Why I love DBE

Last Thursday saw the return of DBE – the one event in a Loughborough student’s calendar that might actually be worth the admission fee (or part of it anyway).

It’s no secret that DBE is a little different to its Friday night counterpart, not least for the dirty sick beats.

The double-sided cassette tape filled with Top of the Pops/primary school disco classics from the last 15 years is tossed aside and replaced by a genuine live act.

This guy is definitely one of the top DJs in the world. You’ve definitely heard of him. You’ve followed him on SoundCloud since day one – day one being tomorrow.

Considering this doesn’t happen too often, yes this is kind of a big deal.  And no, that lad from Geordie Shore doesn’t count.

Setting last-entry at a sketchy 23:23, the tone for the night is set. Yes the queue is a long and drawn-out process, but this only adds to the experience, and the drugs you bought before make sure of it..

Despite the vibe and pumping tunes, remember this isn’t the night to get caught out by the infamous LSU camera. It might seem like a good idea at the time, but having your jaw swinging from the light fitting above is not a good look.

As you make you’re way through an endless sea of sweaty undergraduates, don’t be put-off by the clothing you witness. These are in fact the “wavy garms” you’ve heard so much about – the retro sportswear being the crowd favourite, keeping the tarnished memory of Jimmy Savile very much alive.

Sunglasses and bucket hats are among other fashion faux-pas that are encouraged. Everyone loves accessorising – but maybe the blistering heat of the Mediterranean sun would provide a more suitable location, not DBE.  It’s dark, and it’s indoors.

This is also an important time to remember that those in bandanas are not in fact pirates.

Continuing through, you may encounter a species that has seen its numbers surge in recent times. Once condemned to the shadows of the bedroom, the mirror providing its only friend, the shuffler has danced its way into kinder times.

This being said, it’s probably best to avoid them. Witnessing the same thirty second routine over and over can be insufferable, giving you the irresistible urge to kick their shins, and if they persist, go the full Jon Flanagan (two-footed scissor from behind).

Another one to avoid is the hipster, although this is much harder. High in numbers, this type travel in packs. Fresh with the rep they established in a shit club in London five years ago, they scout out innocent passers-by who aren’t quite as “cool” as them.

Equipped with a fresh pair of New Balance, an Ellesse sports jacket and a “hairstyle that looks like it wants to be a ponytail when it grows up”, they are not as frightening as one would have you believe. Actually, they’re surprisingly friendly and respond well to your frivolous chat and urges to “have a good night, mate”.

Finally, although sightings are rare, there is a third sub-species, the “ket ant”. These are to be avoided at all costs. Once ensnared, it is close to impossible to escape. Only by feeding them more Special K will they retract into a perilous ket-hole.

By this time, the main act of the evening should be on. Any reservations you had should be abandoned. This is the time to throw those naughty shapes you’ve been dreaming of for weeks. The beat sounds the same, the dancing stays the same, but something feels different.

If not, who said dropping another pill at 4am was a bad idea. Probably you’re nan, but she’s dead anyway.