Warehouse parties have gone mental. This summer, massive events like Sunrise have summoned thousands, in buses and car convoys, to aircraft hangars in the countryside for all-night house sessions. The tabloid press and the police are going wild trying to stop them – but can they crush a phenomenon that has been growing for ten years?
It’s five in the morning, and the convoy of cars has been reduced to a crawling procession through the countryside. In the car in front a young lad has been leaning out of the back window for the last half hour screaming “mental, fucking mental mate, let’s go mental”, but the predominant noise is the sound of a thousand car stereos, bumper-to-bumper, blasting out ‘Strings Of Life’ and ‘French Kiss’ into the warm summer morning, and the thumping bass of a distant sound system.