Last Week I saw Something For Kate at the Metro. The show was very good, everyone enjoyed themselves. But inside me I felt unsettled. I had a feeling that the whole thing was just wrong.
I have been to the Metro many times in the past, and always it was for a dance party. I spent many happy hours in that place, so much time that I had a feeling that this place was something that I owned, something that was a part of me. I knew every inch of the place, I knew the people that I would find there.
This is no longer true. The Metro that I was in last week was an alien place, superficially similar to the place of my memories, but substantially different. It wasn’t just the refurbishments; it was the whole vibe of the place. The walls were plastered with band posters. The thick curtains had been replaced with clean modern walls. The people were all unfamiliar, and of an unfamiliar type. They were band people, not party people. Can you imagine what is was like standing at the back of the Metro looking down at a sea of denim? No colours. No scantily-clad girls. No lasers. No dancing. Everyone facing forward, perhaps swaying a bit.
This isn’t a mid-life crisis where I want to relive the glories of the past. Of course sometimes I do miss those days, but I am happier now than I was then and would not go back. Deep inside me will always live that love for the dancefloor, for the party. Returning to the Metro just reminded me of that.