So today I found out the Cockpit was shutting down for good.
Going to the Cockpit feels so closely tied in with moving to Leeds back in the summer of 2007, exploring a massive new city and hearing You! Me! Dancing! everywhere we went. Friday nights there were just the best, absolutely rammed with a perfect atmosphere. Fridays at work always seemed to drag a little too long if I knew that's where I was ending up that night.
So many great gigs were seen there. Off the top of my head...Patrick Wolf, The Go! Team, Lykke Li, Metronomy, Maccabees, Ladyhawke, Gruff Rhys...it was the perfect mid-sized venue to catch someone just before they got huge or a rare show in a smaller setting.
It was also home to Ice Cream, the long since gone queer night that used to take up Thursday evenings. Ice Cream was the first place I felt confident and comfortable enough to chat up guys. It didn't always go well, but it was the first steps that count. One of my favourite ever stories to tell came from this night...
Me and Ward walked into the toilets to see a Well Fierce drag queen putting on her finishing touches. "Is this the blokes?" Ward asked. She turned to us and said, in a voice that could not have been more deep or Yorkshire, "waddaya think???". And off she went. I'm almost definite this actually happened.
On the walls of the bar were framed tickets from early gigs by acts who went on to be massive. The White Stripes, Amy Winehouse, Queens of the Stone Age, that kind of thing. I always hoped to catch a show there that ended up behind the glass, and I did. Last time I went there, on display was a ticket from the Foals gig in 2007.
The last time I went there. It was some time last year, a Friday night that is usually rammed. The biggest room was shut, only populated by coat racks. and the other rooms never touched capacity. Something felt like it had gone wrong a while ago. I never made it back to see if things improved.
I could go on about Why Don't People Want To Dance These Days, about the rise of wood panelling, craft beers and pretentious snacks in Leeds nightspots, but there isn't much point. I doubt those kind of places will last 2 more years, let alone 20.
The Cockpit hosted nights out that forged new friendships, nearly ended old ones and everything inbetween. A sweaty little cave with no phone signal and the worst smelling toilets. It will be missed.
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