Up and down the country, party-goers (me) lament the deterioration of club nights and live music. A smaller subsection (again me) cries harder for the clutch of queer nights and venues, once a mainstay of our nation’s nightlife, that have become a distant memory.
But let us spare a moment for the surviving venues and events - and for those making a return.
Pioneering queer night Duckie began in 1995 at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern before briefly moving to The Eagle. After a four-year hiatus, it has now crossed the river in search of respite from what they described as “greedy, right-wing south London pub landlords”. It’s safe to say these clubbers are no strangers to reinvention, and their latest iteration - Duckie 7/11 in Stoke Newington - is nothing short of astonishing.
We hear the revelry from well down Amhurst Road, long before the squat spine of St Paul’s Church - the night’s unlikely venue - crests between two bushes. In a hollowed-out community hall, ‘door butches’ Libro and Tink wave us into a room flecked by disco ball squares and framed by a curtained stage.
We follow our noses - drawn in by the inviting smell of the vegan buffet - and find ourselves in a church nave. It is lit up pink and blue and complete with the usual ecclesiastical trappings - organ, altar, paintings of Mary and Jesus - with the addition of tables, weighed down with homemade treats.
Something about such a proudly queer event taking place in a church like this feels oh so wrong, but it doesn’t take long for us to relax and embrace this truly safe space. “I love this city”, I mouth to my partner while snarfling vegan sausage rolls and winking up at Mary’s beneficent smile.
The assembled crowd are creatures of such plumed beauty. Veteran bull dykes in leather with stern smiles; willowy sprites with flowing dark hair and serrated cheekbones; Lucy and Yak boiler suits and 80s polyester shirts clothe lithe youngsters. The crowd seems to have both nothing and everything in common. I would have shed a tear, were I not wearing such heavy makeup.
As people mill about and snack off the mismatched china plates, we sneak out for a quick vape in the church garden and graveyard. A bell positioned next to the proudly fluttering rainbow flag calls the queers into session, and cram into the event hall.
Azara is “the host doing the most” in a pink, bedazzled denim suit, giving the crowd a quick overview of Duckie’s values and history. The wandering, the reinvention, the aim. And before we know it, it’s time for a show.
Up first through the curtain is Midgitte Bardot with a saucy rendition of Frank Sinatra’s That’s Life. It is a ballsy start to an evening that keeps getting better.
Pink Suits are a performance art duo with three different pieces (all of which will soon be on at the Battersea Arts Centre). One cuts onions while the other bounces around the stage topless. Later, they both waltz while biting into an apple, this time bottomless (but panted). At one point, one of them is fully nude while the other cuts a cake on their tummy to the dulcet tones of Leonard Cohen and Blondie. It’s an interesting and thematic experience which causes me to spill hummus down my new fuchsia shirt.
Other acts include DHS (Duckie Homosexualist School/youth wing) in fishnet and black mesh, thrashing and ripping off wigs to Rosalía and Björk’s Berghain. Chiyo, the first trans Mr Gay UK, gets us all hot and heavy to a Prince mash up and striptease.
A towel is thrown up to Azara from her mother, with whom she riffs throughout the show. Give these two a podcast! Between acts, the likes of Little Cloud, Joe Egg and Stav B get us grooving with ska, dancehall and a smattering of cheesy pop.
The last act, Symoné, is a tangerine-clad showgirl who rollerblades in high heels around the tiny stage while hula hooping. The whole venue erupts into applause.
Duckie 7/11 is so named as the revelry has a strict end time of 11pm, and so out we trod into the cold. In a time when it’s easy to focus on doom and gloom, Duckie is a light in the dark. Queer priests, performance artists, dance prodigies, hes, shes, theys in every permutation and glorious colour - this queer prom reminds us that there is hope to be found in the most unlikely of places.
Mark the 16 May, 4 July and 31 October in your diaries if you want to attend their next shows. I will see you in the apse, although I will be avoiding the hummus this time.
Duckie 7/11
St Paul's Church West Hackney
182 Stoke Newington Road
N16 7UE
Book here.
