LOST - The Temple of Techno (by persons unknown)
Someone, in the realms of deepest wit and wisdom (probably Oscar Wilde), once commented that religion is the opium of the masses.
Religion, in this country at least, is an old and moribund mange, ready to be put to sleep.
For people of our generation (who spend enough time grovelling around on their hands and knees and praying to the Almighty just to get their giro), the appeal of kneeling and praying in a cold, stagnant building in the early hours of a Sunday morning, is minimal. We've been through the education system and have already been instilled with enough of a feeling of lowliness to know that we are but no-good-shits and will continue to be but no-good-shits until such time as we switch off our minds, hopes, dreams and ambitions and sacrifice all pleasures in life to the drudgery of nine-to-five, thereby becoming 'a productive member of society'. If Jesus Christ was around today he probably wouldn't end up nailed to a cross - but can that really be considered punishment in comparison with a life stacking shelves in Sainsburys?
The urge to look out and beyond ourselves for some greater deity is inherent in human beings but our generation, apart from having had it up to here with humility, can see through the sham that is the inter-personal-squabbling and self-preserving-power-trip called 'Religion' and have, either consciously or sub-subconsciously, decided to find some other form of worship.
So for our generation I tell you this: Techno is the religion of the masses, and nowhere more so than at LOST, the ultimate Temple of Techno.
The parallels are incredible.
The dusty, grey building is the same, though the stained-glass windows have been covered by backdrops. On the altar, prayer books have been replaced by Technics. It is no longer obligatory for the preachers to wear dresses and, although it is male dominated, women are allowed to take their place behind the pulpit. The idea of standing up to show respect has been embraced to the extent that the pews are no longer necessary, and have been removed. Getting up early on a Sunday morning is a problem easily solved by arriving Saturday night. Holy water has been replaced by Evian but, unfortunately, I have only come across one club (The End) that has adopted the idea of a font. Even the ceremonious intake of little, round pieces of paper hasn't changed that much, although the pieces of paper tend to be square and the little, round things tend to be smaller and fatter. And 'Amen' has been replaced by 'cooooome on'.
Add to this the fact that, for myself, a good night out is often judged by the varied assortment of aliens I see screaming round the room - and the parallel between 'God' and aliens is obvious to any free-thinking individual. The idea of some immortal, extra-terrestrial being coming to Earth to save us, guide us, show us a better way (the basis of almost all religions) is tantamount to belief in alien life forms - but then again you try joining the Christian channel to discuss this with them and see the reaction you get!
I am happy to be humble at LOST, to show some FUCKING RESPECT, to act in accordance with my master's wishes - hallelujah, I believe. But it is worship on equal terms - there's no point preaching to an empty room, however inspiring your sermon may be - and, let's be honest, who ain't a DJ? And fortunately this seems to be understood and appreciated - I've never met a good DJ with a big ego (not that I haven't met DJs with attitude but they've invariably been not only wankers but completely inept on the decks).
LOST is probably the best club in the world. The line-ups are always filled with the gurus, masters and inventors of techno, the true underground kings - Jeff Mills, Steve Bicknell, Robert Hood, Juan Atkins. People often flinch at the door pressure of £12 and normally so would I, but LOST is at least three times as good as any other club and I'd much rather pay £12 for a blinder than a fiver for another mediocre night out.
Steve Bicknell was bang on it at the last LOST, the most on it I think I've ever heard him play (or maybe I was just sober enough to notice this time!). My feet were no longer in my control and my mouth was set in a permanent grin, especially when the chant 'we are on TV' came lager-shouting out of the system - hmmm, maybe not yet, but if our aspirations to beam LOST live and direct into your front room come to fruition... Patrick Pulsinger was a bit patchy but Robert Hood was the true genius that Robert Hood always is and he filled the floor with Merry Men and, of course, Women.
LOST ain't for lightweights or for people that wanna sit around chatting in a comfy environment, but if your idea of fun is a night of chaos, confusion and darkness, relentless strobe light and the best fucking full on techno you'll ever hear anywhere, then LOST is for you.