Review – West Street Live

Price: £

Atmosphere: 4 stars

Likelihood of Spandau Ballet: Very high

West Street Live is as unambiguous and unpretentious as its name suggests. It’s the Ronseal of Sheffield nightlife; it does exactly what it says on the tin. It has live music (which, in my experience, can range from a traditional Greek bouzouki ensemble to a band called The Bangkok Messiahs of Groove) and a ‘DJ’ (a misanthrope armed with an 80s-heavy iTunes library and a crossfader) 7 nights a week. And, if you hadn’t already guessed, it’s on West Street.

Its music is a smorgasbord: an eclectic mix, and a considerable variety, of cheese. By ‘eclectic’ I mean it’s everything from Bon Jovi to Fatman Scoop. By ‘cheese’ I mean it’s usually mature and, if you have too much before bedtime, you’ll have nightmares. If you’re not a fan of cheese, there is, of course, no escape whatsoever.

The cheese pervades every corner and every booth. Like an overflowing disco fondue. If you’re looking for somewhere to chat, you’ll have to keep looking. Unless you can chat louder than the inebriated chants of ‘Come On Eileen’. Which is very difficult to do.

When it comes to inebriation, West Street Live is renowned for its inventiveness. One of its most popular poisons is the tastes-as-good-as-it-sounds ‘Schit Bomb’ – a Jägerbomb made with fake Jäger but ingested with genuine and immediate self-loathing. The fact that ‘schit’, in Romanian, means ‘hermitage’ is completely irrelevant. It’s cheap and potent. Shut up and drink it. You bloody boring puritan. You can take £10 and, provided you’re teetering on pre-drinks, topple completely and hilariously.

West Street Live isn’t big. This means that its toilets, like some of its clientele, are small and odious. If at all possible, avoid them. All night. But, if you do need to go, keep an eye out for the philosophical musings scrawled on the walls. I was once prompted to ponder: ‘Is the potential of our youth to be stifled by the hands of greed’?

But this was made somewhat less poignant by the ubiquitous smell of shit and the sound of a man, who was kneeling in a pool of urine, vomiting into a urinal.

But you should definitely go to West Street Live. It’s really great.