The 25th anniversay, 11th September 2004

Review of the night by Matt Bolton

It was Roy Castle who reminded us that 'Dedication' was what you need. Dean Parrish that it was 'Determination'. Displaying infinite measures of the two, the 100 Club hosts the longest running allnighter in the world. Not suprising then, that this marathon dance fest celebrating 25 years of soul should be one of the longest. We all thought Ady was heightening the suspense of our secret free 45 as the doors failed to open for 20 mins. Backdoor Kenny shattered that myth outside as he paraded up and down the queue with two copies of the previously unreleased Magicians (and the lush sounds of Wee Willie Walker) up his jumper like a wax baby.

Alas, the sound had gone again, but as the swarm finally trouped past Kolla to pick up their vinyl treat, Mick Smith was already knocking out the classics. The night was going to be a celebration of all things 6T's, from unreleased magic to quality oldies to the memories of those no longer with us. And it was with this in mind that the allstar line-up entertained us with a batch of the finest black music that has always been synonymous with the 100 Club.

By 11pm, the prickly atmosphere and heat were overwhelming. And it already felt like one of those notoriously busy ones at 3am. Full to capacity, the dancefloor was soon a seething mass of the enchanted and enlightened. The DJ's were seemingly unerring in their dancefloor choices. From Greg's blistering R'n'B 'for the London Mods', to Keb's unintelligible floorshattering (and opinion splitting), modern instrumentals, a whole kaleidoscope of obsessive tastes got their sugar.

After his showcase appearance at Cleethorpes last year, there could be no-one better to help us celebrate the passing of time and old friends like Dean Parrish. His on stage arrival to a full house of cheers and applause gave him the confidence he needed to perform superlatively. 'Determination' stomped, 'Bricks, Broken Bottles...' swayed us and I'm On My Way' simply floored his ecstatic audience. Twice.

Back it was then to the DJ's and it was to be the host himself who gave the most comprehensive reason for why his and Randy's dream had lasted 25 years. Ady's 45 minute set comprising of the acetates and unknowns from over the last two and a half decades cemented the reputation for which the basement has long been revered, envied and enjoyed. Little Ann, Nancy Wilcox, Maxine Brown, The Magicians, Luther Ingram, the list goes on. And they'll keep adding over the years.

As the night merged with the morning, the temperature became unbearable, Mick Smith bringing the room up past boiling point with a jawdropping spin of Marvin & Tammi's thrilling, 'Ain't No Mountain'.

After Dean, the night pretty much became a blur of both pounding and heart warming soul, old and new. Taking her place back behind the decks, Val wowed us with a set ten times better recieved than her 100 Club return at Ladies night. I'm positive Roger Stewart dropped Roy Roberts, Mick Smith showed us why Eric Lomax was such a necessary record in 2004 and Butch proved himself prize digger with his stack of unreleased metal plates. Ex-Capitol Captain, Irish Greg's choice of records included a Patti Austin killer that reminded us why his venue had shone so brightly in recent years.

Skip Mahoney's 'Janice' could have landed like a fish out of the 6T's water for Keb Darge, but the crowd just danced on, lapping up his Sharon Jones newies. Shifty injected a burst of latin with The Checkmates' 'Mastered The Art Of Love', recalling the 100 Club's South American invasion of the 80's. Thankfully we still managed to keep Mick Smith from returning to Peru. The last hour fell upon us with a packed dancefloor and a wedge of tracks which never fail to make us all weepy and nostalgic. Annabelle Fox, Martha Starr and ultimately, the death knell of the night, The Four Tops.

The night had been a joyous reminder of a quarter of a century of soul at the famous club. And as Walter Jackson serenaded a sweaty legion of followers towards Starbucks, there was a distinct belief that the night could, and should, go on forever. To infinity. And beyond.