When
the first Unit club opened in Hamburg in 1989, it was embraced as an
alternative to other places that ran on tighter curfews and were
often in less central locations. Unlike Front, the pioneering club
that introduced house music to Germany—and arguably continental
dance floors—, the first Unit at Talstrasse was right in the middle
of one of one of Europe’s biggest entertainment areas, notorious red
light district around Reeperbahn, and because of this its parties
could last longer.
At
first, the music at Unit was no different to what was played
elsewhere around town—a typical post-acid house boom mix. Soon
though, the resident DJs like Gary D, Tobias Lampe and Henry, and the
booked national and international guest DJs, shifted towards techno
and later trance, and Unit became a leading light in establishing and
pushing these sounds further alongside other national mainstays in
Berlin and Frankfurt.
The
first Unit space had to close in 1994 due to increased crime in the
area, but it reopened the same year as Unit II in a temporary
location also close to Reeperbahn, before Unit III settled in an old
factory space in another district. But as the club grew bigger in
size and ambition, the crowds did not follow suit, and Unit closed
for good in 1999. We asked DJ Tobias Lampe for a list of records that
made the first Unit incarnation and his and Henry’s residency,
called Pure Energy, such a lasting memory.
A
Homeboy, A Hippie & A Funki Dredd, “Total Confusion (Heavenly
Mix)” (Tam Tam Records 1990)
“This
is one of the early anthems at the club, which I think was also
already heavily played by the first Unit DJs Pari D and Double UMF.
The early years were actually very open minded. They played a mixture
of house, hip hop, techno, even downtempo beats and a style called
hip house. And it mirrors pretty much how it was working in the UK as
well, this period when nobody at the rave had bad feelings about
having 808 State, Snap, Frankie Bones, Orbital and Guru Josh all on
the same stage.”
Foremost
Poets, “Extended Sight Version (Foresight Version)” (Nu Groove
1990)
“I
guess I first heard this magic piece when Boris Dlugosch played it at
the Front club. Hard to explain why, but it certainly always created
this magical, intense atmosphere, both at Front and at Pure Energy on
Fridays, where Henry and me played this track nearly every week. Few
other tracks can capture the feeling of the time so intensely—back
then it was led by house and techno music from London, New York City,
Chicago and Detroit. Front club was immensely influential, as well as
the Friday shopping trip to the Container Records store, which
imported all the music directly. As Boris Dlugosch played less and
less techno at Front, we tried to play and represent all facets of it
at Pure Energy, and especially techno from Detroit.”
Mental
Mayhem, “Joey’s Riot” (Atmosphere Records 1990)
“Particularly
in New York City, labels like Nu Groove and others were releasing
music that sounded like both house and techno. We celebrated exactly
these hybrid sounds and in hindsight this may have been what Hamburg
was always about. Always open-minded and somehow in between. We were
obviously trying out all kinds of sounds at that time. We played
pretty hard banging techno and early trance, but at the core of what
we played was always what we called tech-house. This prime goose bump
example of the tech-house sound we loved was produced by Joey
Beltram, who for us was one of the leading New York producers in this
field.”
Format,
“Solid Session” (ESP Records 1991)
“This
Orlando Voorn one was a what we called a Voll-Brett.
Brett means plank, it’s a term used for particularly efficient
floor fillers—we adopted this language from the Frankfurt scene.
It’s a sure shot that always makes happy faces in the club. It was
one of the obvious anthems, at least for our nights.”
The
Hypnotist, “Pioneers Of The Warped Groove” (Rising High 1991)
“We
organized bus trips from Hamburg to the first Mayday festival and
Love Parades. I still remember we spent three days setting up the
first Break The Limits Rave at Kasematten/Deichtorhallen in Hamburg,
and after we were done partying, we took down everything and then
headed towards Berlin for Mayday in a bus packed with Hamburg ravers.
Henry
and I were so exhausted that we had to cancel our Pure Energy gig
there, and instead we partied on as best as we still could. And then,
at some point, The Hypnotist got on stage, and they threw hundreds of
green glow sticks into the crowd. The lights and fog did the rest.
The
scenery at Halle Weissensee was magical, and then the music came on.
It simply blew me away how many musical influences they could bring
together. Trance was not a musical term for us then, but if you apply
it to a state of mind The Hypnotist probably was the act that nailed
it down best, particularly at that gig. Of course, we couldn’t help
it, and felt the urge to celebrate these tracks at Unit, ideally from
4 a.m. onwards.”
Ramirez,
“La Musika Tremenda (La Tormenta Mix)” (DFC 1991)
“Ramirez
produced at least two masterpieces of early tech-trance (which is
what we later called this style), and this is one of them. I do not
know how to describe it precisely, but the track had this subliminal
dirty touch, and when I hear it, I will forever think of
sweat-drenched ravers, flickering strobe lights, thick fog and the
experience of walking out into broad daylight after partying. This
track was always the one to mobilize the last reserves.”
Golden
Girls, “Kinetic (Frank De Wulf Remix)” (R&S Records 1992)
“In
this list, I’m also trying to illustrate how a lot of different
scenes and circles from different parts of the world created this
magical universe of sound we enjoyed at that time. This is a perfect
example of the influence of the Belgian sound. I still think that
Belgian and Dutch music’s influence has always been under rated.
This one was a huge and surefire banger at Unit.”
Vainqueur,
“Lyot (Maurizio Mix)” (Maurizio 1992)
“This
track is emblematic of the influences of Berlin and Detroit to our
sound. The Berlin/Detroit axis was in early progress at that time,
and we took pilgrimages to Berlin to find this sound at Hard Wax and
Delirium. We partied to it at Tresor, Teknozid and Planet, but also
at Hamburg’s Front club, before the first Unit opened. For us,
Basic Channel’s discography offered the first serious releases from
Berlin, even in terms of techno. I think we also believed Maurizio
was someone from Detroit. The minimalistic, dubbed out and darker
aspects of techno, tinged with some references to EBM, played an
important role at Unit. Actually my first night at Unit was on a
Wednesday and it was called Tekkno Club, with two k, of course. It
was more dedicated to EBM, Dark Wave and Acid, and then it opened up
to the influences from over the pond, UK, Berlin and Frankfurt.
Vapourspace,
“Gravitational Arch Of 10” (Plus 8 Records 1993)
“I
cannot recall where I first heard this, but I remember how blown away
I was. Since then, I wanted to share this feeling, and it was played
at least twice a night. I also remember we played around with
switching out the lights out and blasting the fog machine before the
kick drum came in, and it always led to incredible screams from the
dance floor. Not much later, Henry and I promoted the Plus 8 night
with Vapourspace live alongside DJ sets by Richie Hawtin and John
Acquaviva. We were pretty amazed by his analogue live set
extravaganza.”
Marmion,
“Schöneberg“ (Superstition 1993)
“Henry and I were doing the Pure Energy night every Friday at Unit. We hosted probably all the relevant names at that time, from Derrick May to Sven Väth. It was such a small scene in a few German cities in those days that we all felt a bit like family. Early friends from our rave travels to Berlin, Frankfurt and Munich were, for example, Mijk van Dijk and Marcos Lopez, who gave me this Berlin production as a demo a few days after a gig at Unit. This EP and track actually became one of the milestones of Superstition Recordings, the label I just had founded three releases ago. Especially this fourth release earned the label and both producers a huge international following. And the track is what I call a perfect combination of house and techno elements; it’s a real techno house classic.
The people of Hamburg rarely boast about their achievements, which is why you probably do not know about the club this compilation is about. But you should know about it. The club was called Front, and it lasted from 1983 to 1997, which in itself is quite an achievement. But what happened there in those years is the real treat.
Hamburg in the 1980s had a vibrant nightlife. Mod, soul and (post) punk culture had seemingly always been covered by numerous record stores, live and dance venues, such was the diversity of styles after disco collapsed in on itself when its boom was over at the end of the 1970s. A lot of people say that this was the time when things got really interesting in terms of music, and they are probably right. Klaus Stockhausen definitely knew that. He started DJing in 1977, in clubs in Cologne, Frankfurt and Amsterdam, and had already reached considerable status when Willi Prange and his partner Phillip Clarke opened Front six years later. They were very keen on laying the focus on quality dance music at their club. They knew about Stockhausen and had been travelling to Cologne frequently to hear him play. And when he happened to visit Front by chance in early 1983, Prange recognized him, fell onto his knees and asked him to become the resident DJ. Stockhausen accepted.
His new workplace offered few distractions from the music. It was located in the basement of a high-rise building owned by Leder-Schüler, a leather manufacturing company, in a rather nondescript business district near the Berliner Tor station, away from the traditional entertainment hotspots near the harbour. But in its early years Front was a strictly gay club, and its clientele made no little effort to enjoy the experience, doubtless content that the straight crowds amusing themselves elsewhere across town were shying away from it. The rooms were raw, with low ceilings and bare walls, and through a long corridor you could either descend further into a bar area, or turn right to the dance floor, which was surrounded by low platforms with railings. The quadrophonic sound system was not exactly an audiophile’s dream, but it was very efficient, and very loud. The light-show consisted simply of strobes and multicoloured fluorescent tubes, lighting up the dark at mysterious intervals, and an illuminated sign reading “Danger”. But the boldest statement was that you could not see the DJ. The booth in the corner was completely secluded, leaving the DJ to check the intensity level through some tiny portholes or, more commonly, by gauging the sheer volume of screaming on the floor (thankfully there was plenty of that). It is still unclear what led the Front owners to build the booth in that way, but it was there right from the beginning, and both the DJs and the dancers appreciated it. It meant that the music unfolded like some force from somewhere else, and it was more important than anything else in the room. Of course you can only make this setup work if you know your crowd exceptionally well and, in return, if your crowd trusts you blindly. And the music was much better than good enough, keeping the attention of revellers throughout the night.
Klaus Stockhausen got to know his crowd very well indeed. Being a resident in those days meant that he played every night from Tuesday to Sunday, for eight to nine hours that he programmed more like a rollercoaster, in terms of tempo and intensity, than a constant peak time. He loved it. He had enough time to test new records and develop a sound that fitted the location and educated the crowd perfectly. Sure, old and new disco and other subsequent sounds as synthpop, electro, freestyle, boogie, hi-NRG and italo where played by other DJs in other clubs around town, but they were not played in the same manner as they were at Front. Klaus Stockhausen had unique mixing skills, with an unerring and adventurous taste, and he worked according to his own intuition, which soon made the Front experience incomparable to other places. He had a preference for edgier, more dynamic dub and instrumental versions and utilized scratching, a capellas and sound effects (the tractor sound bookending the mixes of this compilation being a prime example), and, generally, even if you knew some of the records, at Front they never sounded like you remembered. And they were all played in a way that was so coherent that every further development to the sound palette of the time was immediately sucked into the sound of Front. Thus, from 1984 on, when well selected local stores like Tractor and later Rocco and Container Records started stocking the first house music imports, it did not feel like a major change to proceedings; it felt like an addendum.
But still, after a transitional period, the house sound gained momentum. Around the same time, Klaus Stockhausen started to have a second, equally successful, career as a stylist and fashion editor and, never having been interested in the techno craze or the cult of personality that was beginning to emerge around DJs, he felt it was time to cut down on playing out. Thankfully another, equally talented DJ appeared on the scene with whom he shared the residency until he finally quit in 1992 to concentrate fully on his work in fashion.
In 1984, at the age of 16, Boris Dlugosch educated himself on cassette live recordings from the club and began practicing his own skill set. In 1986 he handed in a demo tape and was rewarded with the job, which, of course, really says something. And soon it became obvious that he could fill the shoes of his predecessor and mentor, even though Klaus Stockhausen had shaped the needs of the Front crowd for such a long time. It certainly helped, though, that the now-dominating house music was evolving so quickly, and that the Front DJs had easy access to the newest releases. But after the early sounds from Chicago had morphed into acid house in the late 1980s, the stylistic variety for which the club was so cherished seemed to be at risk, and the Front residents decided to keep any potential conformity at bay. So when techno established itself in 1990/91, Front did not give in to the desire for harder and steadier beats but instead embraced the machine funk of Detroit, the freestyle hybrids from New York City, and sounds emanating from the UK (the latter also helped by the anglophile tradition of Hamburg’s club culture, the proximity of which had always led to a healthy exchange of ideas taking place either side of the North Sea). Still, techno was increasingly defining itself in terms of harder and faster and, in the process, it lost its groove. Thus, Boris Dlugosch switched the mode nearly overnight to garage and deep house, and mixed these sounds to such new heights that the typical Front floor dynamics were never lost, they just sounded different. The reputation of Hamburg as national and international hub for house music has its origins right there. House had been played at Front since 1984, so it was one the first clubs outside of the US to feature it, but now it was also defining it. And it was opening up. The door policy was not strictly gay anymore, and guest DJs like Frankie Knuckles, DJ Pierre or the Murk Boys from the US were invited, often playing their first gigs abroad. Nevertheless the club was, in the main, ruled by its resident DJs, first and foremost Boris Dlugosch, but also Michi Lange and Michael Braune. They all defined the ‘90s at Front, as the club managed to uphold its wild hedonism, inventiveness and versatile approach for nearly another decade.
But it was also undeniable that nightlife was changing. More and more DJs entered the scene, and the identification with weekly residencies was fading. In Hamburg, as in any other local club scene, competition was soaring and increasingly crowds grew eager to catch a glimpse of the next big thing, something new, something unfamiliar (however great that was). And, feeling their club was growing apart from that with which they had once fallen in love, the original Front dancers were no longer as fiercely loyal. But pioneering is always easier than maintaining status quo, arguably better, and, true to its original spirit, the club closed its doors at a level that was still extraordinary. And it lives on – you can trace its legend in so many wonderful things.
It really is something to boast about. These mixes by Klaus and Boris in commemoration of Front are long overdue and they stay true to its legacy. Even if they represent but a tiny fraction of the whole picture, they still belong to that picture. And I hope you now want to know more.
Down in a raw basement near Hamburg‘s Berliner Tor station, Willi Prange and his partner Phillip Clarke opened the mostly gay oriented club Front in 1983. The majority of nights at Front were not played by guests, but by the main resident DJs Klaus Stockhausen and his successor Boris Dlugosch, who steered the club through the most cutting edge music the disco aftermath had to offer, until it eventually became one of the first clubs in Continental Europe to embrace house music and the styles that followed suit. The club’s intense nights were built on a wildly hedonistic and loyal crowd, a fierce quadrophonic sound system, a secluded DJ booth that seemed to antagonize the cult of personality of the years to come, and thus created a legacy that lasted well beyond the club’s closure in 1997. We asked Boris Dlugosch to guide us through the sound of the pivotal years of Front.
Shirley Lites – Heat You Up (West End, 1983)
This was one of my first lasting musical impressions at the club. Klaus Stockhausen played it nearly every Saturday then. It was more of an after hours record and it fitted perfectly.
Syncbeat – Music (Streetwave, 1984)
Klaus played this record when it came out, and when I started as a DJ in 1986 it had a small revival because I rediscovered it for myself. It was one of the most formative records for me. I did not know until then what this record was. I found it by chance in the club’s own record inventory. I loved this track very much and one day I could get a hold of it in a grab bag at Hamburg’s Tractor store for import records, where I was working at the time. Those bags were sealed and contained 10 records. I actually flicked through several other bags until I had two copies of it.
Connie – Funky Little Beat (Sunnyview, 1985)
This kind of Electro was the sound of Front from 1983 to 1984. I was not going to other clubs much, I was still too young and could not get in, but I heard this record on old tapes recorded live at the club (https://hearthis.at/front/). When I started going to Front from 1985 on this sound slowly faded away and was replaced by early house music.
Harlequin Four’s – Set it Off (Jus Born, 1985)
For me this was a quintessential Freestyle and Electro record. Klaus Stockhausen used to play it mostly as a break, often mixed with „Operattack“ by Grace Jones, or with space effects records. This and the Grace Jones album were milestones for my musical socialisation and they always worked on the floor.
Adonis – No Way Back (Trax, 1986)
This record and Farley Jackmaster Funk’s „Love Can’t Turn Around“ came out in 1986, shortly before I started playing at the club myself. At Front club changes in pace and style were elementary and the according setting was sometimes prepared over the course of hours, and sometimes just introduced by a quick break. House music brought along a different structure, and there was a steady beat for hours. At that time this was the defining new feature of the genre. Music was mixed seamlessly throughout the night at Front in all the years before, but with house music the rhythm became more homogeneous.
First thing Front club in Hamburg, what made the place magical and what made you follow Klaus Stockhausen, and his way of DJing?
There were different things falling into place then. I was always interested in club culture and music, but pre-internet you could mostly only read about legendary clubs and its resident DJs. When I first went to Front in 1987 I was 18 years old, and up to then I never heard a DJ who could really mix. Klaus Stockhausen played there since 1983, several times a week, and he had built up a very loyal crowd. The club itself was a raw basement, there was not much to distract from the music, apart from the hedonistic dancers. The place was very intense, and Stockhausen as well as his protegé and successor Boris Dlugosch were incredibly good. Of course you tend to be sentimental about times and places that intiated you into something, but I still have not experienced anything close, both in terms of clubs and DJing. Of course it also helped that those years saw very crucial developments in club music. When I started going there it was the end of that transitional period between Disco and House, which was extremely exciting. And in the following years I frequently went there that excitement persisted. Those were the blueprint years for everything we still dance to now, and I had the privilege to experience it right on the floor. And I learnt a lot of things that I still use.
How did you become part of Hard Wax, was it hard to get that job?
No. Seven years ago all my freelance activities and the according deadlines began to collide with being a father. My wife suggested some more steady work to complement and that I could ask for a job at the store, as I was a very regular customer anyway. Coincidentally Achim Brandenburg aka Prosumer quit working there at that time and they were thinking about asking me to replace him. So within a short time I sat down with the owner Mark Ernestus and the store manager Michael Hain and got the job.
I know you like to write about music, but why do you hate to write reviews?
I actually do not hate writing reviews at all. But after doing that for several years at de:bug magazine I felt I was increasingly running out of words to accurately describe the music I was given the task to review, and I think keeping a fresh perspective is mandatory in that aspect. But more importantly writing reviews does not work too well with running a label yourself, and working at Hard Wax. On the one hand I wanted to avoid allegations of being biased, on the other hand I had to keep potential implications of my writing commitments out of my other work. So I began to lay my focus on features and interviews, mostly from a historical perspective. I am not afraid of discourse and speaking my mind on certain topics if I feel it is necessary, but I am very cautious to remain objective.
Can you tell us what is Druffalo?
Druffalo is a semi-anonymous collective of six seasoned DJs and writers living in Berlin, Mannheim and Cologne, and was founded in 2007. It used to be a rather notorious web fanzine celebrating aspects of culture we felt were worth celebrating, and we were pretty merciless in pointing out aspects of culture we felt were not worth celebrating at all. The web magazine is defunct for a while now, as at some point the server we were running on mysteriously disconnected us and we thought it was a good statement to just disappear. The whole archive is backed up though, so nobody should feel too safe. Attached to it was a DJ collective called the Druffalo Hit Squad, consisting of the same six editors and likeminded guests. We did an influential mix series that is archived on Mixcloud, and we were constantly throwing parties that were pretty anarchic. Since the end of 2015 we took up a bi-monthly residency at the club Paloma Bar in Berlin, where we mostly define our idea of a modern Soul allnighter, using our vast archive of Disco, Soul and Garage House records. But there are also plans to return to the eclecticism of former years.
Do you think your Macro label is becoming a genre in itself, like RE-GRM, ECM, L.I.E.S., or Blackest Ever Black?
No, I do not think so, nor were Stefan Goldmann and me ever interested in establishing a certain trademark label sound that we have to fulfill with every release. We are more interested in working with producers that have developed their own signature sound, as long as it fits in with our own preferences. Our idea of running a label is very open, it is only determined by what we are interested in, and we are both very different individuals. We only release what we both agree on and that, combined with the consistent collaboration with our designer Hau, resulted in a certain coherence, although our back catalogue is rather diverse. We were also always aiming for the long run, and we both feel that you only can achieve that with a healthy amount of leeway and fresh ideas. Of course it is also important to have an identity, but we much prefer that to be based on reliable quality than sound aesthetics that create or reflect trends but are likely to end up as mere expectations. I do not think we are really comparable to the labels you mentioned, too. We had some archival releases, and we might have influenced some musical developments, but neither are essential to what we do.
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