The Secret Party, Edinburgh: Declassified

Thursday. 6:30pm. You find yourself sitting in your room with a ticket in your possession; a ticket to a party of which you have absolutely no idea. You just paid £8, and you don’t even know where the place is. How did this happen? How did three simple words trick you into this predicament?

To many, the life of a club promoter would seem one filled with endless convincing and empty promises. Spending hours finding new ways to reshape and portray the same thing, they try partnering with other societies and companies, creating catchy catch-phrases, eye-popping facebook events, all to try and set their night apart from the rest. However, this party set itself apart by not doing that.

There were no extensive facebook descriptions, no ruthless flyering campaigns, no promoters giving you their life story. For this, the music policy was kept quiet, the venue kept off the grid. If you asked, all you got were three words: ‘it’s a secret’. It was all that had to be said and, indeed, all that could be said, and to several hundred Edinburgh club-goers, that was enough.