The Attic

I’ve been to The Attic twice in my life in two very different circumstances. Normally I’m just a drinker at the Scholar, but above we have this, the live venue and believe it or not, nightclub. They reside in the littlest of places!
Up a narrow little staircase from the Thirsty Scholar you’ll find this aptly named little space, and fairly little it is. Well, it’s large enough to just about host bands and a crowd of their nearest and dearest, and it was a place I saw a guitarist almost have his Spinal Tap Nigel Tufnell moment. If the microphone wasn’t cutting out it was his guitar. This was when I expected the moment, the throwing down of the guitar on the floor, the storming off stage. Ever the professional, he didn’t do this. He continued. With a look on his face that can only be described as murderous. But oh, what entertainment. I love stuff like this.
Ahem. Moving swiftly on from an intimate, cosy and dive-​like (in a good way) gig venue, I recently realised how not down-​with-​the-​kids I am as I was invited to a dubstep evening by friends who were discussing their hatred of ‘minimal techno’. I don’t know what any of this means, all I know is I arrived, grabbed a strawberry cider and people-​watched to my heart’s content. And do you know what I saw? It was like Coca Cola teaching the world to sing. I’ve never seen so many walks of life in one room. Emos, rockers, German-​looking office nerds (hey. Don’t get annoyed, I can’t help it if blond people with glasses ‘look’ German, it’s Harry Enfield’s fault), R n’ B booty-​shakin mamas, dreadlocked Rastas, people who looked like they should be in N Dubz, chavs, ganstas, everyone was in the same place, no one was arguing, everyone was dancing. Beautiful. United.
‘Yeah, united in their love of ketamine,’ my friend told me with all the cynicism of Daria.
‘Hey, you’ve just ruined it for me,’ I cried, feeling my dream slip through my fingers.
‘I should have warned you that you can only enjoy that music if you’re off your [boobies].’ My paraphrasing there.
Never mind that. I don’t care if they were all high, they’d all come to a tiny club near Oxford Road train station usually reserved for students with guitars. I thought it was a lovely moment. The Attic’s definitely worth a visit if you’re looking for something a little different on Oxford Road.

Harder! Faster! Louder!
Being one of Manchester’s smallest clubs doesn’t mean The Attic has a wee soundsystem. On the contrary, the music always seems to be playing at full volume — keeping conversation to a minimum and dancing to a maximum. The first and third Fridays of the month are devoted to electro, techno, breakbeat and dubstep with club nights Electrode and Drum Music. The second and fourth Fridays are more mellow with clubbers getting down and dirty to pure funk, soul and ska at Roots Before Branches and Vertigo. As you’d expect, Saturdays are more uptempo with a series of house, techno and Brazillian club nights with resident and special guest deejays.
Two minutes walk from the hustle and bustle of Oxford Road, The Attic is accessed via a spiral staircase and is essentially one large room with a bar and deejay booth in the corner. Rather than making the venue claustrophic, this seems to create a good energy with people dancing and having a fun time everywhere you look.
The mighty Frankie Knuckles:

If you like your nightclubs down and dirty, with soundsystems that could explode at any second, cheap drinks and a great atmosphere then Attic is perfect for you.
Housed in the railway arches of Manchester’s Oxford Road Station, this underground venue is actually pretty high above the ground, and is accessed by a grimy purple spiral staircase. You get inside, and it’s dark and dirty. For the most part, the music here is pretty dirty too. From techno to breakbeat, trance to dubstep, the club nights at Attic really turn it up to the proverbial 11.
As well as hosting one of Manchester’s longest-​running club nights, the Attic has also hosted a huge range of big name DJs, such as Boy 8-​Bit, Boxcutter and Zero 7. The DJ booth is really just a small stage with decks, meaning that the DJ really gets to be part of what’s going on. It’s a far cry from the impersonal feel of places like the Warehouse Project, feeling more like a house party than a rave.
Word to the wise, some nights there’s no cloakroom, so p’raps don’t wear your best coat. It’s hot in here and you’ll kick yourself if you lose anything nice.
The Attic is one of Manchester’s best clubs, putting on consistently great nights that really cater for the city’s electro contingent. And long may it continue!