Web and The End of My Clubbing Days
by Aner Ravon

I attended a great dinner party on Friday, one of those corrupt occasions where the question is not how much you eat beyond what you planned to, but how guilty you feel after. I usually try to clean my conscience by hitting the treadmill extra early on the next day and that’s exactly what I did on Saturday. As I was picking up my speed I heard a familiar song - Groove Jet, by Spiller featuring Sophie Ellis Bextor, a former model which turned to vocals and gained some popularity at the time. If the name doesn’t ring a bell the melody most probably will. A fun, catchy, tune but one I like a lot. The Deja-Vu felt more significant though, almost like a prophecy.

I moved to San Francisco in 2000 at the height of my clubbing days. Bill Clinton was still President and Israel was negotiating peace on and off with Syria and the Palestinians. The NASDAQ composite index hung between 4,000 and 5,000 points and life looked promising to the young dot commer. I spent the first few months searching for descent clubs in San Francisco that could replace the Tel Aviv spots I loved so much, but with not a lot of luck. Unfortunately (for me at least), the good club scene in San Francisco turned out to be almost exclusively gay. The options for heterosexual guys were nothing to email home about. I managed to find one great club though, called the Endup. The Endup attracts the true hard core clubbers - those who live to club. It offers different themes and line-ups in row to form a 3 day non-stop party that begins on Friday night and ends on Sunday evening. The “cherry” of the weekend is called “Church Sunday”, a Sunday morning crazy after-hours event that starts at 6AM and that runs through Sunday afternoon. Church Sunday showcases the hardest and wackiest crowd, and that’s where I found myself one Sunday morning with a good fellow clubber that came to visit me all the way from Tel Aviv.

I remember the unique vibe felt when I entered the club. I was hammered, a result of a long night out, but that was nothing compared to what I saw inside. It was a great atmosphere, very liberated and not offensive or overpowering. Great music, happy, mixed, crowd. One of those situations where you know you’re in a circus but you don’t really mind. At a certain point I got tired and found myself a standing spot next to the bar, right between an aging transgender and two plastered college kids. I purchased a beer (one great advantage of morning parties in California where alcohol is banned between 2AM and 6AM) and let my head rest for a second.

The second turned to minutes and I drifted into my own thoughts. I felt well, but a strange feeling was beginning to creep up on me. I noticed the DJ has started playing a catchy, well mixed, song.  I tried concentrating on figuring out the song title (Kazaa was very popular then) but could only pick up the chorus line which went like “If this ain’t love why does it feel so good?”. And then it struck me. The feeling that is.

I knew it was over. Not the song but the clubbing days. Like Cinderella at midnight. It was still happening around me but the excitement was gone. The music was all of a sudden just music and no longer a journey. The crowd was just a bunch of wackos and no longer a new and refreshing social phenomenon. My head was pounding. I wanted to go home, wash the night off and catch a long night (or morning) sleep. I denied for a while but to no avail. My clubbing days were over.

As the familiar line echoed through my ears this week it triggered that feeling again. This time the angle was different. This time it wasn’t about clubbing. It felt like the new Internet bonanza is now passing it’s peek. As if the virgin, innocent, raw excitement is no longer there. Not like there are no bullets left in the magazine, or like we’re heading for a huge fall like in 2000. Just that sour feeling of a party that has passed it’s peek. Too many cool apps are filled with garbage, too many new apps are just wannabes. Too much new stuff is simply mediocre and boring. It’s getting harder to find the new YouTube anymore among the flood of “me too” social networks. People start realizing that it’s not about the fun only but about the money. Everybody starts realizing there is simply too much stuff out there and that some elimination needs to start taking place. I hear it from my friends, read it on fellow bloggers posts and feel it myself. Good realization? maybe. Fun? Absolutely not.

2000 was a one off. The NASDAQ crashed and I stopped going to clubs. Sophie Ellis Bextor released a few mediocre hit singles and faded out, winding up as an esoteric gay icon. George Bush was elected and the whole world went more conservative. I don’t think we are at that situation now, on the contrary. As a matter of fact I think Internet services are about to quantum leap. For consumers but more importantly for professionals. The market there is just being created.

I do think, however, that the innocent free apps, those that only aim to make the world a nicer place but end up spamming attention are about to sing their swan song. The market is getting so saturated with mediocre nonsense. Clean up time is approaching. Social networks - beware! Video sharing services - watch your steps! Bookmarking applications - find a shelter! Or maybe it’s just my feeling.

The second verse of the song can conclude my feeling and this post. it goes like this:

Think of tomorrow, we beg, steal or borrow

To make all we can in the sun

While we are moving, the music is soothing

Troubles we all have begun

 

Aner Ravon
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