Since starting the promotion of Spirit, the unmissable monthly shindig hosted by Niki and Kaya at the Clinic (okay, nuff plugs), I’ve found myself meeting increasing difficulty explaining the concept of the night to the lay punters who dominate the Soho scene and, quite frankly, wouldn’t know their ‘Sound of Philedelphia’ from their ‘Sound of the Suburbs’ (cracking post-punk pop 3 minutes though that may be).  What has dawned on me is the realisation that to far too many in the wide world out there, ‘soul’ is a term disappearing from the popular clubland psyche.  Is there a threat to our heritage?

There was a time when this kind of terminology was unproblematic.  Those of us who subscribed to the sound of black America in UK clubs were united under the banner of soul and it was this movement that made UK club culture what it is today.  Whether we’re talking about the industry movers of today who all earned their apprentiships on the scene or whether we want to look at origins of the 24 hour party people mentality that defines the post-Acid House UK club landscape, we’ll always end up at the beginning.  And the beginning was soul.

However, while the UK’s DJ and club media obsessively trawls over the histories of Levan, Mancuso, Bevans and the NYC golden years of the mid-70s to mid-80s, it seems that along the way a whole slice of our own club heritage is disappearing from contemporary clubland’s collective memory.  While the painfully hip cling to every word from DJ custodians of the true faith across the pond, what is happening to the legacy of our own pioneers like Chris Hill, Tom Holland and the original Soul Mafia?  Why are The Goldmine or Highland Rooms not revered in the same hushed tones as the Paradise Garage or the Loft?   Why was it so necessary for me as a promoter at times to have to explain to people what the soundtrack of our club would be? I mean its f***ing soul music, innit.

Occasionally we see sporadic ‘Northern Soul’ references.  Often these days these references are employed by ill-informed wannabee promoters to up the eclectic/kitsch/cool factor on their flyers (while playing nothing that comes close to what the rare soul cognoscenti would define as ‘northern’) or they become name checked by recording artists who claimed to have always been into that scene after sampling dodgy scooter boy anthems (stand up Norman “Slice Tomatoes” Cook).  And then there’s the 80s soulboy chic that gets picked up by the eternally feckless, witless and unthinking fashionistas on occasion, even though these same cynical and clueless f***wits were keen to dismiss the ugly prole masses from Essex with their white socks and Escort Mark 3s at the time, preferring instead contrived and ludicrous fly by night nonsense such as ‘buffalo style’ and the likes.  The mainstream record industry has also got in on the game with the “Best 80s Soul Weekender Album in the World Ever, No Honestly” or whatever its called (it was always going to happen).  Sadly, it seems that a rich and important vein of UK club and social history is being forgotten or, worse perhaps, misrepresented by people who have no idea of its relevance, scope and glorious past.

Happily though, this is not an inevitable process.  The true followers of the faith have remained with the scene through thick and thin.  DJs like Terry Jones, with his legendary Norfolk Village nights, Richard Searling with his radio shows in the north west, the ever present rare/northern soul scene (the real thing that is, represented by nights like Ade Croasdell’s 100 Club sessions) and the on-going weekenders at Caister and Southport that provide a living link to the legacies of the past have all kept the soulboy flag flying throughout.  It is into this living heritage that nights like Chocolate Soul run down in Hoxton and, of course, our very own Spirit nights in Chinatown are tapping.

That’s not to say, though, that we should be overly concerned about retro.  The important thing about our scene is that we join the dots between the music.  To the DJs at Spirit, a Masters at Work production sits happily next to Lamont Dozier, say, because we see the music as an ongoing saga.  It’s a rich cultural tradition, not to be pigeonholed and saddled with ludicrous terminology by some Mixmag journalist.  And this is the real challenge for those of us looking to preserve ‘what is ours’.  First, make sure that the scene is kept fresh by seeking out the current releases that ‘belong’ to our tradition, always moving forward.  Second, ensure that the heritage of the scene is acknowledged, referred to and made relevant to today’s DJ and club community.  The first task is made easy by the continuing quality of so much great music released day in, day out.  The latter task is where the responsibility lies on our shoulders, its ‘our calling’ and we’re f***ed if we aint gonna try !