The Tragic World of Student-Run Club Nights

It used to be that for the musically-minded, going to university meant starting a band. Pubs were full of singer/songwriters studying French and History, halls of residence wobbled to the sounds of bearded physics students jamming the latest King Tubby LP. Times have changed. The kids who would have been fronting a metal band called Lucifer's Cradle now promote hardcore brostep nights and fans of The Libertines now spin FlyLo cuts at their mates' parties.

These events only exist at all because of one sort of individual. You know the type: standing beside the bus stop, one hand clutching a rollie, the other stuffed with a stack of lurid promotional material, nothing but a few layers of Carhartt between him and the elements. You know the casual nod as he sticks a flyer out at you. His voice is saying, "New house night guys?" while his eyes say, "please, please help me."
 
So where did it all go wrong? How did you end up in a cold living room at 5 AM, £800 in debt, staring at the leftover rider your DJing mates were too pissed to finish? The coffee table piled with posters that have turned from banners of promise into huge A3-sized salty wounds. In an effort to shed some light on the pitfalls and lead you to an evening of glory and musical wonder, let's examine the biggest mistakes of the most blighted student club events.
 
You haven't got a good idea.
One of the most glaringly obvious but overlooked issues is that without actually finding a style of music that isn't already over-represented in your city, people won't have a reason to come. This might not be as much of a problem if you want to start a jungle night in Chipping Sodbury, but another house night in Birmingham? There are already six this Saturday. Equally try not to have too many "good ideas". We heard from a short-lived night in Oxford, which claimed to offer (in no particular order): house, electro, R&B, shisha bar, fish bowls, fancy dress photo booth, VIP table packages and even shot girls. Basically Geordie Shore on acid.

 
Your poster sucks.
Promotional artwork for nights seem to be an area where artistic, commercial and moral standards are completely forgotten. Club nights are still stuck in a linear mentality that dictates the best way to promote something is either with a huge typeface or a huge pair of tits. Or both. Shit parties come bundled with flyers that fuse soft porn with energy drinks. No one wants that.
  
Everyone lies on Facebook.
The easiest lie of all: clicking 'attend' on a Facebook event invite. Sometimes I do it with the best of intentions, genuinely telling myself that this time I will make it down to the launch party of your acid techno night. Only as the evening draws closer, and I demolish an entire packet of tortellini and discover Hot Fuzz is on ITV2, my enthusiasm weakens and wanes. 1,440 of the 1,452 attendees are experiencing the exact same thing. There's something quite comforting about that. If everyone else on Facebook says they're going, you don't have to bother, right?

The venue doesn't care.
The venue you have hired for the night is only going to let you do your thing if it can guarantee not to lose money. This normally means you're asked to pay a deposit that you only get back if your party brings in a certain amount of money at the bar. Even if you do, with all sorts of small print clauses in your contracts, venues can often find ways claim that lovely deposit whilst making serious papes on Carlsberg.
 
You will spend too much money
The whole thing costs too much. You've got to pay for promotional material, a venue, beers for the DJs and you should probably pay the DJ too. Hosting a night in an old abattoir was a great idea but soundsystems don't come cheap. You've got to charge a decent door fee to try and recoup that cash. Many of the people who spoke to us about their experiences said their nights had cost anywhere between £5 and £10 for entry. If you don't have a known DJ playing, most people would sooner spend a tenner on fifty Mars Bars than stand in a basement listening to your mate Nightshade (real name Nathan) trying to mix "Numbers on the Board" into "That's Not Me". Goodbye student loan, hello uncomfortable phone call with your mother.

 
You won't spend enough money
We were tipped off about one attempt in Belfast at a night called Snipes hosted in a club called Beach Party. Chosen because of its affordability, a quick Google could tell you that it's the sort of place that would consider a meet and greet with three original members of Blazin' Squad an absolute scoop. Famed for spiked drinks and bloody noses, the venue was apparently such a dive that the promoter starting offering a door-to-door bus service in order to get his mates to come. Basic lesson: shell out a little bit more in the first place for a club that doesn't smell of piss and Red Bull and reap the long term rewards.
 
You will try and have fun
Your own enjoyment is one of the last things you should even begin to think about. Unlike any other remotely creative venture, a club night is so rooted in its commercial viability that the idea of getting turnt yourself should never, ever come into the equation. There's too much to worry about. Obviously enjoy yourself, what's the point otherwise? Just don't try and alleviate the pressure with that whole pack of Red Stripe your DJs haven't noticed.

When done properly, starting a night is a fulfilling, enriching, rewarding experience. Only you've got to work really fucking hard. As amazing as it sounded the other night when you effortlessly segued Les Sins into Frank Booker, that doesn't mean you have the acumen to package a sellable after-dark adventure to a bunch of cash-strapped students with a fistful of other options. Without the crucial considerations listed above, you will be set to join the ranks of countless other crestfallen dreamers, promising 241 shots to an empty room.

Follow Angus on Twitter: @a_n_g_u_s