Vote: What’s the worst club in Bristol?
Let’s decide this once and for all and then never go there again
Unfortunately Bunker is most people’s first clubbing experience in Bristol. The Stoke Bishop hordes descend upon the oily floors of this sad establishment every Monday to wallow in the self pity and regret that Bunker’s grey walls inevitably bring on. You stumble from failure to disappointment and end up at the bar to buy those two jagerbombs that you hope will save the night. They won’t.
Sticky dancefloors, ugly boys with their tops off, chunder-filled toilets, horrendous music? Lounge is the only Bristol nightclub that meets this description. And it is beyond guaranteed you’ll have a tragic night and a stinking hangover.
Katie Price was here.
Katie. Fucking. Price.
Pam Pam is great. Pam Pam is brilliant. Pam Pam is where you feel at home. Assuming that “home” for you is either Sloane Square or the KR (as you refer to it). If you’ve never lived in Wills or Churchill, chances are you’ve never set foot in Pam Pams. And that’s okay.
It’s just a shit version of Lounge. You go out and you’re ready to go to Lounge (which is acceptable because you’re doing it in an “ironic” way) but then the queue is too long so your friends decide to go to Mbargo instead and they insist it’ll be fine but it’s won’t be fine because then the irony is gone and you’re just standing there looking longingly at the Brass Pig wishing you were there instead.
Lola Lo’s is awful. If your idea of a good night out is being pinned against a wall between two freshers strawpedoing VKs while pathetically dancing to Iyaz’s Replay, then this is the place for you. For everyone else do not be lured into this grim establishment.
What people who go there talk about: Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs, Drugs.
The boat doesn’t even sail away majestically into the horizon, there are no pirates, and the name sounds like some kind of venereal disease. Thekla is more shit than ship. But even though the drinks are pricey, the floors are the slipperiest of any club and the dance floor is too small, people still keep on coming back for more. Whatever floats your boat I guess.
Just like Mbargo except smaller and with more locals, Agora holds a special place in Bristol’s nightclub scene as an unremarkable pinnacle of mediocrity. Also I lost my coat there during Fresher’s week so yeah fuck this place.
Everyone knows about the stairs in the club formerly known as Syndicate but the hip-hop room, drink prices, and frankly gross clientele give them a run for their money when trying to decide what the worst part of going here is. If you’re a fan of animal watching, then SWX is the place to go to watch the local populace in their natural habitat: getting in fights, performing mating rituals, and generally making you glad you went to private school. Don’t go to SWX, it’s shit.
O2 Academy is always packed. On a busy night here, you’ve got a better chance of finding DJ Derek than the rest of your mates.
While most Bristol clubs play it safe with one floor of sweaty disappointment, Pryzm shoves a triple whopper burger of shitty music, desperate fools and hen parties in your face. “Please eat me” it screams, “I’m only £5”. You sigh and think back at all the times you ate up Pryzm’s greasy sadness before. A single tear rolls down your cheek and once more you step into the club’s three-floored maze of failure.
Basement 45 can be commended for being the only club to have the average age of its customers in the name. Beware: Locals found inside.