A student’s guide to Warwick’s nightlife part two

Welcome back to our journey through Warwick’s numerous nights out. For those worried we’d somehow forgetten POP!, Smack, or Skool Dayz, rest easy, as we take you through the N-Z of the university’s nightlife.

Should you POP! till you drop, Neon like its friday, or go all the way to Birmingham? Read on to find out.

Neon: Steam, Jäger, and the abscence of hope by Martin Day

Somewhere south of the ninth circle of Hell, wedged like a pulsing cancer at the source of the diseased Kokytos, between the stinking, wretched cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, you will find the popular Leamington clubbing staple known as ‘Neon’. Students have been trapped in a weekly congregation here, like salmon migrating up the waste pipe of a power station, since time immemorial – surely there is no other reason why Warwick’s denizens would return here time and time again, against every conceivable lizard-brain instinct screaming at them to run.

The layout is anti-human, the scene a Kandinsky painting drawn under the influence of a high fever. Steam soaks the walls and pickles the mind like formaldehyde; if they tested the water dripping from the ceiling, it would conceivably come up positive for some form of primordial life. Everywhere are random chairs and steps – to move anywhere through the club is to stumble like a WWI soldier caught in the explosion of a mortar, clawing through writhing bodies, tumbling over debris. Half-known faces strobe past, melting into nothing if you turn to greet them.

Music bursts like an ulcer above a heaving mass of humanity, green and purple lights washing over you like an oil slick. You spend the whole time getting out of people’s way or pushing past them yourself

Should you fight your way to the main floor, your reward for descending deeper into the madness is an experience similar to how a fly must feel trapped inside an inflating balloon. Music bursts like an ulcer above a heaving mass of humanity, green and purple lights washing over you like an oil slick. You spend the whole time getting out of people’s way or pushing past them yourself. Your other options are a bar seemingly buried underneath a collapsed section of the building or a smoking area resembling a Soviet prison yard. So small is this alleyway, plucked straight out of the script of ‘Children of Men’, that on a bad day you are reduced to literally filing single file in a loop outside, like mourners shuffling past an open casket.

The clouds, one day, will surely break: the collective trauma bond students have developed with this aberration of a nightlife institution will fade like a scar, and as one, we will realise we all should have just gone to Kasbah instead. Until then, however, the one positive is that so widespread is this delusion that upon passing the threshold of Leamington’s worst club, you will run into literally every single person you know. So there’s that.

A paean to POP! by Ben Tanguy

You can’t talk about Warwick nightlife without mentioning our very own club night POP!, a staple of University culture for freshers and world-weary final years alike. Capable of offering the full clubbing experience from the crushing lows of Baywatch to the exhilarating highs of ‘Mr Brightside’, POP! showcases the finest that white girl pop has to offer, overseen by the dulcet tones and convincing mullet of Disco Dave. It’s got an exclamation mark for a reason, whether that be for the impending sense of panic when you realise you’ve sunk £50 on shots or for the euphoria (no pun intended) you feel at the opening notes of ‘Angels’. There’s also no need to regret missing a week, given that the playlist will inevitably be exactly the same, while on days with sub-optimal attendance, you can treat yourself to what is essentially a private gig with Disco Dave. Who could ask for more?

It’s a testament to the power of POP! that despite losing my phone and dropping two Jägers on the floor last week, I’m still going back for more

Particularly avid fans can, of course, buy the POP! pass, priced at a mere £52 – which is coincidentally the same as Stagecoach’s UniRider pass, although, unlike the U1, in the Copper Rooms, it is socially acceptable to drink. It’s a testament to the power of POP! that despite losing my phone and dropping two Jägers on the floor last week, I’m still going back for more. Firing off tweets at #warwickpop to request songs, name and shame sharking friends, or more realistically to hit on Disco Dave just doesn’t get old. Indeed, several POP! goers pointed to Dave as their highlight, describing him as “a true sex symbol” and suggesting that he “has irreparably shaped who I am as a person”. One fan told The Boar that “I’ve come here every week and just been very, very sad, basically” – a truly ringing endorsement.

Above all, you can’t beat the convenience of walking straight into POP! after circling, assuming you haven’t been subjected to Assembly or, God forbid, Kelsey’s. No wonder the clarion call “POP! tonight?” remains irresistible.

Stop and smell the Rosies by Emily Cornish

Rosies in Birmingham is an experience that only a minority of Warwick students can say they’ve had. Is it because it’s simply too far to travel for a club or because of the fear of getting burned by a sparkler sticking out of a prosecco bottle? Possibly, it’s just the intimidating presence of the Birmingham university students.

To question why one wouldn’t go to Rosies, you also need to question why one would go to Rosies. There is the appeal of free tacky light sticks, it being the only club in our vicinity open on a Thursday for those ambitious Warwick Week contenders, and perhaps there’s something exciting about nearly losing your eye to a sparkling bottle making its way to the VIP booths.

We arrived around 11pm, which was apparently far too early, as it was completely empty. In an attempt to make the most of our tragic situation, we fell victim to overpriced Jägerbombs and took it upon ourselves to explore the different rooms

My Rosies experience was brought about because a friend’s friend was visiting, and culminated in us hiding in its bathroom, essentially summing up your basic night out in Birmingham, where it’s never your choice, and you end up locking yourself in a cubicle to escape angry locals.

We arrived around 11pm, which was apparently far too early, as it was completely empty. In an attempt to make the most of our tragic situation, we fell victim to overpriced Jägerbombs and took it upon ourselves to explore the different rooms. Once the club filled, it wasn’t horrible; although, one interaction saw me encouraged to cheat on my boyfriend in response to an initial rejection. I must admire the sheer audacity, but in the end, it wasn’t for me. Rosies, you may be an experience I don’t plan on revisiting, but you gave me a ridiculous light stick and did help me complete the Warwick Week, and for that, you have my respect.

Skool Dayz from the heart by Bryn Baber-Day

Falling upon the second and eighth Saturday of each term, Skool Dayz offers the truly committed Warwick cultural enthusiasts a second weekly opportunity to launch themselves into the institutions of the Copper Rooms that grant the venue such preeminence: purple, circle, and Disco Dave-led clubbing. All of this, however, comes with a profound twist: the attire is themed around school uniforms. This is notable because it allows Skool Dayz to detach from circle normativity, providing each attendant with a set theme upon arrival. Many within the scholarship view this as deeply controversial, connoting dangerous undertones with a university club night that asks its guests to don a school uniform.

However, it is my contention that Skool Dayz needs to be removed from this ever-so-slightly concerning aspect and understood in structural terms: the appeal lies not with the wear of the circlers, but with the seminal placement of the event on a Saturday. There is no looming fear of a 9am seminar, nor the concern of rushing for a bus to campus. The only thing that ever lingers in my mind while sipping a pint of ‘purp’ is whether I will wake up in time to do my weekly shop, given Sunday trading laws. Skool Dayz appeals to me, and many others, simply because it offers a less constraining Copper Rooms experience. Although I wear my school tie with minimal pride, I would be completely on board with the SU if they were to change this theme to something slightly less malignant. Nevertheless, a twice-termly Saturday circling event is always going to appeal.

When I graduate, one of the many things I will miss about ‘getting involved’ at Warwick will be a Saturday night ‘under the lights’ circling event. Alas, due to the acute weirdness of the theme, I will certainly not be returning once I depart in Term 3

One thing I find enthralling about Skool Dayz is the energy of a circle. As a former social secretary for Warwick Athletics, I find that Skool Dayz circles become the archetypal Warwick circle. Their Saturday placement, coupled with being far less frequent than POP!, provides ebullient energy that cannot necessarily be encapsulated on a Wednesday. If you will indulge me for a moment, I would like to offer my own example:

In Term 3 of my first year, I stepped up to the plate at Skool Dayz to lead my second ever circle as social secretary. I was joined by the enigmatic Lewis Day, a two-time social secretary and known BNOC. As I write this in my third year, I can confidently say that this was the finest hour(s) for myself and Mr Day. The circle became an orchestra of sound, with every game (from 20+1 to Zummy Zummy) echoing through the halls of the Copper Rooms like a glorious concert. This was a fine circle in its own right, but the mere fact that it fell upon a Saturday speaks to the appeal of Skool Dayz and the energy it provides. When I graduate, one of the many things I will miss about ‘getting involved’ at Warwick will be a Saturday night ‘under the lights’ circling event. Alas, due to the acute weirdness of the theme, I will certainly not be returning once I depart in Term 3.

You go back to her, and I go back to Smack by Lauryn West and Mary Murton

Despite, at the current time of writing, being criminally hungover after a heavy night in Moo, it is our firm belief that Smack is the true best club in Leam. Yes, there are many things to criticise: the high probability of tripping over an oddly placed step, the incredibly cramped main room and the rap room that’s never open, and the fact that the DJ is allergic to playing any songs not already on his playlist, which he seems to not have updated in years. Not to mention that the prices of both entry and drinks have recently sharply risen. However, it is possible that the true beauty of Smack lies precisely within these various flaws.

As the only club open on a Tuesday, you’re guaranteed to run into practically every person you’ve ever encountered at Warwick

The aforementioned weird step provides ample opportunity for entertainment if you position yourself so you can watch everyone else trip on it as they come through the door. Though the main room is small, we prefer to think of it as cosy, and the rap room being frequently closed is hardly a loss – why would you want to descend into that hellhole anyway? Although the DJ may not be the best, there’s a certain beauty in knowing what songs you’ll hear every night – and he did once take our request to play Troye Sivan.

As the only club open on a Tuesday, you’re guaranteed to run into practically every person you’ve ever encountered at Warwick. The bouncers, should you take the time to get to know them, are lovely, and if you manage to avoid falling into the ominous puddle in the middle of the smoking area, it’s quite spacious. And is a far cry from the Victorian-esque soaking wet slum at the back of Neon. The psychedelic decor in the entrance is a fantastic start to the comforting weekly ritual of necking vodka Redbulls and screaming Titanium. Though we can’t promise exactly how your next night in Smack will turn out, it’s guaranteed to be incredibly entertaining.

The Snobs Mentality by Amelia Farmer

If you fancy gatecrashing a Birmingham student club night for a change, then Snobs could be the place for you! Take a break from the conventional pop classics and venture into a realm of indie and alternative, dancing the night away to the likes of the Arctic Monkeys and The Killers. Located on Birmingham’s infamous Broad Street, Snobs lies within the beating heart of Birmingham (if it even has one!), lending itself nicely to predrinks at the local Wetherspoons, which is guaranteed not to break the bank.

The unwritten rules of Warwick student nightlife dictate that we should be crammed into Neon like sardines or paying astronomical drink prices in Moo masked under the guise of its cheap entry fees. However, I implore you to open your eyes and embark on a pilgrimage to Snobs to pay homage to the indie greats.

Although Kasbah’s smoking area is impossible to rival, Snobs puts up a fair fight

Rehab Friday, tried and trusted by yours truly, stretches across multiple genres, including indie, garage rock, alt-pop, and R&B, creating a sort of musical whiplash that keeps you anchored to the dance floor. Loaded Saturdays offer a similar kind of chaos. Having run every Saturday night since 1972, Snobs’ three rooms remain eternally full from midnight onwards, providing shelter to those roaming the streets, desperate to drown out the persistent sound of ‘Reem’ and ‘Starships’ (sorry Nicki) echoing from the surrounding clubs. Although Kasbah’s smoking area is impossible to rival, Snobs puts up a fair fight. Located in front of the club on Broad Street itself, it has plenty of room to converse with strangers that you will probably never see again in your life, and allows for a short time-out from the raging crowd inside.

Lastly, for my final pitch, I leave you with this. Snobs has drink prices that would make any Leam local look at their nearby pubs and sigh, such as £4 spirits and mixers alongside £3 Jägerbombs. Therefore, Snobs is certainly worth the trek for any indie music lover, or simply those wishing to take a break from the tiresome cycle of Warwick nightlife.