MINISTRY OF SOUND
THE SPEED OF SOUND
RAVE CULTURE MAY HAVE BEEN DEAD AT THE HANDS OF THE TORY GOVERNMENT IN THE EARLY 90S, BUT A SERIES OF SUPERCLUBS, SPEARHEADED BY THE MIGHTY MINISTRY OF SOUND, WERE ABOUT TO GIVE DANCE MUSIC A NEW LEASE OF LIFE...
SAM WILLIS
The death knell for rave culture and the twilight of a joyous and halcyon era in British music came in the form of a particularly resentful and draconian piece of legislature, enacted by Her Majesty’s Government in 1994.
The Criminal Justice Act curtailed raves by giving police the powers to shut down events that were identifi ed by “‘music’ [which] includes sounds wholly or predominantly characterised by the emission of a succession of repetitive beats.” The inverted commas surrounding ‘music’ are a particularly revealing window into the government’s umbrage and disdain for the culture.
This friction between the government and groups of people utilising space for the large-scale celebration of music began with the Battle of the Beanfi eld in 1985 – a high-profi le clash between hippies and the police at Stonehenge – which was followed by the Public Order Act of 1986. This enmity continued throughout the 80s and early 90s until the situation reached breaking point after the infamous 20,000-strong rave at Castlemorton Common in 1992, which was the catalyst for the impending Criminal Justice Act.
However, eight months previous to the rave at Castlemorton, an old bus depot located near the Elephant & Castle in South London was about to transform into a haven that would reclaim and distil the enthusiasm of rave and usher in the ensuing clubland phenomenon. Inspired by one of New York’s most iconic house clubs, it was to provide a legitimised sanctum for the counterculture to continue. This was the wryly-named Ministry Of Sound.
“When the Ministry opened,” says Tall Paul, a Ministry and Turnmills DJ who helped to mix a number of The Ministry Of Sound’s The Annual compilation series, “we were jumping around warehouses that they’d taken all of the product out of for one night. We were desperate to go somewhere and hear the DJs and hear the sound systems. As the culture exploded, clubs were trying to play catch-up. Until then it was all Stringfellows and glitz and glamour and carpets. Ministry was purpose-built. It was like, ‘This is for dance music only, it’s not your Sharon and Tracey sort of vibe, and we’re going to run with it.’”