Outside there's a strange atmosphere, everythings normal, the touts wander up and down, the queue's full of people really wishing they'd heeded their mums advice to wrap up well, and the thud from inside is already audible. It's a party, a celebration, but it also feels like a wake

Foolishly we asked "Is there a doctor in the house?"

It all gets very weird right from the start. Ahead of us on the way in a Hugh Heffner lookalike, with a sheen Des O'Connor would kill for, is leading a group of young women through the VIP entrance. Tonight even if for months it hasn't been, Cream is once again the hottest ticket in town.

Is it really ten years since it all began? And is this really the last time these sprawling warehouses will reverberate to music and high pitched scouse screams?

No, we don't understand it either

Ten years of girls in stillettos risking broken ankles as they totter their way across the cobbles. Ten years of the best club night Liverpool has ever seen. A global brand, a local success story. And now Cream is going out on top with a massive birthday party. They've even written a book about it, surely a film can't be far behind.

"Say cheese and look at the camera...well, 1 out of 2 isn't bad"

Inside it's as hot as it's ever been, and the queue for the cloakroom is as long as it's ever been. Nobody seems to mind though tonight is all about enjoying it while it lasts. There's a sort of 'the devil rides tonight atmosphere'. Balloons fall from the ceiling while Fatboy Slim and almost every other DJ you could think of keep the pulsating mass entertained. Although you get the feeling that tonight, Dave Lee Travis could have been on the decks and still people would have danced. By midnight the queues for the bars are 12 deep, the toilets are open sewers, bodies are already strewn about the place...and it's brilliant. Just like old times in fact.

And it isn't really the end, Cream will return for Boxing Day, and Cream events will continue around the country, Creamfields will go on, but to all intents and purposes tonight is the end of an era. Saturday nights in Liverpool will never be the same, they may be worse, they may eventually be better, but they will be different.

Sweat is such an attractive feature

In a way Cream is a victim of it's own success, it became such a huge name that eventually it's very size and longevity became a millstone. The clubs heyday was probably around 1995, when Spice Boy footballers mingled with clubbers and people were starting to travel from all over the country just to be at Cream. But people move on, they grow up, have kids, settle down, go to dinner parties, and a new generation moves in. One that wants to create it's own legends, it's own favourite clubs. It's own nights.

The Hugh Heffner lookalike is probably a case in point, it's doubtful he'd have been queuing up ten years ago. So Cream takes it's place alongside The Cavern and Eric's as a Liverpool clubbing legend. And it's successor? You could argue cases for Garlands, Chibuku and Society, but in all likelihood the next Cream will be something that doesn't yet exist. But it will come, Liverpool's a party city, it's just that sort of place...


Words: Paul Coslett