Famed as the birthplace of techno, Detroit is better known now for bankruptcy and decline (Movement festival excepted). But a handful of clubs, promoters and DJs are keeping its spirit alive. Mixmag explores the nightlife of Motor City.

Every fan of dance music feels some affinity for Detroit. Birthplace of techno thanks to the Belleville Three, LCD Soundsystem’s James Murphy once called the city “the single most important place, musically, the world over”. Most will also know of the stunning Movement Festival that takes over the city’s Hart Plaza in May each year with a huge line-up of local and international talent. But over a quarter of a century on from when Kevin Saunderson, Derrick May and Juan Atkins put the city on the map, what’s the nightlife actually like, weekend to weekend?

After experiencing a slew of shutdowns during the last incarnation of all-night, illegal affairs in the late-00s, Detroit’s scene has now shifted almost entirely to legal venues. Walter Wasacz, local consultant for the Detroit-Berlin Connection, explains: “People have the idea that you can go to Detroit and techno is everywhere, [that] you can just pick techno off the trees… but it’s really inside. The artists are still there, the people are still doing it, but it’s really internal. The heart of techno is still alive… but you’re not going to bump into it by chance in Detroit.” In part, this is a symptom of the vast geographic distance between venues and the disparate nature of neighborhoods. Being a city built for automobiles, a by-product of suburban sprawl, and lacking mass transportation, going out in Detroit requires you to have a deliberate destination in mind – and usually means driving there. You’re not going to get people wandering in off the street or popping in during a night of neighborhood bar-hopping.

One of the only exceptions to this is Whiskey Disco, which recently opened in the space the landmark Oslo used to inhabit. Almost identical to its predecessor, the 150-person club is within walking distance of many Downtown destinations. On a recent Friday night the basement-level venue hosted some first-timers (who found their way inside after a baseball game and marvelled at the ‘novel’ sight of vinyl records) and a bachelorette party who pestered local DJ Erno the Inferno with a slew of song requests. The following Friday, the dark room is full of diverse house-heads who have gathered for an all-night b2b set from Kyle Hall and Jay Daniel. A breakdance circle forms near the DJ booth, while local legends Anthony ‘Shake’ Shakir, Omar-S and Rick Wilhite bob unassumingly in the crowd.

Then there’s the venerated TV Lounge. A quarter of a mile down Grand River Avenue from the Motor City casino’s 15 stories of ludicrous rainbow-LEDs, and not a whole lot else, the club doesn’t get much walk-in traffic. That hardly seems to matter, though, as TV is often the preferred place for the discerning Detroit partygoer. The two-room club has an ample outdoor patio which offers a superb view of the skyline to its south and hosts lively parties throughout the summer. Cued into Detroiters’ predilection for a side of bizarre with their beats, the club’s iconoclastic logo is a baby smoking a cigarette. Owned by Tree Graves, who has been throwing parties with Detroit’s house music greats since the Ken Collier days, it is a true embodiment of the DIY mentality of Detroit.

In fact, the sentiment is inscribed in the very cement of the outdoor DJ booth. Scrawled in the ground are the words ‘Party ain’t gonna throw itself’, a fitting motto for Motown. Proving the attitude is no mere platitude is Mike Petrack, former Manager and now resident DJ of the club (and co-head of How To Kill Records). He was observed during a 2013 Movement pre-party personally pushing a wheelbarrow of cement around, before building the booth by hand.

Perhaps the most infamous affair the 350-person club has hosted was a 24-hour party during Movement 2011 called Shit Show 2. From the kings of all things deviant and demented, the now-defunct Gary Springs Hunting Club, the party had a trippy, twisted flyer that boasted an ahead-of-its-time line-up, including Com Truise, Clint Stewart and Jimmy Edgar. It also promised farm animals. To everyone’s surprise, from 9am to noon there was indeed a petting zoo in the alleyway, complete with real-life rabbits, chickens, alpacas – and a ‘unicorn’. It was a quintessential display of the creativity that can come out of having nothing to lose and everything to prove from a town that delights in being different.

A more contentious club is the Grasshopper Underground, located in the suburbs about 15 minutes from Downtown. With a legal capacity of just 96, the small sub-level room is frequently a sardine-can sweatbox for the likes of Carl Craig and Kill Frenzy. Moodymann even showed up recently to scope out Oliver $’s set, whose track ‘Doin’ Ya Thang’ samples his vocals. Kevin Saunderson just kicked off a monthly residency called Elevate Your Mind, citing the size and location as making it an ideal home. Not everyone feels the same, though, as many say they prefer to party in Detroit proper. Troy Ramroop, the club’s owner, tells us “A lot of people say they want to go Downtown for that ‘Downtown feel’, [but] I can create that. I’ll give you that… we’re going to create that atmosphere, but also give a higher-end product.” It’s one of the only underground venues in Detroit that has VIP areas and bottle service.

Another venue that receives its fair share of hems and haws and not a lot of whole lot of credit is The Works. Despite being the oldest underground club in the city, local promoter Blank Code admits that hosting events there is often a polarising issue. But its exposed brick walls, strobes, visuals and stacks of speakers lend themselves to an appealing underground atmosphere, as does the fact that it’s the only legal venue open until 6am. It’s the sort of place Richie Hawtin, Carl Cox and Laurent Garnier used to show up to unannounced, ready to throw down for hours.

Rarely will you find gaudy displays of glamour and glitz in Detroit’s underground. Very few parties employ flashy LEDs or even visuals, and you don’t have to dress up to get down. For a lot of people, a night out calls for a Detroit Hustles Harder, Detroit Techno Militia or Detroit Tigers hoodie and a pair of jeans. They dress to sweat, not to impress. To an extent, this level of comfort comes from the fact that, despite now boasting the numbers to support three or more events on any given night, everyone seems to know everyone else. Chalk some of it up to the fact that they’ve been there for decades, truly banding together and persevering while watching friends leave as economic decline led to an exodus from the city. The problem is, with that comes a sense of entitlement – as well as an overarching lack of disposable funds. Combined, these factors make it tough to get people to pay at the door, even though entry very rarely goes over $20 (it’s often kept closer to $5 or $10).

Says Erika, a local DJ/producer and co-conspirator of Interdimensional Transmissions: “People won’t come if they have to pay more than ten dollars, or maybe fifteen. [This] works against us because it means we can’t bring a lot of artists here because their flights are too expensive. I can’t bring a three-person live act here, because we can’t buy the plane tickets on ten dollars a head.” In many ways Motown prefers to stay in its own little bubble of beats. What’s ‘popular’ doesn’t matter to Detroiters, and they don’t devour the media endorsements du jour, so growing an organic following is key. Take, for example, Eddie C. By visiting consistently, playing exceptionally, and making personal connections along the way, he has found his way into the city’s top tier. If you want something in Detroit you have to earn it – especially respect.

Living among so many legends and constantly playing to peers sets the standard in Detroit incredibly high. Most would rather see a local, who they probably know personally and have faith will slay it every time, than pay more for someone they’re less familiar with. Golf Clap, resident DJs at the Grasshopper Underground, frequently enjoy a livelier throng than the headlining artists they open for. Last October they had the crowd going crazy, but when the headliner, the Berlin’s excellent Claptone, came on, he struggled at first to command the room’s attention.

Says BMG, who co-runs local label and promotional group Interdimensional Transmissions, “To even be considered OK in Detroit means you have to be better than good. The skill level is ridiculously exceptional here.”

Despite the fact that a single night recently forced a choice between Marco Faraone, Monty Luke, Theo Parrish and Matrixxman, many Detroit partygoers still feel their scene is lacking. Although a number of venues exist, most close at 2am. For a town of hard-to-please purists raised on raves, that’s a tough pill to swallow. But no matter the hardships or obstacles they face, Detroiters will always find a way to dance through the darkness and into the dawn.