She shot me down Bang Bang…


The life I lead is not exactly sufficient to earn me the title of a Gonzo journalist. The conspicuous reason for this is not my lacking vocational position as a writer, let alone delusions of grandeur to even qualify as one but instead it is the deficiency of Hunter S-esque Gonzo fervour in my lifestyle.

Beyond my commitments the time I have reserved for my social life is one of the 3 weekend nights. I realise that this reduces me to a retired student but come talk to me when you get your 2nd degree. The point on which I endeavour this rambling to finally fall is that because I hardly go out, when I do I aim for it to be for a special reason. And it was special, and eventful enough to warrant a post…

[Had I in fact been a real journalist I may have had the skill to write that all in a lot less line space and since I’m not you can’t blame me...]

The special event to warrant me venturing off my coricraft was the recent opening of a new club in town and I wanted to go check it out, The Bang Bang Club.



Affectionately known as Bang Bang, the place has been an inadvertent victim of suspense marketing. You know how manufactures let your know about their latest product and then don’t release it for 2months so you build up anticipation and interest because it’s something you want but can’t have? Think Xbox 360, or don’t, anyway this happened here.

Pronounced to open at the beginning of November 2006 the compact building in Loop street didn’t get to open it’s doors until last week, February 2007. The reason for this was the sneaky intervention of competing clubs like Opium and Chrome who have the financial sway with the powers that be to prevent a start up from impinging on the lucrative season market. What they didn’t bank on was an irate public building interest to finally go check the place out that had been spoken of at such lengths…

The venue is pretty sick to say the least! An ornate entrance hall takes you to the bottom of a sweeping staircase. Standing at the bottom you look heavenward onto a 20ft wide poster of a blonde Guess girl that would make Hell a worthwhile place to visit she kept the gate of Hades and you just got to see her upon arrival…


The medium sized club is spaciously set out with the very high ceiling and split level design giving you that school boy feeling of sitting in the cavernous chapel on a Sunday night after a long weekend shaking with anticipation to share weekend escapade stories with your peers. The venue is decked out to the max with flash finishes that don’t err on the side of overkill, plasma screens, impressive sound equipment and get this big fuck off air-conditioners that make the inside of a walk in fridge humid. Seriously the place is so well ventilated you could kite surf your fishbowl, but when you (and I quote a major shareholder) ‘owe the bank a million rand’ you get your monies worth.

The only bizarre thing about the place is the upstairs loft area that sports leather couches and a view of the bar craving people below doesn’t have a bar. Okay, not having a bar upstairs is not really as bizarre as the reason. The reason is they do, they just put a dry wall around it. They built a fantastic bar at the far end of upstairs with the access stairs on the other. The problem came when the council decided that upstairs meant they exceed the allowed floor space of the venue. But to solve the problem they closed access to the bar instead of getting creative about it and block off the first part and keep the bar…

(Call me naïve, call me sexist, call me judgmental but you can’t call me wrong on this. I don’t have pretty digital photos of the place to give you a visual idea because taking a digital camera out with you to a club is an idiosyncrasy reserved for girls so just deal with that. If you want to know what it looks like, get off your ass and go check it out or I suppose you can get one of your chick mates on facebook to post her photos of it on there…fag.)

However, they solved the bar problem upstairs in a very effective albeit not unique way. They have a waitress taking orders. This is where my lack of journalistic skill and refusal to look like a camera sporting tourist plays a huge role. I don’t have the words to describe the 5feet of important Italian angel or the photo to tell the thousand words. Thankfully I keep company with a mature and experienced guy who could fill the blank space that is this little girl in words. I would have gone with the ‘greatest thing to come out of Italy since Cannavaro’ or the ‘Italian Job’ but he nailed it with ‘she might be the reason I fail GDA!’ Lovely.

Bang Bang could easily be the new best thing in town…