Yeezy, you did not please me

The all-Kanye night was a bit shit


Oxford loves Kanye. Is it because the arrogant twats at this university can identify with the self-proclaimed Jesus/Michelangelo/Da Vinci? Is it an ironic love? Or is it a genuine love for Yeezy’s tunes? Perhaps we’ll never know.

In any case, “YEEZY PEEZY: ALL KANYE, ALL NIGHT” seemed set to be big. Many middle-class white boys were posting lyrics on the Facebook group.

When I made the mistake of asking a friend whether he was going, he peered at me confusedly, “It’s Yeezy,” he replied. Ah yes, Yeezy. Why then, did the night go so horrifically wrong?

Upon arriving at Camera – at a suitably late hour, of course – there was no queue. No audible screams or shouts of delight could be heard from indoors. The bouncer assured us he was prepared for the arrival of five hundred people, but a flicker of fear could be detected behind his stony-grey eyes.

Akon’s Lonely plays in the background

A friend of mine decided to return to the library. The clock struck twelve, and there was still no queue. Two grungy fashionistas could be seen walking away from Camera, shaking their heads sadly and discussing Kanye’s fall from Paradise.

We ignored their shouts of “it’s not worth it” and went in anyway.

There were maybe twenty people there.

A lone wolf strolls by

The only people who seemed to be having a genuinely good time were four boys waving their arms around manically and dropping it like it was hot in a corner. We joined them. For a long time, things went on in this vein. People shuffled about, embarrassed.

A trip to the smoking area revealed that this was where people had been hiding out. A girl with thick black eyeliner was slumped against a wall, dragging furiously on a cigarette. A boy who I spoke to informed me that he had arrived with four friends, all of whom had left.

Eventually Gold Digger came on and one could detect a noticeable change in the atmosphere. People got excited. I got excited. Camera seemed to be filling up, albeit very slowly.

Happy friend

I bopped along for a while, but it seemed that this night of arduous waiting around had taken its toll on me. My tonsils were aflame and I felt ill. I decided I did not have the stamina for ALL KANYE, ALL NIGHT.

My smile is strained

I woke up the next day, rested and alert. The smudged red stamp on my wrist was the only thing that hinted I’d engaged in any sort of festivities. I peered at it and wondered if, upon speaking to my friends, I’d regret my decision to leave when I did. After all, they had seemed pretty happy.

I asked lover-of-Kanye friend whether things had picked up after I left. She told me she herself had had fun but the club was only “decently” full, not “massively”.

“YEEZY PEEZY: ALL KANYE, ALL NIGHT” was one of those nights where you kind of had to take the piss to have fun. Sure, you’d have had fun if all your good friends were there, but the atmosphere was pretty shit. Now that I come to think of it, the four boys thrashing about in the corner were probably engaging in some sort of survival technique. Had they stopped clowning around, they would have had to face what was quite a miserable evening.

To be fair to the organisers, I left early and things definitely did pick up, but this less-than enthusiastic club night was probably the stuff of Kanye’s worst nightmares.

Even Kanye’s biggest supporters reluctantly admitted that Freud’s was probably the place to be that fateful Wednesday’s eve.