I have been informed that London Loves, the Soho-based indie disco I ran with a gaggle of friends, started in June 2004, suddenly quite a long time ago.

The definitive history of London Loves has already been written, in the form of Denny’s fanzine article celebrating our 10th anniversary back in 2004.

The only thing that’s dated from that is the idea the Crossrail station that replaced our dancefloor would have a ticket office.

Oh, and also the blog we used to promote the night. Though I stand by my list of the worst bands ever.

Denny concludes the retrospective by saying “it taught us not to do it again”, but this wasn’t a lesson I learned.

I’m still promoting nights, still putting on gigs featuring MJ Hibbett, and still getting my hair cut on Dean Street, across the road from the ruins of our former venue.

The Nellie Dean pub is no longer queer-owned, and the infamous lesbian club Candy Bar is now a “Gentlemen’s Club”.

But if you linger on the escalators taking you to the train line named after a dead racist, you may hear the spirit of Rick Witter, singing that ghostly song…

“It’s time to burn this disco down…”