Once upon a time, when I was young, I remember a new kid arriving in school - he had a strange Northern accent that was dashing and exciting, and he wowed us with wonderful tales of his far-off homeland: a mystical place called Wigan where incredible things happened.
Over 10 years later, I've finally made it there (although please note, this was not ever any ambition of mine) and I wasn't disappointed. Within 15 minutes of arriving, we've witnessed the largest ever queue of tracksuit-wearing adolescents at McDonalds (pretty much right out the door) and the earliest bar brawl too. (Man, it's only 6pm.. sort your freaking life out)
Like other out-of-London promoters we have played for, The Wigan Music Collective is an isolated pocket of indivuals striving to put on nights of great electronic/dance music in an area that's seemingly at odds against it. And the best thing is - they do know how to party. One of the most physically-draining of gigs we've done for a while thanks to the radiator behind the stage that doesn't turn off. We briefly toy with the idea of doing more exercise to cope with these situations.
Photos: Friends from Wigan, and Stuey finds his long lost brother.




