Words: Olly Kay
Thanks to: Sam, Rosie and Casey
It’s 2015. I’m waiting in the queue for my first night out at Rainbow, now XOYO Birmingham. SHY FX, Kurupt FM and a selection of local DJs are on the bill. I’m nervous. I am from Bromsgrove, not Birmingham, so a night of raving in the nation’s second largest city is as daunting as it is exciting.
I walk into the venue and feel the bass reverberate through my chest. The music, the venue, the people – the community – welcome me with open arms. I feel at home in a city which technically I can’t claim as my own, but am eager to at every opportunity.
Digbeth, since then, has represented for me a place where people can come together to dance, feel a release and experience human connection. Brummies and their adopted cousins – from Cannock, Bromsgrove, Solihull and beyond – all converge on these defiant back streets of Birmingham to shake off the constraints of their 9-5.
“All races, many faces from places you’ve never heard of
“Where you from, what’s your name and what you on?”
Weak Become Heroes – The Streets (2002)
However, this rite of passage for many living in and around Birmingham looks to be threatened as early as 2030, with railway plans potentially forcing the closure of approximately 50 Digbeth venues which many would call a second home. This includes locations such as XOYO Birmingham, Lunar Springs, The Night Owl, Club Colette and Mama Roux’s.
Whilst infrastructure improvements are always important, especially when they are being made to better connect the West Midlands to the rest of the UK, the potential cultural and economic impact on Digbeth would be profound and devastating.
The unexpected news hit me surprisingly hard. I felt a sense of mourning for the people of Birmingham who might not get the same experiences of Digbeth, and especially its nightlife community, that I did. The first-timers who haven’t yet stood in a Digbeth queue, young DJs who haven’t played their first set or the groups of friends who haven’t yet found a space that feels like their own.
The erasure of areas such as those earmarked for closure in Digbeth affects more than can be measured by growth indicators. You can’t accurately measure human connections, safe spaces promoting queer performance, or opportunities for up-and-coming musicians to play to local audiences. These experiences, both unique and equally universal for many of us who frequent these Digbeth venues, deserve to be heard.
Rosie Dangerfield is 19 and beginning to discover those exact experiences.
“As a young person in today’s world, I am constantly looking for new spaces to discover that hold more meaning than the standard commercial clubbing scene. Me and my friends were initially attracted to Digbeth for its alternative, industrial and personal feel. I can still recall my first Boogie Tuesday at The Night Owl.
The sheer excitement I get just from hearing mention of the club is the kind I haven’t otherwise unlocked since I was much younger”
The Night Owl, at risk of closure, is heralded as providing sanctuary for those in Birmingham who want to express themselves amongst non-judgemental peers. The importance of safe and expressive third-space venues cannot be overstated.
Cake Boi, aka Sam from Birmingham, hosts the LET THEM EAT CAKE cabaret at The Night Owl.
“The show is a wonderful collection of queers who come together and put on a show based on specific artists – we’ve done Kate Bush, Harry Styles, Diana Ross and many more. These nights are special because there is not a lot of cabaret in Birmingham.
I’d be devastated to lose access to this space. We’ve constantly had messages of people finding such joy in the night. Claire, Mazzy and Shan have really believed in my vision in a way that has allowed something really amazing to flourish.”
Sam feels as though they built and grew the event in spite of, as opposed to with the support of, the powers-that-be.
“It always feels like we’re fighting the City, rather than the City fighting for us”.
We have seen in the last couple of years how Birmingham has begun to embrace its historical and cultural icons such as Ozzy Osbourne, born and raised in the city. But the closure of these venues risks also closing the door to artists building support in their city – possibly the next Ozzy, Chris Lorenzo or Jorja Smith
“Digbeth is where everything started for me, especially Lower Trinity Street,” says Casey Gilliver, also known as @Sylver_uk and former co-founder of CNTRL at Club Colette.
“Digbeth is where I fell in love with electronic music and the culture around it. Without spaces like that, I genuinely don’t think I’d have become a DJ”.
What is significant about these closure plans is that it’s not just a single venue affected, but an entire nightlife network that is so culturally important to the city as a whole.
“Venues like Mama Roux’s, Club Colette, XOYO and The Night Owl aren’t just individual clubs, they’re part of a wider ecosystem. They support DJs, promoters, creatives and give people a place to discover music and find their community. That’s what makes Birmingham’s nightlife so important.”
“If we lose them, it’s not just nights out that disappear; it’s opportunities. There’s a lot of gratitude tied to Digbeth. It gave me a platform, a community, and a path into something bigger.”
Whilst the three stories of Rosie, Sam and Casey are unrelated, they’re tied together by Digbeth. By the venues that are under threat.
Three overlapping stories that demonstrate the importance of Digbeth through the lens of the community it fosters, the space for expression, and the opportunities it provides for curators, creatives and artists. Community, opportunity and expression that is currently under threat.
It’s not hyperbole to say that Digbeth is the crown jewel of Birmingham’s nightlife. One that is rough around the edges and, in parts, in need of polishing for sure. But it’s a crown jewel we should all be proud of, and fight to keep. If not for yourself, then for the next generation of Birmingham’s creatives. For the first-timers yet to walk through its doors. Or for Rosie, Sam and Casey.