11
The Drake Underground used to feel like the centre of the universe.
At least, our universe.
There was a night called Elvis Mondays.
Free food. Weird bands. Music kids everywhere.
Everyone knew everyone.
Everyone was in a band.
Or starting one.
Or breaking up one.
Or falling in love with someone in another one.
And we all thought something extraordinary was happening.
We were making music, making friends, making scenes, making plans.
Convinced we were going somewhere.
Maybe some of us did.
Most of the bands broke up.
The scene eventually scattered.
I call us the almost famous generation.
Watch the scene study below.
Years later, I returned to the Drake Underground to film a Jo Ryder music video.
The hotel was empty.
The room was quiet.
And the ghosts were everywhere.
I remembered who I was when I first walked into that room.
Who I thought I would become.
And how many different versions of myself had passed through since. The lover. The dreamer. The artiste. The heartbroken. The defiant. The depressed.
There's something strange about making a new piece of art in a room that holds so much of your old ambition.
The room is the same.
The artist isn't.
And maybe that's the part I hadn't anticipated.
I never became the rockstar I thought I'd be.
But I never stopped making things.
And somehow, there I was.
Still making music.
Still making films.
Still finding my way back to the same rooms. Still believing that creating is everything.
“Almost famous doesn’t mean almost artists.”
The archive continues on Instagram, whenever the mood hits ♡
(usually after midnight)
