CRISIS

You descend into the bowels of Rock City and find yourself in something that feels like an abandoned warehouse rave from the '90s. The concrete walls sweat with condensation, the sound system hits you like a physical force, and everyone here actually knows their Surgeon from their Scuba. This isn't where you come to pose or chat over drinks – the bar serves functional pints and spirits to keep you hydrated between the relentless four-four kicks. The crowd is proper committed, the kind who've been following DJs across the country and can tell you exactly why that particular remix hits different at 3am. When Crisis opens its doors, it's an all-night affair that doesn't mess about with commercial nonsense.