Will’s Word On Warwick: Meditations on Kasbah

Opinion Comedy Column

‘“What is a ‘Kasbah’? What do we mean by ‘meditate’? What is a word? Why do we breathe? These are almost all questions, but the biggest questions of all must be asked of Kasbah?”

                              -Søren Kierkegaard, 1855’

                                  – Will Moores, recently

Kasbah is a club in central Coventry, but it’s also so much more than that. Formerly named the Colosseum, Kasbah — meaning ‘North African citadel’ — is rivalled only by Warwick Castle as the foremost historic fortress in the region. From its world-class smoking area to its enormous upstairs that may or may not double as the set of Love Island, Kasbah remains a significant cultural outpost nestled in the beating, if malfunctioning, heart of the UK’s City of Culture for 2021.

Making up the final part of Warwick’s holy clubbing trinity (a powerful triumvirate completed by such names as Smack and Neon), Kasbah is, in my opinion, the best club we’ve got, which isn’t saying much but is certainly saying something. So, pull up a preferably spherical chair, and have a relaxing sit back as I reflect on this powerful place, query its unique approach, and explore the many ways one can mock the Kasbah.

Voted the seventh most tragic night out in 2017 by a bunch of presumed morons, who wouldn’t know a premier Coventry club if it mugged them, Kasbah’s owner ultimately wore this placement like a badge of honour

How better to begin than by discussing the club’s ridiculous entry system? The insane process of paying on card, then receiving the equivalent in cash, and then handing half of it to another Kasbah employee one metre away, only to inevitably give it back to them ten minutes later at the bar, is deeply baffling. It feels like you’re doing their money laundering for them, as part of some dubious, mafia-esque attempt to distance the ownership from any accusations of financial malpractice. Whether Kasbah has any connections to the Italian mob is hard to say. Although the highly dynamic, Mediterranean gentleman bouncer at the door would certainly not be remiss on the set of Goodfellas.

However, any potential wrongdoing and alleged gangster connections are immediately offset by the immense moral good that comes with the £1.50 Jägerbombs. In fact, I’m reliably informed by some guy I met at Kasbah once that this exceptional price point once facilitated the ordering of a record 250 Jägerbombs in one go by a single person. (Unfortunately, the financial and physical aftermath of this, alongside its credibility as a story, remains unknown to me.)

Voted the seventh most tragic night out in 2017 by a bunch of presumed morons, who wouldn’t know a premier Coventry club if it mugged them, Kasbah’s owner ultimately wore this placement like a badge of honour, seeing it as the effective publicity, good or bad, that it inevitably was. Notably, Kasbah’s dubious, though successful, publicity has been a trademark aspect of its marketing for years, from potentially baseless claims of a Trump lawsuit to their questionable plan to host the Baby Reindeer stalker for a special guest appearance, the club is no stranger to possibly fabricated and undeniably divisive publicity moves.

A key aspect of the Kasbah experience is bonding with or briefly beefing Coventry University students in the wild, allowing you to put your Warwick superiority complex into real-world practice

Kasbah has become famous for its themed giveaway nights, which seem to last about 10 minutes in one of the rooms, at an undisclosed time, helping to increase the odds of you missing it entirely. These giveaways feel like a dystopian future where food, adult toys, and novelty products are the only currency left to barter with, as hundreds flock for a chance to be hit in the head with anything from a McDonald’s chicken nugget to a pair of sunglasses that say Kasbah on them.

Another important part of the Kasbah experience is bumping into everyone you’ve ever met in the enormous smoking area, a place which essentially plays as an extensive who’s who of people you follow on Instagram.

Unfortunately, moving to Leamington may somewhat kill the Kasbah experience, due to the added distance and the loss of the unifying fever dream that is the bus ride there. Notably, however, there is a more challenging route to Kasbah available, as it is the final destination of WUAXC’s famous Pubjog, a nine-pub bar crawl/run from campus to Kasbah. The club kindly offers itself as a safe space to either prepare for or significantly intensify the worst hangover of your life.

Kasbah has been entertaining the people of Coventry in some form or another since 1914

A key aspect of Kasbah is bonding with or briefly beefing Coventry University students in the wild, allowing you to put your Warwick superiority complex into real-world practice as you try not to mock them and validate every Warwick stereotype they’ve ever envisioned.

Amazingly, Kasbah has been entertaining the people of Coventry in some form or another since 1914, seeing off two world wars, multiple moon landings, and even Warwick Grapevine!

While you may drown in the queue, get knocked unconscious by a Gregg’s sausage roll, or overdose on Jägerbombs, these risks pale in comparison to those that come with any amount of time spent in Assembly or Moo. So, why not bump into every person you’ve ever met, see the baffling fish tanks, and meet the potential mafioso heading up security (who has tremendous energy, so it’s probably fine) by getting yourself to Kasbah. It’s Coventry’s – and Warwick’s – premier clubbing experience.

Will’s Word On Warwick is a satirical column intended for comedic purposes only.