bit of content that fell into our laps courtesy of the Lad Bible—that bastion of blokeishness. In the video you can watch over and over below, you'll see what might just be the future of British clubbing. Just a few weeks ago, we here at THUMP examined just why clubs need to think outside the box when it comes to using spaces and venues. Well, some enterprising soul's done just that. With gusto!

You might find the idea of a late night journey home soundtracked by a bloke playing grating FruityLoops techno from an iPad pretending that a tube carriage is his very own nightclub incredibly annoying, but that'd make you a curmudgeon. And who wants to be a curmudgeon? Why be a miserable old sod when you could be a bloke waving a plastic sword around and wearing a leather kilt and a Sutton Hoo mask?

Perhaps this really is a viable method for rescuing a beleaguered industry—get blokes to pretend they're running nightclubs because at least that makes it look like there's more than six of them left. You can do it anywhere: the local garden centre, an acupuncturist's waiting room, in the gift shop of a National Trust property.

The possibilities are endless. Thank you, strange men of the night tube. Thank you.

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