Sydney; We have to talk about the state of our nightlife.

I was born and raised in the super rural area and region called the Riverland. Situated on the Murray River among the citrus, stone fruit trees and vineyards. As a kid growing up there we always complained there wasn’t much to do, but we were fortunate that there were plenty of parties held in peoples back paddocks or sheds and the small town halls. Everyone knew everyone and it was the only real way to meet boys other than inter-school sports days, MSN messenger or ICQ. There were literally 3 nightclubs and my Dad and his friends were the security there. There were fights and drunken nights out. The next day was debrief at the only Maccas in the region to nurse your hangover and discuss with your besties what you got up to.  It wasn’t un – common to drive 3 hours to Adelaide and the big city to go clubbing and even when we were out in the big smoke, there was still that sense of community as we even got shout outs for repping the Riverland crew.

I’ve been working in the club and entertainment industry off and on for the last 15 years throughout Australia. I can assure you it was never for the money as well, the hours you put in vs what you got paid differ exponentially. I always loved a challenge coming into venues that needed some organising, a membership put in place and looking after the acts and DJ’s. I loved house music, my friends and ex’s were DJ’s and I immersed myself in the scene.  You got to know your regulars, became friends with your members and you always ended up back at some ones place for staffie’s after a 14 hour shift. Sunday sessions were king and god forbid anyone ever called or asked you to work on a Monday.  You knew every long weekend in the year of the top of your head and when a Saturday night fell.

My social and personal life (what little there was of it) revolved heavily around my work life and the scene.  Christmas and Easter night it was the norm for my family to expect me to go “clubbing” or as my yia yia so put it “to the disco”. When one of my good friends got married over 10 years ago now post reception and as soon as the bridal party were out the door, we were out the door, 3 hours in the car so we could catch the headlining DJ play that night. All dates always were cross referenced to who was in town and what international DJ I had playing.  This might seem crass, but this is the life of many in the industry. You don’t give it a second thought when your love and passion go hand in hand.

In 2007 when my time was up from living in the US of A, there was only one obvious choice of where I would move to, Sydney. After a taste of bright lights, late nights and big city convenience had come into my life, the small smoke wasn’t an option. Sydney I was coming for you. I’d visited the city over the years for club events and parties at the likes of The Greenwood, The Arthouse, Tank, Home Nightclub and various clubs and bars in and around the Cross. The Cross was the entertainment playground and precinct for perverts and purveyors of the late night. I loved it.

Working in hospitality we worked hard and partied harder, like an Irishman’s right to drink from birth as a hospo worker it was expected you’d wind up shit faced and eating a bad kebab at 5am. A rite of passage if you will.  Every week it was the same, pre- drinks post work, get changed and go party.  To the Cross! The line ups to get in were massive, you’d get stuck on a cab going up William Street for ages and you’d get dropped at the Holiday Inn for a quick bathroom break and then to check you had your shit kind of together.  I’d always go first as I could always talk our way in (regardless of how inebriated we were) and we eventually got friendly with the bouncers.

So much of my weekly pay check was spent on the bar, late night taxis and bacon and egg rolls the next day. It was fun, I felt young and my feet hurt the next day. The signs of a good night out were an empty bank account, bruised knees and waking up and thinking “wtf why does my arm hurt”? Oh that’s right, you got a tattoo at 2am. Of course.

The Sydney I first met and fell in love with has changed and it breaks my heart. Have I changed?  Yes of course.  Have I stopped going out as much? Yes and I partly responsible for the decline and death of the scene? Maybe a little but the state of our scene and industry now is such a sorry state, dare I say it Sydney it’s embarrassing.

I live in the 2011 postcode and area which are Rushcutters Bay, Potts Point, Elizabeth Bay, and Kings Cross. I worked in Kings Cross for 4 years and I saw it go from a bustling metropolis to a dire and dead shit hole. I miss the junkies asking you for a dollar, I miss the strippers standing out the front in the morning wishing you a good day, I miss the comradery and sense of community you’d feel and have with other venue owners, staff and management and laughing at all the girls in their bandage dresses showing their knickers. It was entertainment, it was fun, it was interesting and it paid the bills.

I saw the changes of legislation come into place, I saw how the media and government used scare monger tactics to deter people from coming to the region and area. I have guests and groups cancel bookings, I saw venues reduce their days and hours of trade, staff members have their hours cut and eventually venues close their doors.

What irritates me the most is that people who jump on the bandwagon and rally or show support for venues closing are those that likely have zero involvement or insight into all the hard work, effort, passion and hours that go into putting on an event or party.  But if you don’t like the music or the culture, yeah no worries but what about the people that have lost jobs because of this and there are many. With a country that has such an ageing population (and our tax dollars are now going to support your aging arses) will there even be Dr’s there to treat you? How are they meant to pay and support themselves while they study? It sure as shit won’t be from the government benefits and entitlements.

Hospitality has always been the bread and butter for a variety of students while they put themselves through their higher education. It pays well, the hours are flexible and it creates a better customer service experience and instills work ethic. It’s my bread and butter too!

How can we expect people to be self-resilient and reliant if we’re taking away their jobs, their opportunities and freedoms due to a few fuckwits? Our culture is embarrassing, our city as a tourist destination is woeful and we’re seriously the laughing stock of life. Is there any coming back from this? Does it even matter what we think or feel? It seems not.

Sydney you’re overpriced, you’re lack luster without culture, you provide little in the way of entertainment and nightlife. While I hate to say this and it breaks my heart to do so, a break up in the near future might be imminent. I’m not sure we can continue in this bland and foreboding relationship. I want spice, I need passion, a zest for life and being able to do something past 10pm. I feel we might be drifting apart. I’ll spare you the bullshit in that it’s certainly you not me. Don’t be surprised if I might leave you for your sultry and wilder cousin Melbourne. She gets it the trollop!

Chrissy..