What your favourite Norwich night club says about you

Mercy XS

If you go on a Friday, you love your commercial house music; David Zowie’s ‘House Every Weekend’ is your anthem, and you’ve got enough stories about seeing Tiesto at Creamfields to last a lifetime. If you go on a Saturday, you’re either a local trying to pull a university student, or a university student trying to pull a local – enough said.

The Waterfront

You love a good can of Red Stripe, and make sure it’s fully visible every time somebody takes a picture. Even though you’re wearing a Sonic Youth t-shirt, a ‘vintage’ denim jacket and some pristine old-skool Vans, you’ll lose your shit when they play ‘I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor’, and it’ll only be semi-ironic.

Mantra

Being the only big club that acknowledges grime music wasn’t invented in 2015, you’re likely the archetypal home counties kid who has moved to Norwich and bought your first Palace t-shirt. If you’re a lady in Mantra then you are probably juxtaposing the streetwear-fest by wearing high heels and dresses, and you usually spend the night trying to avoid said roadmen.

The LCR

Everybody at UEA loves the LCR, but you’re very much in the minority if you admit to this. Your choice of drink is obviously two orange VKs, and you have secret a Spotify playlist full of all the early noughties bangers that you love to hear on a Tuesday night. If you’re a first year you wear a poorly constructed costume; if you’re not, you wear a shirt you bought from Topman in 2014 and some crappy old trainers. It’s the LCR, nobody cares.

The Loft

You’re a little too edgy for the LCR, but hate the music they play elsewhere, making Norwich’s premier LGBT venue the place to be on a Thursday. You’ll wear your most flamboyant clothes and a shit load of glitter, but then dance the night away to something as medicore as ‘I Don’t Care’ by Icona Pop. You’ll also butcher the karaoke, and not realise the filthy look everybody is giving you for it.

Karma Kafe/The Crypt

These two clubs draw the exact same crowd; you drink your Red Stripe from a bottle, you’ve likely got a baggie hidden in your shoe, and you’re about to ask for your ninth pint of water. You know your Skream from your Skrillex, and you spend the majority of your week paranoid, waiting for the official event photos to be uploaded to Facebook.