Another guest blog post – this time taken from an email from James Stout all the way from the deep mines in Australia – news of the exhibition is literally travelling the world.
Hi there just quick email to say well done on bringing back the happy days memories. A few of us here in Oz working far away in the mines are watching closely your page and every few days when the post come up it’s all we talk about for days… Daycent, boiiiiii…
Back in the days of Henrys we moulded our lives around the weekend ‘cause it was time for Henrys and my god if the Sweats were on or a daycent foreign DJ – like Carl Cox or Laurent Garnier – the whole society or as we call it ‘the Henrys family’ would be buzzing. From the Monday morning going into work, still bate from the weekend, and the cassette tapes of recordings from previous Sweats blaring away all we think about was “What’s the score Saturday night boys, haaa?”
So Saturday night comes upon us out with the white jeans, the hi vis vest, or the trendy dungarees and away you go to one of the old haunts to just have your few scoops – not too many ‘cause you need your wits about you to dance. Then time for the big show – Henrys’ doors open and a stream of white-jeaned, baseball-capped, naffe-jacketed herd of Sweat addicts make their way in to escape to that other world of music friends and total ecstasy. Off up the stairs after having the banter with Sean legs and other doormen… Get up the stairs and the smell would get your heart racing… Off into the jacks, strip down into the get up, put all the gear into your little ruck sack, and off out to resume your regular position, shaking hands with everyone you have come to know from there. Pints of water stacked on the bar and BANG the tunes are pumping (Ball and Chain) and the sweat begins and continues through out the night… Sirens, whistles and climax tunes get the whole crowd bouncing to the same beat. UNREAL. Boom boom boom ohhh ohhh the chants continue, hugs, kisses, loads of ‘I love yous’ handed out everywhere and the night is coming to an end so the chatter begins “Boys where’s the gaff tonight?” or “Any parties happenin’ somewhere?”