Sprawling among the four floors of this labyrinth of dance, the vibrant and hedonistic beats of Sisyphos and Berlin Allstars transported those who braved the sub-zero temperatures to a hot and sticky summer’s night on Haupstrasse.
The disorientating, weaving layout of the former warehouse fused oozing, pulsing beats while six foot, pvc clad transvestites and kids in Reebok classics tumbled down the rabbit hole with equal delight. At its depths, it grabbed you with swirling, tingling and at times brutal frequencies, synonymous with the fortnightly parties in Rummelsberg lifting you closer and closer to the strobe lights flashing across the ceiling.
Perhaps, even better than their sumptuous sounds was the playful and open atmosphere Sisyphos and the Berlin Allstars brought in their hand luggage. Against a poignant back drop of the women’s marches and the spectre of Trumpism, in Egg we were gifted a space to embrace and enjoy our differences.