I’m from Wigan. Everyone knows this. I bang on about it enough. I’m from Wigan and proud of that fact, not just because home is where the heart is and all that, but because we have a lot to be proud of. When I moved to London in June 2011, I vowed not to lose my roots. I think, largely, I’ve succeeded in this. People say my accent hasn’t noticeably changed, which is the best evidence that I have to prove my upbringing and hometown are still an important part of who I am.
Growing up in Wigan, specifically in my generation, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who hadn’t heard of Wigan Casino. Sadly, this will probably change in the next 20 years as the older generations pass on and the new generations are born further from the Casino’s final days in 1981. But for people like me in their mid twenties, parents and grandparents alike have their stories of the nights spent in Wigan Casino, dusting the dance floor with talcum powder and showing off an array of moves to the thumping beats of soul music. It was this dance floor where my Mum and Dad met.
And there begins my love affair with soul music. It started with my parents and their nights in the Casino. Though Northern Soul ignores a lot of the bigger Motown hits, it is Motown that I remember blasting from our car stereo when me and my brother were kids. ‘Reach Out (I’ll Be There)’ by the Four Tops, ‘Baby Love’ by the Supremes, ‘My Girl’ by the Temptations, the later hits of Lionel Richie and the Commodores… endless songs with timeless beats, vocals that break your heart, music made for the soul. And when I hit my adolescent years, my love for soul music only grew.
By age 17, me and my friends were regularly hitting the clubs and bars down King Street, Wigan. Underage of course, but everyone was doing it. Every Friday night after college, I’d jump on the 113 bus at 7:10pm and head into town. By 10:30pm, the hordes would be squeezed onto the dance floor of the Nirvana club (colloquially known as the Lux, where the original ‘Northern Lights’ night had taken place) for our weekly dose of indie, 60s rock, and glorious soul music. I’m gutted I’ll never be able to relive what my parents’ generation had at the Casino, but being at “Lux” felt something like it I hope.
Since then, I haven’t looked back. I get odd looks when people find out my obsession with Northern Soul music and soul music in all its forms. It’s as if they expect me only to listen to my contemporaries. But Motown, northern soul, Stax, Philly soul… these are ageless genres. When you come from somewhere like Wigan, the culture envelopes you. It’s inescapable. We are proud of Wigan’s place in the history of soul music and I am blessed to have had parents willing to give their kids a history lesson in music.
I’m 25 now. I still look at photos from those Friday nights and reminisce about that wonderful time in my life. I know I’m sounding like it was 20 years ago, when really it was only 8-9 years back, but so much has changed since then and it feels longer. I have rarely visited Nirvana/Lux in the last few years and whenever I have, it’s felt like something is missing and always will be. The Northern Lights night itself has moved around from venue to venue, but it has never quite been able to recapture the vibe and the atmosphere of those nights. But that’s an unavoidable fact of life. You grow up, you move on, you take on more responsibilities and commitments and it’s something we all have to deal with. I still haven’t found a 60s/soul night in London that comes close. But the beauty of soul music, the way it makes me feel – that will always be around. Music that good can never truly die. And the minute I hear the intro to ‘Do I Love You’ by Frank Wilson, I’m 17 again, right back there on that sweaty, overcrowded dance floor in Wigan, with the best friends I’ll ever know, dancing until the wee hours of the morning, half-pint of cider black and a fag in hand. If there is a heaven, I hope it looks a lot like that.
Bright Lights & The Big City 