The 100 Club (London) – A Northern Soul Institution
The 100 Club in London is one of the world’s most iconic live music venues – from its jazz origins in the 1940s to its legendary status in the Northern Soul scene. Tucked beneath Oxford Street, this humble basement club played a pivotal role in shaping and sustaining Northern Soul culture beyond its northern birthplace. It has hosted decades of music history, and by the late 1970s it became a crucible for rare soul music, dance marathons, and a devoted community of soul fans. This in-depth look traces the 100 Club’s journey: its early years as a jazz and R&B hotspot, the rise of the 6Ts Rhythm & Soul allnighters that made it Northern Soul’s southern stronghold, the electrifying atmosphere on its dancefloor, the DJs and records that defined its sound, live soul performances that lit up the crowd, its influence on fashion and friendships, relationships with other famed venues like Wigan Casino, and how the 100 Club’s Northern Soul legacy endures to this day.
Early History as a Jazz and Live Music Club (1942–1970s)
The 100 Club’s story begins during World War II. On 24 October 1942, a London jazz enthusiast named Robert Feldman started a regular swing music night in the basement of a restaurant on 100 Oxford Street 2 . It was called the Feldman Swing Club, and it quickly became a haven for American GIs stationed in London who loved jazz and jitterbug dancing. In an era when many establishments banned jitterbugging, the Feldman Club embraced it – US servicemen introduced the wild jitterbug dance moves to the club’s floor, astonishing the British crowd 4 . Big-name musicians often dropped in; bandleader Glenn Miller even visited and auditioned a young British talent (Victor Feldman) in those early years . Throughout the 1940s and ’50s, the club (sometimes known as Feldman’s Jazz Club) hosted a who’s-who of jazz: swing and bebop luminaries from the US – Art Pepper, Benny Goodman,
Ray McKinley and others – as well as Britain’s top jazz artists like Ronnie Scott and Johnny Dankworth
. Black musicians from across the Commonwealth were welcomed too, making it a pioneering multiracial music space for its time 7 .
In 1964, the venue was rechristened the “100 Club”, a name taken from its address that it has kept ever since 1 . By then, its management had passed through hands including famed trumpeter Humphrey
Lyttelton’s manager (during which even Louis Armstrong played there) and club promoter Ted Morton
8 . Under manager Roger Horton, who took charge in 1964, the 100 Club diversified beyond pure jazz
8 . It became a hub for the exploding London R&B and rock scene: the club hosted the mod stylings of groups like The Who and The Kinks in the 1960s, as well as electric blues and ska nights 9 . Through the 1970s, the venue continued to champion new musical movements. Notably, in September 1976 it held the “100 Club Punk Special”, a two-day festival that included the Sex Pistols, The Clash, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Damned and more – an event that cemented punk rock as a subculture
10 . Regular reggae sessions (with acts like Eddy Grant and The Mighty Diamonds) also featured in the mid-70s 9 . In short, by the late ’70s the 100 Club was known for its eclectic live music heritage – from jazz to blues to punk.
Amid this diversity, 1979 would mark the start of a new chapter: the club would soon become home to Northern Soul all-nighters, bringing the sound of rare American soul records and all-night dancing to the heart of London. Little did anyone know that the 100 Club was about to help carry an “underground” soul movement into a new era, and eventually achieve an unrivaled longevity in the scene.
Northern Soul Comes to the 100 Club: The 6Ts Rhythm & Soul Nights
By the late 1970s, Northern Soul – a music and dance scene devoted to rare 1960s soul – was largely centered in the English Midlands and North. London had a smattering of soul clubs, but nothing on the scale of Wigan Casino’s famous all-nighters. In 1979, two London-based soul fans decided to change that. Ady Croasdell, a Yorkshire-born DJ/record dealer who had been a regular at Wigan Casino, and his friend Randy Cozens, an original London mod from the ’60s, joined forces to create a new club night in London 11 12 . They dubbed it the 6Ts Rhythm & Soul Society (often stylized as “6T’s” – a play on “60s”). The goal was simple: Randy wanted somewhere to listen to great soul music in London 12 , and Ady shared the vision of bringing the Northern Soul ethos to the capital.
The first 6Ts event took place on Saturday, 17 August 1979 in a function room called Henri’s at the Bedford Head pub in Covent Garden 13 12 . It was an instant success. Soul fans and mod revivalists from all over the South (and even further afield) traveled in – attendees came from places like
Worcestershire, North Wales, the South Coast and beyond to experience this new London soul night
13 . The DJs on that inaugural night included a mix of veteran soul DJs and younger enthusiasts: Terry Davis (whose Wednesday soul night at Hammersmith had recently ended, sparking this venture), Ian Clark, Tony Rounce, Tony Ellis, Barry Qunnell, and Randy Cozens himself 14 . Notably, Ady Croasdell did not DJ at first – he focused on organizing – but he was the behind-the-scenes engine of the operation 15 . The music policy at these early nights was a blend of classic Northern Soul oldies and 1960s R&B/club soul that had been overlooked at mainstream Northern venues. In essence, the 6Ts Society was merging the mod soul vibe (think of the Tamla Motown and Stax dance tunes Mods loved) with the rarer Northern Soul records beloved in places like Wigan. This formula attracted a healthy crowd, including many young members of the late ’70s Mod Revival scene who were eager for authentic soul sounds.
Over the next year, the 6Ts Rhythm & Soul night moved around London, building its following. They spent a couple of months at the Railway Club in West Hampstead, using an upstairs room called the Starlight Ballroom 16 . (Ironically, that space – Klooks Kleek – had been a rhythm & blues club in the ’60s, and the Railway’s basement “Moonlight Room” had hosted Northern Soul nights in the early ’70s where DJs like Mick Smith spun for a handful of diehards 17 ). The 6Ts crew carried on the tradition, even launching one of the first soul club mailing lists: they sent out humorous newsletters before each event to keep fans informed and foster a sense of community 18 19 . As the reputation of the night grew, the promoters arranged one-off dances at various venues – Notre Dame Hall in Leicester Square, the Horseshoe (near Tottenham Court Road), and the 101 Club in Clapham, among others 20 – essentially “spreading the gospel” of Northern Soul across the city’s venues.
In late 1980, Ady and Randy finally secured a date at the 100 Club, that centrally located basement on Oxford Street which they rightly thought would be a perfect home base. The first 6Ts night at the 100 Club took place on a Friday (20 February 1981) 19 . At the time, it was a regular evening event (8pm-2am or so), not an all-nighter, and Fridays at the club were beer-soaked and bustling. Still, the venue’s character was ideal. “It’s situated in London’s famous Oxford Street and is a compact, no-frills basement club with a capacity of 350,” wrote one observer – “grubby, quirky, dark and very hot, but [with] loads of character and atmosphere.” 21 The 6Ts nights at the 100 Club quickly took off. The team continued to send out monthly membership newsletters (now with artist Ian Clark drawing clever flyers to include in the mailings) which helped maintain a loyal following and “give a sense of togetherness” to the growing soul crowd 19 . After a string of successful Friday soul sessions, it became clear that the 100 Club and the 6Ts Society were a match made in heaven.
However, an unexpected twist came a few months in – the 100 Club’s management decided to start their own regular Friday rock night, meaning the 6Ts had to give up the Friday slot 22 . Rather than retreat, Ady Croasdell negotiated a bold alternative: they would hold a monthly Saturday all-nighter after the club’s usual live gig hours. Essentially, once the regular jazz or rock show finished around midnight, the 6Ts crew would take over the 100 Club from 1:00 AM until morning, turning it into an all-night Northern Soul dance venue 23 24 . The club owner, seeing a chance to double his takings in one night, agreed – and thus the 100 Club’s Northern Soul all-nighters were born. On 24 October 1981, the 6Ts hosted their first all-nighter at the 100 Club (coincidentally, exactly 39 years to the day after the club’s jazz opening in 1942) 25 . The significance wasn’t lost on the scene: London now had its own regular Northern Soul all-nighter, something previously associated almost exclusively with the North/Midlands. These all-nighters would go on to become the longest-running Northern Soul all-nighters in the world 26 , a record still unbroken.
At first, the music at the all-nighters continued the 6Ts formula of mixing uptempo Northern Soul with some ’60s R&B and club soul tunes, especially in the early hours 27 28 . This sometimes caused debate among the DJs and attendees – a few Northern purists felt that the grittier R&B tunes didn’t “fit” with the stomping Northern Soul vibe 28 . That debate was actually a microcosm of a long-running tension in the wider scene (echoing the old Blackpool Mecca vs Wigan Casino musical split of the mid-’70s, when some DJs introduced modern and R&B sounds). In London, the 6Ts crew initially leaned toward a broader soul palette. But as the all-nighters gained popularity, more and more hardcore Northern Soul fans (the type who had grown up dancing to 100-mph soul stompers at Wigan or the Blackpool Mecca) started attending. Before long, the balance shifted to a pure Northern Soul approach deep into the night. Ady Croasdell recalls that with the addition of a few key DJs and the influx of avid dancers “by mid ’82 we were a full-blown Northern Soul all-nighter” 28 .
One memorable anecdote from the early days illustrates the clash and eventual fusion of styles: Keb Darge, a young Scottish DJ/dancer who had moved to London in 1979, was a self-professed Northern
Soul fanatic not initially sold on the 6Ts’ R&B inclusions 29 . Keb admits he would attend the 6Ts nights but hang around the DJ booth “grumbling at the lack of proper northern being played.” Along with fellow DJ Mick Smith, Keb even started a short-lived pure Northern soul night in West Hampstead in 1979 to satisfy the craving for fast stompers 30 . When the 100 Club all-nighters launched, Keb was hopeful that more Northern tunes would be featured – but at the very first one, he again found himself and a few exWigan Casino regulars pestering the DJs to pick up the tempo 31 . As Keb recounts: “I remember clear as day towards the end of the night Mick Smith saying on the mic ‘what the f is wrong with Northern anyway,’ he then played Lennis Guess – ‘Just Ask Me.’ What followed was a rush to the floor by seven wild jocks (ex-Wigan dancers) and a throng of young mods standing around, jaws on the floor watching the fancy dancing.”* 31 That single moment – the explosive reaction** to an uptempo Northern Soul record – essentially converted the London mods into Northern Soul believers. Keb Darge even organized a coach trip to take a bunch of these newly enthusiastic youngsters up to experience Wigan Casino’s all-nighter before it closed (Wigan’s final night was in September 1981) 32 . By 1983, Ady Croasdell formally brought Keb Darge into the 100 Club DJ lineup, effectively greenlighting a full embrace of the classic Northern Soul sound at the all-nighters 33 . From then on, the 100 Club all-nighters hit their stride: fast-paced soul stompers booming from the speakers, dancers spinning and kicking up talcum powder, and that unique London mix of original mods, soul veterans and fresh-faced converts all losing themselves in the music until dawn.
The 6Ts All-Nighters: Atmosphere, Dancefloor and Crowd Experience
Once the 100 Club began its monthly Northern Soul all-nighters in 1981, a distinctive atmosphere took root that regulars still rave about decades later. The setting itself played a big part. The 100 Club is a basement venue – “compact, no frills… grubby, quirky, dark and very hot” in the words of one attendee, but with “loads of character and atmosphere.” 34 The dancefloor was not huge, but it was wooden and well-worn, perfect for the smooth dance styles of Northern Soul. On all-nighter evenings, as midnight approached, you’d descend the narrow stairs into a room already pulsing with excitement. The walls were adorned with the club’s simple red-and-white 100 logos, and the stage (usually set up with instruments from whatever band had played earlier) now stood empty except for the DJs and their turntables. The air would quickly turn humid with the body heat of hundreds of dancers. In true Northern Soul tradition, many carried talcum powder and sprinkled it on the floor to create a slick surface for dancing (one could often see little clouds of talc kicking up underfoot). By 2:00 AM, the floor was typically dusted white in patches, and the sight of dancers sliding and spinning through the haze of powder and cigarette smoke – sweat-darkened shirts clinging to them – was something to behold.
Caption: Northern Soul dancers lose themselves on the 100 Club’s dancefloor (London, early 1990s). Athletic moves like high kicks, spins and flips were common as the crowd danced in sync with the pounding beat. The talcum powder visible on the floor was sprinkled to help shoes glide smoothly 35 .
The dance style at the 100 Club was every bit as athletic and expressive as at its northern counterparts. Boys and girls alike performed acrobatic moves: spinning on one foot, dropping to do the splits or knee slides, executing high kicks and backdrops (back flips onto the hands). Many wore loose-fitting trousers or classic baggy Oxford bags pants to allow freedom of movement (and perhaps to pay homage to the Wigan Casino fashion), along with comfortable flat-soled shoes or boots for grip during spins. Top dancers, like Keb Darge in his heyday, became quasi-celebrities on the floor – circles would form around anyone who pulled off particularly flashy moves. But the atmosphere wasn’t one of competition so much as shared joy. Dancers clapped for each other and swapped steps. A newcomer attempting a spin for the first time would often get encouragement or a quick informal lesson from a veteran.
Despite being in the heart of London’s bustling West End, the 100 Club all-nighter crowd felt like a tightknit community. Many regulars addressed each other by nicknames, and it was common to see the same faces at every event – the front-door staff checking your membership card, Ady Croasdell himself often manning the entrance to greet people, and familiar dancers staking out their favorite spots on the floor. There was a record bar in one corner (by the stage) where collectors like Mick Smith might be selling rare soul 45s to avid buyers during the night 36 37 . At either end of the long room were bar counters; typically only one was open during all-nighters, but it was enough to keep the crowd hydrated (or caffeinated) through the wee hours 38 . The DJ booth was usually just a table on the stage with decks – nothing fancy, but somehow that made it better, as fans could walk right up and peer at the labels on the records being played (unless they were cover-ups, which were mysterious records with the labels concealed to keep other DJs from identifying the tune!).
The feeling in the room often reached euphoric heights. One photographer, Elaine Constantine, who documented the Northern Soul scene, described walking into the 100 Club in the early ’90s: “I remember going down those stairs into that dark basement and seeing those shadowy figures moving energetically in sync with each other… It was obvious the scene had gone further underground… the records more obscure and the attitude on the dance floor as fierce as ever.” 35 Indeed, there was an intensity to the 100 Club nights – a sense that this crowd of 200-300 people was utterly dedicated to the music and dancing. The all-nighter format (typically 11pm or 1am start until 7 or 8am) meant that only die-hards bothered to come in the first place, and they danced with a passion as fierce at 5:30 AM as at 1:00 AM. When a particularly beloved track came on – say, an anthemic chorus or a powerful beat drop – you’d hear whoops of recognition, see dancers throw their hands up, and sometimes a surge of even more people squeezing onto the dancefloor. Circles of friends would join hands and dance in rings, or line up to perform synchronized steps (a throwback to the old “slide” routines at Wigan). Strangers hugged each other when a DJ played their favorite song. It was common to see tears of joy or nostalgia on some faces during especially meaningful tracks.
And yet, the 100 Club was also down to earth. It had the familiar, slightly gritty charm that Northern Soul veterans knew from venues like Wigan Casino. For example, the bathrooms (the “bogs”) at the 100 Club were notoriously basic and could get pretty grim as the night wore on – but as regulars joked, they were “nowhere near as bad as the infamous Wigan bogs” 38 . In true Northern Soul fashion, no one came to these clubs for luxury or comfort; they came for the soundtrack and the soul family. As the sun came up over Oxford Street on a Sunday morning, dancers emerging from the 100 Club’s black doors would often be drenched in sweat, talc on their clothes, feet aching and hearts full. Many have described that moment – walking out into the early daylight after an all-nighter – as almost spiritual, a satisfaction that you danced all night and shared something special with everyone there.
One record in particular became an unofficial theme song for those dawn moments at the 100 Club: Spooner’s Crowd – “Two in the Morning”. It’s an instrumental that DJ Ian Clark loved to spin in the late-night hours. As Ian put it about the club’s magic, “one 45 stands out, capturing the club atmosphere, Spooner’s Crowd, Two In The Morning on Cadet… it takes you there!” 39 . When that mellow, hypnotic track played near the end of an all-nighter, couples would often slow-dance or the crowd would gather in a circle, savouring the camaraderie of the night. Those are the kind of goosebump moments that made the 100 Club all-nighters legendary.
Resident DJs and Personalities of the 100 Club
A huge part of the 100 Club’s Northern Soul legacy is the roster of DJs and promoters who shaped its sound. At the core was Ady Croasdell, the founder and organizer who, as many will attest, “ran the club almost single-handedly” for decades 40 . Ady wore many hats: promoter, DJ, and also a driving force in the record industry (he became the head of Kent Records’ soul label). His deep knowledge and unending quest for rare soul music set the tone. Ady decided the musical direction by carefully selecting resident DJs who shared his vision 40 . He maintained the old Northern tradition of breaking new sounds – meaning he encouraged DJs to unearth fresh discoveries (unreleased acetates, obscure 45s) and mix them into the sets alongside beloved oldies 41 . This balance kept the 100 Club nights from ever becoming mere oldies reunions; they were living laboratories for Northern Soul, where you might hear a classic like “Out On The Floor” one minute and an exclusive new find the next. Ady’s efforts earned him immense respect – regulars speak of him with “warmth, affection and respect” for being the steady hand and passionate ambassador behind the scenes 42 . At the start of each all-nighter he could usually be found at the door, greeting attendees, and later in the night behind the decks spinning a set of his own. Croasdell’s contribution is so significant that he was inducted into a Northern Soul Hall of Fame in 2014 for “Outstanding Contribution” to the scene 43 .
Randy Cozens, the co-founder of the 6Ts, was the other driving personality in the early years. Randy was a true London Mod original – he had been collecting soul records since the ’60s and famously once wrote a passionate letter to Blues & Soul magazine listing his top 100 soul records, which helped spark the idea for starting the club 44 45 . At the 6Ts nights, Randy acted as a host and also DJed. He had a cheeky sense of humor (he’s the one who nicknamed Ady “Horace” after their Market Harborough connection, a moniker Ady even used in sleeve notes 46 ). In the very beginning, Randy was as active a DJ as anyone, spinning his share of favorites. After the move to the 100 Club, Randy eventually retired from co-promoting (around 1982) due to other commitments 47 . But he remained an influential presence and selector, DJing at the club for years and always contributing his enthusiasm and record knowledge. Many credit Randy’s original vision – “he wanted somewhere to hear great music” – as the seed that grew into everything that followed 12 .
As the all-nighters took off in the early ’80s, a team of resident DJs solidified. One of the most influential was Mick Smith. Mick was a bit older than Ady and had been involved in the Northern scene since the late ’60s – he actually sold records at Wigan Casino in the ’70s (in the famous record bar there) 36 . Known for his sharp wit and incredible record collection, Mick Smith became a cornerstone of the 100 Club DJ lineup. He is often remembered for “reactivating” forgotten soul tunes and giving them new life at the club 48 . “The 100 Club gave me a chance to play some underplayed oldies and reactivate some things like Vicki Labat – ‘Got to Keep Hangin’ On’, The Differences – ‘Five Minutes’, and Walter Wilson – ‘Love Keeps Me Crying’,” Mick noted, referring to three 1960s soul records that he helped make popular again by spinning them at the club 48 . He was also adept at finding completely unknown records. In one instance, Mick acquired a mysterious 70s soul acetate from a UK record dealer (John Anderson of Soul Bowl) and played it under the made-up name “Eric Lomax” at the 100 Club – the crowd loved it so much it spread to other venues, and when the track was eventually identified as Lil Major Williams’ “Girl, You Hurt Me”, it became a nationwide Northern Soul hit 49 50 . Mick Smith’s knack for combining classic Northern Soul anthems with fresh discoveries was pivotal in maintaining the club’s credibility. He once said “the longevity of the 100 Club in my opinion is down to Ady… getting the unreleased stuff via Kent and also getting Butch on board playing the super-rare records… people come because they can hear records no other venues are playing. Just like the old days, when we travelled to hear exclusive sounds that only one club had.” 51 This philosophy – exclusive new sounds – truly set the 100 Club apart.
In the mid-1980s, as mentioned, Keb Darge joined the DJ roster. Keb brought not only his DJ skills but also his dancer’s perspective and infectious energy. After initially pushing for more uptempo northern tunes, he became the go-to guy for high-octane sets. Keb’s residency at the 100 Club (lasting into the late ’80s) saw him introducing records that became fast favorites. He eventually left London in 1988 (selling much of his record collection during a divorce) and moved on to other projects – but before leaving, Keb made a crucial recommendation: he suggested that Ady replace him with a then up-andcoming DJ known simply as Butch 52 .
Butch (real name Adam Buttenshaw, though few use it) took over Keb’s spot around 1988, and his impact was monumental. If Northern Soul had cratedigger heroes, Butch was one of them. He had a reputation as “the man with the golden ear” for finding insanely rare soul records that no one else knew about, and for spinning unreleased acetates or demos that left dancers in awe. As soon as Butch started DJing at the 100 Club, he began to wow the crowd with these “wow, what is that?!” tracks. This injection of fresh material kept the hardcore dancers coming back month after month 51 . By the early ’90s, Butch was a regular headliner at the all-nighters, and he remains so to this day. It’s not an exaggeration to say that some people traveled to London specifically to hear Butch’s latest finds, which often would only be played at the 100 Club for a period of time (until they inevitably leaked or were released). This exclusivity helped the club maintain its legendary status even as decades passed.
Aside from the big names, the 6Ts all-nighter DJ roster featured many other important figures. Ian
Clark (“Clarky”) has been synonymous with the 6Ts since the start – he DJ’d at the very first event in 1979
15 and was still playing sets well into the 2000s. Ian was known for his up-front personality (often donning red spectacles) and for spinning a solid mix of classics. He also created artwork for the club’s newsletters/flyers, contributing creatively beyond the turntables 18 . Pete Widdison was another early DJ (he was there in 1979 and had also been a Wigan Casino dealer alongside Mick Smith 36 ). Roger Stewart joined in the early ’80s when the all-nighters started 52 , as did Dave Greet and a DJ nicknamed Taffy (who initially had been Mick Smith’s record-selling partner) 52 . By the late ’80s, Val Palmer became the 100 Club’s first female Northern Soul DJ, breaking a barrier in what had long been a male-dominated DJ world 52 . Val’s inclusion was important symbolically, and she was known for her impeccable taste in soul ballads and mid-tempo winners which added balance to the uptempo frenzy.
Heading into the 1990s, the core lineup evolved to include Ady, Mick Smith, Ian Clark, Butch, Val, and two younger DJs known as “Irish” Greg and Shifty 53 . As time went on, some of the older guard (Ian, Val, Greg, Shifty) retired from DJing, and a new generation stepped up. After 2000, names like Keith Money, Joel Maslin, and Tomas McGrath were added as resident spinners 53 . They had grown up as fans and dancers at the 100 Club and now got the honor of playing their own sets there – a testament to the continuity of the scene. On top of the residents, the 6Ts all-nighters have always featured guest DJs from all over the country (and world). Many famous Northern Soul DJs from other venues have guested and described it as a “rite of passage” to DJ at the 100 Club. For instance, the 6Ts 21st Anniversary all-nighter in 2000 featured Richard Searling – the renowned Wigan/Mecca DJ – as a special guest, his first set at the 100 Club in a decade, which was heavily promoted on the flyers. Such guest spots symbolically bridged the 100 Club with other soul scenes.
It’s clear that the collective effort of these DJs and organizers made the 100 Club what it was. As Ian Clark reflected on the 40th anniversary: “40 years is a long time… who would have ever thought it would last the decades… thanks to the likes of us, intelligent DJing… and some crackin’ tunes, we all did it justice. So many fond moments… we were all in the right place at the right time. Ady and Randy had the vision and found a cracking venue… 100 Oxford Street… Ady created a magical world beneath London’s most famous street and folks loved it.” 54 55 In many ways, the 100 Club’s Northern Soul legacy is a story of these dedicated individuals as much as it is of the venue itself.
Iconic Records Synonymous with the 100 Club
No Northern Soul venue would be legendary without its signature records – those tunes that become anthems within its walls. The 100 Club, thanks to its policy of mixing classics with rare discoveries, has amassed a treasure trove of such tracks over the decades. In fact, starting on the 5th anniversary in 1984, Ady Croasdell began pressing a special limited 100 Club Anniversary 45 each year – giving them away to attendees – featuring favorite discoveries of the DJs 56 . By 2009, there were thirty of these coveted singles, many of which are now highly sought-after by collectors 56 57 . These records, along with other big tunes regularly spun at the all-nighters, form a list of 100 Club classics. Below are some of the most important records associated with the venue (many of them featured on those anniversary singles 58 ), each championed by the club’s DJs and embraced by its dancers:
- “Hey Stoney Face” – Mary Love: An upbeat, previously unreleased 1960s track by Mary Love that became a 100 Club anthem. It was so beloved that it was pressed as part of the club’s anniversary series 58 , ensuring everyone could have a copy of this once-rare gem.
- “The Magic Touch” – Melba Moore: A soaring soul dancer by a young Melba Moore. This record’s pounding beat and uplifting chorus made it a surefire floor-filler at the club 58 . Dancers would recognize its opening notes and cheer.
- “You Don’t Want Me No More” – Major Lance: A classic Chicago soul stomper on the Okeh label. In the early 6Ts nights, more and more Northern sounds like this began creeping into the sets – this Major Lance track being a prime example 59 . Its popularity at the 100 Club signaled that London could groove as hard to Wigan-style oldies as any northern venue.
- “This Man Wants You” – Wally Cox: A driving uptempo track with powerful vocals, originally from 1965. Virtually ignored until the 1980s, the 100 Club DJs turned it into a monster. It’s now synonymous with the all-nighter scene 60 – when Wally Cox sings “I need you…” the 100 Club crowd hits the dancefloor en masse.
- “(Putting My Heart Under) Lock and Key” – Sharon Scott: A Motown-styled banger recorded in Detroit, featuring Sharon Scott’s energetic vocals. This was a long-time Northern Soul favorite that found renewed life at the 100 Club. Its stop-start rhythm and catchy hook “You better stop!” never fail to excite dancers 61 .
- “Love Is Gonna Get You” – Peggy Woods: Gritty, fast, and furious – Peggy Woods’ voice on this track can raise the hairs on your neck. It was unearthed and popularized by the 6Ts DJs in the 1980s 58 . A true scene record, it exemplifies the raw, rare soul the club nurtured.
- “Ain’t That Good Enough” – John Edwards: A joyful uptempo soul tune with a swirling melody. John Edwards (later of The Spinners) recorded this in the late ’60s, but it wasn’t a big record until the Northern Soul scene picked it up. It became a staple at the 100 Club all-nighters 61 , representing the modern discoveries of the ’80s era.
- “You Only Live Twice” – Lorraine Chandler: An extraordinary example of the 100 Club’s impact – this song was an unreleased 1967 recording, a soulful reimagining of the James Bond theme. Ady Croasdell and the Kent Records team found it on a master tape, and when it debuted at the club, it blew everyone’s minds 61 . Lorraine’s dramatic delivery and the novelty of the song made it an instant classic. Eventually released on vinyl via a 100 Club anniversary single, it’s now considered one of Northern Soul’s great finds.
- “Just Ask Me” – Lenny Curtis (Lennis Guess): A pounding dance track with a distinct staccato rhythm. Famously, as recounted earlier, when DJ Mick Smith spun this record (often attributed to Lenny Curtis, though recorded by Lennis Guess) at the first all-nighter, it sparked a frenzy on the floor 31 . That moment essentially “broke” the record in London. Ever since, “Just Ask Me” has been a revered oldie, always getting huge reactions at the 100 Club.
- “Got to Keep Hangin’ On” – Vicki Labat: A mid-60s New Orleans soul treasure that was relatively unknown until Mick Smith started playing it at the 100 Club 48 . It’s a mid-tempo dancer with a catchy bassline. By reviving it, the 100 Club crew gave the song a second life – it became a favorite for when the pace needed to dip slightly without losing energy.
- “Five Minutes” – The Differences: Another 60s rarity, with sweet group vocals over an upbeat harmony soul track. Mick Smith likewise championed this at the 100 Club 48 . The lyrics “five minutes to showtime” and its urgent beat made it perfect for peak moments. Once underplayed elsewhere, it’s now on many Northern Soul compilations thanks to its exposure in London.
- “Love Keeps Me Crying” – Walter Wilson: A classic stomper from 1966 with powerful horns. This was played at Wigan Casino in the ’70s but fell out of favor – until the 100 Club DJs resurrected it in the ’80s 48 . The 100 Club crowd’s love for it proved that a great record can always make a comeback. Today it’s regarded as an essential Northern Soul track again.
- “If I Could Only Be Sure” – Nolan Porter: A smooth, mid-tempo soulful groover. By the late ’80s and ’90s, this song became an anthem not just at the 100 Club but across the UK soul scene, beloved by Mods and Soulies alike. Its inclusion here is for the way it often ended all-nighters on a mellow, happy note – a sing-along favorite when everyone’s arms would be around each other. • “This Will Never Do” – Eddie Holman: A lesser-known track by Eddie Holman (famous for “Hey There Lonely Girl”). “This Will Never Do” is a pounding dancer with Holman’s falsetto soaring – the kind of record the 100 Club DJs introduced to a new generation. It exemplifies the club’s penchant for finding fresh songs even by well-known artists.
- “Good News” – The Hytones / “What’s One More Lie” – Milton Bennett / “Get to Steppin’” – Jackie Day: (Grouping these final three) These were all obscure tracks that first circulated through the 100 Club’s anniversary singles in the 2000s 62 . “Good News” (a Motown-esque number), “What’s One More Lie” (a dramatic soul ballad-turned-dancer), and Jackie Day’s funky “Get to Steppin’” were embraced by the faithful as new classics. They demonstrate that even after decades, the 100 Club was still breaking new sounds** and adding to the Northern Soul canon.
(The above are just a selection – the full list of 100 Club hits is far longer. In fact, many of the club’s anniversary giveaway singles – from Peggy Woods and Lorraine Chandler to Debra Johnson and The Magicians – have themselves become sought-after collector’s items, proving how influential the 100 Club’s DJs have been in spotlighting incredible soul music 58 62 .)
Live Soul Performances: Stars on the 100 Club Stage
Northern Soul is primarily a DJ-driven scene, centered on rare records rather than live acts. Even so, the 100 Club did, on special occasions, host live performances by original soul artists, creating truly memorable moments for those in attendance. These performances were usually tied to anniversary celebrations or special one-off events rather than the regular monthly all-nighters, but they have become part of the club’s lore.
One of the most notable appearances was by the late Barbara Acklin. Acklin was a 1960s soul star (known for hits like “Love Makes a Woman”) whose records were staples on the Northern scene. In the 1990s, she was brought over to the UK and performed at the 100 Club. Fans packed the venue to hear her – imagine hearing that silky voice live in such an intimate basement! By that time, Acklin was older and, sadly, her voice wasn’t as strong as in her youth (some recall that she struggled on certain high notes) 63 . But none of that dampened the crowd’s enthusiasm. When Barbara Acklin launched into “Am I the Same Girl”, the audience helped her along, clapping to the beat and singing the chorus. It was a joyful, poignant scene: a dancefloor full of soul fans who had grooved to her records for years, now cheering on the real person in front of them. As one attendee put it, just seeing Barbara Acklin at the 100 Club was “soul history in the making,” a moment of connection between artist and fans decades after the songs were recorded.
Another cherished memory is Hoagy Lands’ performance. Hoagy Lands was a cult favorite singer on the Northern circuit (his tune “The Next In Line” is a treasured oldie). In the late ’90s, Hoagy Lands was invited to sing at a 100 Club anniversary night. He, too, was past his prime vocally – descriptions note that “he patently [couldn’t] sing anymore” by then 63 – but the importance of having him there outweighed any vocal imperfections. When Hoagy crooned his ballad “Baby Let Me Hold Your Hand,” many dancers stopped dancing and gathered at the front of the stage, applauding and offering encouragement. After his set, Hoagy reportedly mingled with the crowd, shaking hands and soaking up the appreciation from devotees who never dreamed they’d see him perform live.
These live showcases often had a profound emotional impact. There is a special kind of reverence reserved for the original artists in the Northern Soul scene – they are seen as heroes who created the magic in the first place. So when they appeared at the 100 Club, the atmosphere could turn electric. People who normally might be flipping through record boxes or chatting at the bar would suddenly be pressed shoulder-to-shoulder facing the stage, straining to catch every note. It forged a tangible link between the vinyl and the human artistry behind it. Some artists delivered on the expectations – for instance, singers like Tommy Hunt (of the Flamingos, and a Northern Soul solo star) gave impassioned performances at the club in later years, still hitting impressive high notes well into his 70s. Others, like Acklin and Lands, struggled vocally but were buoyed by the goodwill of the audience. Either way, the crowd responded with love. Even a famously tough record critic like Tony Rounce admitted he’d been underwhelmed by some of these aging soul stars’ vocals, yet he and others in the audience always respected them – clapping, dancing, and celebrating the fact that they were there in person 63 .
Aside from American visitors, the 100 Club also saw live performances by UK-based soul acts. Local soul bands and singers sometimes played warm-up spots at anniversary events. And in the 2000s and 2010s, with Northern Soul’s profile rising again, the club has hosted full concerts by singers like Eddie Holman and Dean Parrish during soul weekends. These shows tend to draw both the older Northern Soul crowd and new fans, uniting generations. A notable example: in October 2017, the club put on a night headlined by Tommy Hunt (by then in his 80s) – a testament to the enduring appeal of these artists and the club’s commitment to honoring them.
In essence, the 100 Club’s live performances added an extra dimension to its Northern Soul heritage. While the all-nighter dancers didn’t need live music to have a good time, when the stars aligned and a soul legend stepped onto that small stage, it created a living bridge between eras. For a few songs, time would stand still: it might be 3:00 AM in 1997, but you could close your eyes and imagine it was 1967 at the Torch or the Twisted Wheel, hearing that very singer in their prime. Such moments are precious. They remind everyone why they fell in love with this music in the first place – because of the incredible talent and soul of the artists who sang these songs into existence. The 100 Club gave those artists a platform and gave the fans unforgettable nights to cherish.
Fashion, Friendship and the 100 Club’s Influence on the Scene
Northern Soul has always been as much about a subculture as about music – with its own fashion codes, dances, slang, and camaraderie. At the 100 Club, this culture thrived and evolved, influencing countless enthusiasts since the early ’80s.
Fashion: In the early 6Ts era (1979–81), many attendees were young mod revivalists, so the dress code often reflected 1960s mod style: sharp suits, skinny ties, button-down Ben Sherman shirts, and polished loafers or brogues for the guys; smart dresses or vintage-inspired outfits for the girls 64 . The mod influence meant you’d see tailored jackets and even the odd parka draped on a chair. As the allnighters took hold, practicality and classic Northern Soul attire started to dominate. By the mid-1980s, a typical male dancer at the 100 Club might wear baggy trousers (for ease of movement – sometimes vintage Oxford bags or track pants), a polo shirt or vest (often emblazoned with a soul slogan or club name), and a pair of well-worn dance shoes (thin-soled bowling shoes or leather brogues that could glide on the talc). Females often opted for circle skirts or loose slacks and comfortable flats or kitten heels, eschewing high fashion for sweat-friendly gear. Of course, there were always those who dressed to impress in full mod/skinhead regalia – think two-tone tonic suits, braces, and trilby hats – especially on special anniversary nights 65 . Photographs from the 100 Club in the 1990s by Elaine Constantine show lads with short-cropped hair, Fred Perry shirts and Levi’s jeans, dancing alongside others in tank tops and athletic wear56†look 0 155. It was a real mix of styles, but individuality was encouraged. One constant accessory was the ** sew-on patch**: many dancers had denim or canvas tote bags covered in patches from various soul clubs (Wigan Casino, Cleethorpes Pier, Stafford etc.), proudly displaying their pilgrimages. The 6Ts Rhythm & Soul Society had its own patch and logo, and you’d spot it on jackets and bags – a badge of belonging to the 100 Club crew.
Friendships and Community: From the beginning, the 6Ts Society fostered a sense of family. The membership cards and mailed newsletters weren’t just practical, they made people feel part of something 19 . If you were a 6Ts member, you had a literal card to show for it, and at events you’d meet others who subscribed to the same little scene. The result was deep and lasting friendships. Regulars often recount how they “grew up” at the 100 Club – they might have started going as teens or 20somethings in the ’80s and kept attending into middle age, alongside the friends they made on that dancefloor. There are stories of couples who met at the 100 Club and later married; of people who became roommates or travel buddies after striking up conversations in the record bar; of entire “soul families” who carpooled to every all-nighter and weekender together. Because the events were monthly, it was like a reunion each time – you’d catch up with your soul friends about life, share new mixtapes or records you found, maybe celebrate a birthday at 2 AM with a chorus of “Happy Birthday” over the club’s sound system. The lack of alcohol (relatively speaking – many stuck to soft drinks or coffee to stay alert) also meant the social scene wasn’t about getting drunk; it was about the music and each other. This forged strong bonds not clouded by barroom dramas. People looked out for one another – if someone was overheating, a fellow dancer would fetch them water; if someone’s car had trouble getting home at dawn, a convoy of others would make sure they were okay. Over time, the 100 Club crowd developed a reputation for being knowledgeable and welcoming. Newcomers who ventured in – perhaps a curious soul fan from abroad or a younger London kid drawn by the mystique – might have felt intimidated at first, but they soon found mentors and friends among the veterans. As one regular noted, the 100 Club crowd are “exceptionally receptive to records that are ‘going big’ at their club… The 100 Club doesn’t suit everyone… but those it does, it hooks for life” 66 . The shared passion created its own inclusivity: if you loved the music and respected the scene, you were embraced as part of the family, regardless of age, race, or background. It wasn’t uncommon to see a 20-year-old London student dancing next to a 50-year-old ex-Wigan Casino veteran – and the two swapping phone numbers to trade records later.
Influence on the Broader Movement: The 100 Club’s impact on Northern Soul culture at large has been profound. When it began in 1979, Northern Soul’s “golden era” venues (like the Casino and Mecca) were winding down. Some feared that the soul scene might fade out in the ’80s. The 6Ts all-nighters proved otherwise – they effectively kept the flame burning through the 1980s and beyond. By hosting allnighters continuously into the 1990s and 2000s, the 100 Club set an example that the Northern Soul scene could survive generational turnover. It attracted the Mod revival youth early on, then later the acid jazz crowd, then even some Britpop-era kids curious about vintage sounds, constantly injecting new blood into the scene. In doing so, the 100 Club helped Northern Soul shed its purely “Northern” identity and become a truly national (and international) scene. Soul fans from Europe, Japan, and the US who came to London would often put the 100 Club on their itinerary, spreading its reputation globally. Musically, as discussed, the club’s DJs introduced scores of rare tracks that then got circulated to other DJs and dancefloors. For example, when Mick Smith broke Lil Major Williams’ song under a fake name at the 100 Club, within months that track was being played at other soul nights in England – a ripple effect starting in London 49 . Similarly, many unreleased Motown tracks or rare soul cuts first played at 100 Club later appeared on compilation albums or got official releases (often via Ady’s work at Kent Records). This curatorial influence cannot be overstated: the 100 Club broadened the repertoire of Northern Soul by continually digging up new old songs. It also reinforced the culture of collecting and exclusivity. In the ’70s at Wigan, DJs like Russ Winstanley had exclusives that fans would travel to hear; in the ’80s and ’90s, it was Ady and Butch at the 100 Club holding the hottest new finds 51 . This kept that competitive camaraderie alive in the scene – spurring other DJs to go find their own rarities, which overall pushed Northern Soul forward with fresh discoveries.
Fashion-wise, the 100 Club also served as a bridge between eras. Younger attendees picked up style tips from older ones (how to sew a patch on properly, where to buy baggy trousers in London, etc.), ensuring that the unique look of Northern Soul did not die out. At the same time, the London influence meant a bit more trendiness mixed in – you might see someone in a 6Ts all-nighter T-shirt paired with stylish streetwear. This blend has shown up in media and pop culture; for instance, fashion brand Fred Perry has featured Northern Soul-inspired collections (sometimes even shooting lookbooks at the 100 Club). The club scene was and is a visual inspiration for how to dress retro-cool yet ready to dance.
In summary, through style, camaraderie, and musical leadership, the 100 Club has been a linchpin of the Northern Soul movement. It nurtured an entire generation (or two) of soul fans in the South, many of whom went on to run their own soul nights, DJ at events worldwide, or simply continue as lifelong ambassadors of the scene. Walk into the 100 Club on any all-nighter today and you’ll see 60-year-olds who danced at Wigan Casino in their teens right alongside 25-year-olds who discovered Northern Soul via YouTube – all dancing together. That unity across age and geography is part of the 100 Club’s legacy: it kept Northern Soul alive and evolving, rather than preserved in amber.
Rivalries and Relationships with Other Northern Soul Venues
The Northern Soul scene is often defined by its legendary venues – each with its own loyalists and lore. The 100 Club, being a late entrant (starting in the ’80s), might have seemed an unlikely challenger to the great all-nighter venues of the North. Yet it not only joined their ranks; it outlasted them all. Its journey intertwined with those of Wigan Casino, Blackpool Mecca, The Golden Torch, and others in fascinating ways, marked more by camaraderie and continuum than conflict.
Wigan Casino (1973–1981): Arguably the most famous Northern Soul venue, Wigan Casino was the benchmark against which others were measured. Located in a vast old ballroom, it hosted thousands of dancers every week – over four million visits in its 8-year run, and a capacity around 1,200 (about four times the size of the 100 Club) 67 68 . When the 100 Club’s all-nighters began in 1981, Wigan Casino was literally in its final days. Many of the 100 Club’s early adopters had Casino pedigree – Ady Croasdell and Randy Cozens themselves were Casino regulars 11 , as were Mick Smith and Keb Darge. So rather than rivalry, there was a sense that the 100 Club was picking up the torch from Wigan. In fact, on Wigan Casino’s very last night (19 September 1981), a group of London soul fans traveled up – including Keb and a crew of young 6Ts recruits – to experience it and pay respects 32 . They returned even more fired up to make the London scene thrive. Wigan’s famous DJ Russ Winstanley was supportive of the southern efforts; he even came down to spin at a 100 Club anniversary in later years (as a guest) and acknowledged the 100 Club’s importance in keeping Northern Soul going. Still, some regional pride persisted: hardcore northerners sometimes joked that “Northern Soul in London” was a contradiction, and early on a few skeptics from up north visited the 100 Club just to see if it measured up. Many left impressed. “I felt sure we would get more [real] northern… and [we did],” Keb Darge noted of those early 100 Club nights, implying that by the time Wigan Casino closed, the 100 Club had proven it could generate that same magic 31 . In essence, the 100 Club became a spiritual successor to Wigan Casino, especially after 1983 when it went fully uptempo. It was often affectionately called a “southern Wigan”, albeit in miniature. Dancers who had mourned Wigan’s end found a new home on Oxford Street. Over the years, Wigan Casino’s legacy was regularly honored at the 100 Club – you’d hear Wigan’s three famed end-of-night songs (“Time Will Pass You By,” “Long After Tonight Is All Over,” “I’m On My Way”) played occasionally at anniversary events, and veterans would proudly wear Wigan Casino patches next to 6Ts patches. Rather than rivalry, the relationship was almost parent-to-child: Wigan set the template; the 100 Club carried it on.
Blackpool Mecca (1971–late ’70s): Blackpool Mecca’s Highland Room was another key ’70s venue, known for a more progressive music policy under DJs like Ian Levine and Colin Curtis. The Mecca introduced modern soul and mid-tempo grooves into the Northern mix, causing a rift with purists who preferred the old stompers. By 1979, the Mecca had shifted away from Northern Soul and that era ended. The 100 Club’s early approach – mixing 60s R&B and club soul with Northern – in some ways echoed what the Mecca had done (expanding the boundaries of the genre). This wasn’t lost on people. There was a bit of déjà vu as London’s 6Ts nights in 1979–81 played things like Eddie Floyd or Dobie Gray alongside rarer Northern tracks, akin to how Blackpool Mecca mixed Motown and contemporary Philly soul into their sets. Some of the same debates arose: certain diehards grumbled, just as they did at Blackpool. But ultimately the 100 Club found its balance. In later years, there was a great mutual respect between the 100 Club camp and the Blackpool Mecca alumni. The 6Ts Society invited Blackpool’s famed DJ Richard Searling (who had also played at Wigan) to guest DJ, notably at that 21st Anniversary in 2000 – it was even billed as his “first 100 Club niter spot in ten years… Hear ’em & weep!” on the flyers, a playful challenge
. Searling’s appearance symbolized the merging of histories: here was a northern legend spinning at the southern stronghold. Likewise, Ian Levine – a figurehead of the Mecca – though he moved on to other music ventures, later acknowledged the 100 Club’s contribution in documentaries and interviews, noting that by the ’80s the epicenter of discovery had shifted to places like the 100 Club and Stafford. In the 2014 film Northern Soul, the protagonist’s journey ends with him finding a soul scene in London after Wigan’s closure – an implicit nod to the 100 Club (even if not named). So, the Mecca vs Casino rivalry of the ’70s didn’t resurface as Mecca vs 100 Club; instead, the 100 Club was seen as carrying the inclusive approach forward in a way that ultimately united the tribes.
The Golden Torch (1970–1973): Stoke-on-Trent’s Golden Torch was an all-nighter venue that predated Wigan Casino and set the standard in the early ’70s. By the time the 100 Club came along, the Torch was long closed, but its legacy loomed large. Many Torch-goers had gone on to Wigan, and some eventually ended up at the 100 Club’s nights. The 6Ts Society had a reverence for the Torch era – you would frequently hear Torch-classic records like Dobie Gray’s “Out On The Floor” or The Salvadors’ “Stick By Me Baby” played as honored oldies. The Torch’s star DJs, such as Keith Minshull and Chris Burton, occasionally made guest appearances at 1980s reunion events (some held in London), and the 100 Club crew often participated in those. There wasn’t a direct relationship since the Torch was gone, but the through-line is clear: the 100 Club inherited some of the Torch’s original crowd ethos (a crowd that was passionate and extremely well-versed in soul). By keeping those old Torch favorites alive on its turntables, the 100 Club preserved the continuity of Northern Soul’s history of venues. Ady Croasdell has said that one of his aims was to maintain the “’70s DJing tradition of unearthing and breaking new sounds played alongside oldies” 40 – a tradition that really began at the Torch and Wheel before being codified at Wigan. So philosophically, the 100 Club was the torchbearer (pun intended) of the Torch’s legacy.
Other Venues – Twisted Wheel, Cleethorpes, Stafford, etc.: The Twisted Wheel in Manchester (1963– 1971) was the original mod soul club that started the entire Northern Soul movement. By the ’80s, the Wheel’s legacy lived on primarily through the records it broke (like Rex Garvin’s “Sock It To ’Em JB” and others). The 100 Club paid homage simply by existing – without the Wheel there’d be no Northern Soul culture at all. In 2019, when the 6Ts celebrated its 40th anniversary, they explicitly acknowledged the lineage: “It became a mecca for all soul fans from all over the world… one club that has flown the flag for soul music as high as the Mecca, Wigan and so many others.” 55 The use of “mecca” (small “m”) was a clever double meaning referring to Blackpool Mecca but also meaning a pilgrimage site. Thus the 100 Club positioned itself right alongside those legendary names. In practice, by the late ’80s and ’90s, the major “rival” all-nighters were at Stafford’s Top of the World (1982–1986) and later various UK weekenders (like Clifton Hall, Prestatyn, etc.). Stafford, in particular, was seen as the northern counterpart to the 100 Club in the ’80s – it was where many ex-Wigan DJs (Richard Searling, etc.) plied their trade and new records were broken, much like Butch and Ady were doing in London. Rather than conflict, there was a bit of a friendly competition: who could find the next big tune first? Some recalls from that era say a record might debut at Stafford and then the next week at 100 Club, or vice versa, and fans would excitedly discuss which venue “broke” it. Ultimately, both scenes thrived and fed each other. Dancers would travel from London up to Stafford and from the North down to 100 Club. This cross-pollination ensured that by the 1990s, the Northern Soul scene was truly one big community with multiple focal points – and the 100 Club was firmly one of those focal points, equal in standing to the storied venues of old.
In summary, the 100 Club’s relationship with other Northern Soul venues has been one of continuity and mutual respect. Each of the big-name clubs – the Wheel, Torch, Mecca, Casino – contributed chapters to the Northern Soul story, and the 100 Club built upon all of them. It’s telling that Ian Clark described the 100 Club as “a mecca for all soul fans… [that] has flown the flag as high as the Mecca, Wigan and so many others” 55 . That quote captures it perfectly: the 100 Club earned its place alongside those icons. Any initial skepticism from the “Northerners” faded as the 6Ts all-nighter proved its authenticity. In fact, by surviving into the 21st century, the 100 Club became a living link back to all those legendary spots – one could go to the 100 Club and meet people who danced at the Twisted Wheel in 1968, the Torch in ’72, the Casino in ’75. Few, if any, other venues can claim that. In the end, Northern Soul has always been more about unity than rivalry – united by the love of the music. The 100 Club has exemplified that unity by gathering the tribes under one roof and carrying the soul banner high.
The 100 Club in the Modern Era: Continuing the Northern Soul Legacy
As of today, the 100 Club’s Northern Soul all-nighters are still going strong, maintaining an incredible continuity. They are officially the longest-running Northern Soul all-nighter events in the world 26 – an achievement that few in 1979 could have imagined. Far from being a nostalgia act, the 6Ts Rhythm & Soul Club has adapted and thrived, proving that Northern Soul is truly “for life” for its devotees.
The club typically hosts several all-nighters per year (around four to six, often one per season, plus special events). Each all-nighter still runs roughly 11 PM to 6 AM, with a rotating lineup of trusted resident DJs (Ady, Butch, Joel Maslin, etc.) and occasional guests. The formula of mixing oldies, rare discoveries, unissued tracks, and even a touch of modern soul remains in place – essentially the same music policy Ady described decades ago 69 . And dancers still flock to that 350-capacity wooden dancefloor to do their thing, many with the same athletic moves and enthusiasm of years past. The decor of the 100 Club is famously unchanged; those big red “100” logos on the wall have looked over generations of soulies 70 . Stepping into a Northern Soul night now can feel like a time warp (in the best way): the vinyl is spinning, the floor is dusty with talc, and young folks are learning the kicks and spins from the veterans.
One key aspect of the modern era is the anniversary events. Every September, the 6Ts celebrates its birthday with an anniversary all-nighter, often ticket-only due to high demand 71 . For example, the 44th Anniversary All-Nighter in September 2023 sold out in advance 72 – a testament to how popular these nights remain. These anniversary events are extra special. Ady Croasdell usually digs into the archives to spin some sentimental favorites, and there is often exclusive merchandise like commemorative posters or patches. Crucially, the tradition of the anniversary 45rpm single continues: each milestone year a new limited-edition vinyl is pressed with previously unissued soul tracks (or new mixes) and given to attendees 56 . Longtime fans treasure these records; collectively, those singles are like a musical diary of the 6Ts Club’s journey 57 . Many of the songs on them became big sounds in their own right. By continuing this practice, the 100 Club ensures that even in the era of digital music, Northern Soul stays firmly tied to the romance of collectible vinyl. There’s nothing quite like leaving an anniversary all-nighter in the morning clutching that year’s souvenir single, knowing you own a piece of the club’s history.
The 100 Club also hosts occasional special theme nights under the 6Ts banner. For instance, they’ve done “Early Years” nights focusing on the club soul and R&B that were in the mix in 1979–80 (for those, the timeframe might be 8 PM–1 AM instead of an all-nighter) 73 . They hold an annual Christmas party in December, which is more of a traditional dance (no all-night, maybe ending by midnight) – those are full of festive cheer, a chance for the soul family to celebrate the holidays together. There have been weekenders affiliated with the 6Ts as well: notably, Ady started the Cleethorpes Northern Soul Weekender in the 1990s, which still runs every summer and has become a legendary event in its own right. At Cleethorpes, many of the same DJs and attendees from the 100 Club gather for a two-night extravaganza by the seaside, featuring live performances by American soul artists alongside the DJ allnighters. This indicates how the 100 Club’s influence extends beyond its four walls – it has spawned a network of events that carry the same spirit.
The club’s survival has not been without challenges. In late 2010, the 100 Club faced a financial crisis – rising rents in central London nearly forced it to close 74 . A high-profile “Save the 100 Club” campaign ensued, drawing support from musicians and fans (even Paul McCartney stepped in to help) 74 . Eventually a partnership with a corporate sponsor (Converse) secured the venue’s future 74 . Throughout that tumultuous time, the Northern Soul community watched with bated breath – losing the venue would have been devastating. Ady Croasdell acknowledged that the excellent relationship with the club’s owners (first Roger Horton, then his son Jeff) was crucial in keeping the all-nighters going all those years 75 . Thankfully, the 100 Club survived, and the soul nights resumed uninterrupted. It’s a reminder that while scenes are built on passion, practical matters like money and management can threaten them, and it’s a credit to everyone involved that the 100 Club pulled through. The venue is now protected by an arrangement that likely will keep it around for many years to come.
In recent years, Northern Soul has seen a bit of a mainstream resurgence – from movies like “Northern Soul” (2014) to more young people discovering the style via the internet. The 100 Club, as a result, often welcomes first-timers who learned a few moves off YouTube and want to experience the real deal. Impressively, the regulars have been very encouraging to newcomers. It’s not a closed clique – quite the opposite, there’s a pride in introducing “our thing” to new blood. You’ll see teenagers dancing next to senior citizens, all in their element. Some of the younger attendees bring a fresh energy (and incredible acrobatics!), while the elders bring knowledge and a direct connection to the scene’s roots. The mix is healthy and has prevented the all-nighters from becoming simply reunion events of older fans. As one soul blogger noted after visiting recently: “In many spots, the Northern Soul scene very much rages on. 100 Club, London, 1990s © Elaine Constantine” 76 – emphasizing that even in the 21st century, the vibe at the 100 Club feels as passionate as ever.
The music played has evolved subtly with the times. While the core 60s stompers still reign during peak hours, DJs aren’t afraid to slip in a ’70s modern soul track or an early ’60s R&B number if it fits the mood (something that’s actually always been part of the 6Ts ethic). There’s also more Latin soul and funky edged tracks in the last sets as tastes have broadened – reflective of how Northern Soul devotees have, over time, embraced a wider spectrum of black American dance music (though always with that uplifting beat or melody). Importantly, the quest for new discoveries continues. As recently as the late 2010s, “new old” songs were being debuted at the 100 Club to delighted crowds – proving there are still gems to be mined. Ady Croasdell, in an interview, modestly said he “plays it by ear and lets nature take its course” with regard to running the all-nighter 75 , but in truth a lot of thought goes into keeping it fresh. The enduring attendance numbers show that they’ve struck the right balance.
In 2019, the 100 Club all-nighter celebrated its 40th anniversary – an event that drew massive crowds and even warranted a commemorative magazine with history and anecdotes 77 . DJs and dancers from all eras turned up. Butch and Mick Smith (who DJ’d together for 20+ years) were there spinning alongside the newer faces. The night was emotional – people reflected on how this club night had shaped their lives. One attendee wrote: “For many of the Northern Soul fraternity, the [100 Club] all-nighter has a legendary & iconic status – for some, go further, and see it as a national treasure!” 26 . That sentiment might once have been reserved for Wigan Casino, but the 100 Club has undoubtedly earned it as well.
Now, as the 6Ts approaches 45+ years, its guardians are ensuring it stays true to its roots while embracing the future. The 45th anniversary is set for 2024 (tickets again expected to sell out 78 ), and plans are already being laid for special guests and maybe an extra surprise or two. The fact that in 2024 you can walk into the same basement where Northern Soul fans danced in 1981 – and still find a vibrant all-nighter in progress – is remarkable. It speaks to the dedication of the organizers (Ady often jokes that he might be disorganized, but clearly he’s doing something right 75 !) and the devotion of the community.
The 100 Club’s Northern Soul night has become a London institution in its own right, alongside the jazz and punk heritage of the venue. It has been featured in countless press articles, documentaries, and even tourism guides as a must-see subcultural experience in London. But despite the attention, it remains authentic and underground in spirit. There’s no big neon sign saying “Northern Soul Here”; it’s still that unassuming doorway at 100 Oxford Street, and you descend the stairs into a world apart. It’s likely to continue as long as people love to dance to soul – and given the turnout of both old and young, that shows no sign of stopping.
Conclusion
The 100 Club’s journey in the Northern Soul scene is a testament to passion, perseverance, and the power of music to create a lasting community. What began as an idea by two soul aficionados in 1979 blossomed into the world’s longest-running Northern Soul all-nighter – a “national treasure” of the soul fraternity 26 . In these walls beneath Oxford Street, generations have found their sanctuary: a place to dance until dawn, to cherish rare records, and to form friendships that transcend age and background.
This club has literally kept the faith. When the famous venues of old like Wigan Casino and the Golden Torch passed into memory, the 100 Club picked up the torch and ensured the spirit lived on. It bridged the North-South divide in a way that few thought possible, proving that Northern Soul was never truly about geography – it was about heart. The 6Ts Rhythm & Soul Society nights brought the exact right mix of old and new: beloved classics to trigger memories and fresh discoveries to keep the thrill alive. DJs like Ady, Mick, Keb, and Butch became folk heroes in the scene, not for personal glory but for their role in sharing this sublime music with eager dancers. The club also paid homage to the very artists who made the music, giving a stage to soul legends and letting fans show their appreciation face-toface.
On the 100 Club’s wooden dancefloor, countless stories have unfolded. Teenagers in 1981 who sneaked out to their first all-nighter are now in their 60s, still clapping on the off-beat to the latest discovery. Romance has sparked under the red glow of those “100” signs; life’s troubles have been danced away to the thump of the bass; tears have been shed to haunting melodies at 5 AM, and triumphant cheers raised to spine-tingling vocals. The club became a microcosm of what Northern Soul is about – music, dance, camaraderie, and a sense of belonging. It influenced fashion (you can spot a 100 Club dancer by the talc on their shoes and the patches on their bag), and it cultivated a knowledge base of soul music that’s second to none (regulars can tell you the matrix number on an obscure Tamla Motown acetate without blinking!).
Today, the 100 Club’s Northern Soul night stands as a living link between past and present. It’s not a museum – it’s a vibrant, sweat-drenched, joy-filled experience that continues to impact those who attend. Its impact on Northern Soul history is immense: without it, the scene may not have survived the 1980s intact, nor flowered again in the 2000s as it did. Instead, the 100 Club gave Northern Soul a home in each era, adapting and thriving. Many a newcomer has walked down those stairs, heard that first record boom out, and felt a surge of excitement that changed their life – the same feeling people had walking into the Twisted Wheel in 1968 or Wigan Casino in 1975. That continuity is magic.
In the end, the story of the 100 Club is a story of dedication. Dedication by the promoters who never gave up on it, by the DJs who spent small fortunes digging up new tunes, and by the dancers who showed up rain or shine, month after month, because this was their scene. As one famous Northern Soul slogan (and 100 Club favorite song) goes, “It Will Never Be Over For Me.” 79 For the 100 Club and its faithful, Northern Soul will indeed never be over – the beat goes on, the records keep spinning, and the soul night in the basement at 100 Oxford Street continues to make history one all-nighter at a time.
In the annals of nightlife and music subcultures, the 100 Club’s Northern Soul all-nighter has secured its place as legendary – not by burning out in a brief blaze of glory, but by shining on year after year, fueled by pure, passionate soul. And as long as that iconic venue stands, you can bet there’ll be dancers on its floor at 3 AM, living out the credo: Keep the faith.
