Berlin. It’s queuing an hour and a half before Berghain on a Tuesday night, to see Darkside, aka Nicolas Jaar and Dave Harrington, knowing that the show is sold out, but there are fifty tickets left at box office. It’s counting the people in the line before you, keeping an eye on what is going on. It’s eventually making your way to the doorman. Who, after five minutes of impatient trying to keep it cool, tells you, the last two tickets have just been sold.
It’s not believing how unlucky you are and going to the next Dönerbude. Where you eat a Döner and drink a bottle of wine and start talking about love and men and women with the two friends who were out of luck with you.
But it’s also: For some reason, after the bottle of wine is killed, deciding to try again. It’s coming back to the club, its entrance now empty, walking up to the same doorman and explaining to him why, really, it doesn’t make any sense that you are not allowed inside. And eventually, getting in.
It’s spending the next hour dancing to a deep bass, Harrington’s bluesy guitar and Jaar’s smoky voice.
Until the music abruptly finishes and the lights are switched on.