I BIKINl CLUB at the Fringe Club. Bristo Square. Every Saturday of the Festival. 9pm-2.3llam. £3.50. Loveably wacky moptop tourpiece. The Spooks. combine live performance with kitsch club sounds in an atlectionate and humorous (not to mention popular) 608 parody.

I MAMBO CLUB at Network 2, Toltcross. Every night duringthe Festival. 11pm—4am. £3.50 (£3). Sir Ossie promises a great party with his eclectic blend olAtrican. Latin and salsa. reggae. soca and calypso. I ill-NOTE atthe Underground Club. Niddry Street. Every night torthe tirst two weeks otthe Festival. 10pm—4am. £3.50 (£3). London's best underground jazz dance club venture. north tora lortnight at a brand new venue. Latin and Atrican. salsa and bebop taves. plus guest DJs and live acts. Checkthis out.

I SADDLE SORE atthe Pelican. Cowgate. Every Thursday duringthe Festival. 10pm—3am. £1. Yee-Haw! Everything starts with a C & W at Edinburgh‘s only country and western club. The white denim cowboy plays those classic stand by your man and lay the blanket onthe ground sort otsongs. whilethe band with no name provide alternative entertainment. Puts the sad in saddle. so it does.

T I SHAG at The Mission. Cowgate. Every Thursday during the Festival. 10.30pm4am. £2. Those tun-loving boys with the propensity loriuvenile sexual inuendo and distributing tree chocolate. host a special Clitt Richard night on 16 Aug. Join with them on the anniversary at his 31 years. 11 months and 5 days at the top in a tribute to the man who invented rock and roll. Guaranteed not to play any of his records. but who knows? You might win a “Summer ltoliday' video.

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Man in the Moon

In preparation for their visit to the Festival. the Brain Club of London organised a weekend party in Iceland. Avril Mair packed her thermal underwear and went Euro-clubbing.

Communication Space. ‘Amidst the plastic veneer of corporate culture a Brain has been implanted. pulsating in time to a pagan beat. The heartbeat of the Earth fuelled with the techno-anarchy of the late 20th century: replacing the oppressive forces ofcommunism and capitalism with a transglobal movement dedicated to total freedom of expression. The Brain believes in the power ofthe planet and in the construction of a new map without boundaries. Following a second euphoric happening in Iceland. the Brain is now winging its way around the globe. following the ancient ley lines and power spots to Edinburgh. Bury any preconceptions move your bodies. open your minds‘. Communique ends.

Something strange is happening this year. Britain‘s clubs are on the move refusing to be limited by the confines ofstate. usurping the concept of nationalism organising trips across Europe in search of the rave.

Forced out of this country. they are '

travelling to others: Austria. Holland. Spain. Italy. forging links on the dancelloors of the world with other like-minded hedonists.

There is a new energy at work. bringing about an enforced end to British insularity. persuading clubbers to look to Bristol. Berlin. Belgrade. instead of the urban dirt sprawl that is London.

And as long as dancing is perceived

as dangerous. as long as party promoters receive longer sentences than child molesters. as long as the

battle of HM Government v Acid House continues. Euro-clubbing seems set to dominate the scene.

United by an attitude. Scotland has not maintained its isolated stance although legal. licensed all-night clubs render the warehouse scene invalid here; last September four organisers were charged with broadcasting ‘sounds known as acid house music and speech in the open air at an excessive volume‘.

Style magazines like The Face may try to rationalize the resulting foreign odysseys as a ‘celebration of common culture that stretches across the continent.‘ but ultimately the principle which governs promoters like The Brain Club‘s Sean McLusky and Mark Wigan is the aesthetic of pleasure. Ifgovernment legislation and illiberal licensing laws threaten to spoil the party. then the party just has to take place somewhere else. Hence Iceland.

The land ofthe midnight sun appears on first sighting a barren volcanic moonscape. utterly devoid ofgrowth. ‘Nothing to get in a lava about.‘ commented one London joker. ‘Do you think I paid £280 for a weekend on Peckham Industrial Estate'." enquired another comedian as the planeload of DJs. assorted PAs. club regulars. film crews and journalists filed through customs.

Iceland has a population half the size of Edinburgh. but twice as lunatic. Beer has been legal here for just one year. and although alcohol is regarded as liquid taxation. the youth of the country wholesome and healthy as a result of fish and fresh air seem to spend most of their time mindlessly drunk. Weekends are spent roaming the city streets. queueing to get into the overpriced pubs. fighting in popcorn shOps. barging into each other in the handful ofclubs.

‘What‘s on in Reykjavik'. a type of tourist board publication. promises that ‘although most foreigners find Icelanders fairly reserved. this can change drastically after a drink or

two.’ and it certainly seemed to be the case. Each live act. each record. brought about a rapturous response from the locals. who spent the weekend enjoying the atmosphere created by one of London‘s most exciting clubs. whilst the said club spent the weekend enjoying the attention oftheir universally gorgeous hosts.

In direct contrast to the Brain‘s last visit however. older locals seemed suspicious of the Stussy clothes and soundgear. The trip in April was timed to coincide with the final date ofthe Happy Mondays‘ European tour. and the band's notorious antics left the entire English contingent with an undeserved typical all-lads-together~abroad reputation.

As a result. we were followed around for the duration ofour stay by an Icelandic TV crew. who filmed every move from the ‘body‘ painting antics which left Reykjavik‘s main square liberally doused with emulsion. to the irreverent football match in Independence Park; both ofwhich harmless activities nearly led to arrests by shocked police. ()ur notoriety was further compounded by the closure of the Moon Club on the Friday night. and the subsequent withdrawal of their licence; an action which merely led the Brain to shift venues for the remainder of the stay, and Sean and Wigan to appear live on TV stating their aim of ‘peaceful anarchy without violence.‘

The rest of the weekend went well. although Saturday‘s visit to the geothermal Blue Lagoon did nearly result in an unexpected swim for the Def II team. complete with cameras, due to the consumption of too much Black Death vodka by one of the party.

In the Hollywood club later though, any animosities were forgotten as Mr Monday. one of the new breed of keyboard wizards. and Brain band lf'.’ played energetic sets whilst DJs Harvey and Glen Gunner filled the floor. After closing time hundreds congregated at a warehouse party in the city's sports centre. It was daylight outside the building. but inside Icelanders and British danced on together. until the final strains of the Sex I’istols‘ ‘Anarchy in the UK' echoed round the hall.

Driving back from Luton airport. through endless grey suburbia on a damp English morning. we heard across the airwaves news of hundreds ofarrests at a rave in the north. Then we remembered why we had gone. and why itinerant clubbing will continue.

I The Brain Playhouse Studio. lS—ZZ Greenside Place. starts thinking on 10 Aug. featuring three floors of upfront underground dance music seven nights a week. plus live acts and guest DJs including Soul II Soul and the Hacienda's Graeme Park. Sun—Thur l lpm—4am; Fri—Sat llpm—bam. Yo! future. Let'sall have a disco!

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