On The Ground In Berlin, Part Two: Berghain and Panorama Bar

This is it, folks. The modern world's mecca of dance music: Berghain and Panorama Bar. Pretty much anyone in Berlin that I've talked to knows the place, whether or not they're involved in music and whether or not they've actually been inside. One reason might be that in a city with an unemployment rate that is almost twice the rest of the country's average, people see the club and the culture it represents as a force for tourism and therefore the economy. Or maybe they just hear the bass from their apartments.

No matter what, it's been high on my list of things to do since I got here (second only to the Boros Gallery), and so I've taken a couple occasions to check it out, the first about a month ago when Ame and Dixon played on a Sunday night, and the second when Omar S played this past Friday.

The approach to the club is impressive in and of itself. It looks like an old, decrepit power station... because it is an old, decrepit power station. The first time I went, I relied on google maps for directions (something I've learned is not the best idea here), and I ended up wandering a fenced-in area behind the place. It felt dangerous, and there's something exciting about that. How often do you go to a party and feel like you're really venturing into the unknown? In New York, only when you go to a loft party in Bushwick, certainly not when you're headed to the city's most established club.

Once inside, especially when the Berghain section is open (it was closed on the Friday night), the impressiveness of the building remains. It's raw. The ceiling towers above, seemingly all four or five stories up. The decor is pretty much nonexistent, and the concrete and steel is prominent. It lends itself to a feeling of permanent darkness. Even at 11pm on Sunday, it very much felt like late Saturday night, and it seemed like most people still being riddled by techno at that point had been there since then.

Panorama Bar, which sits above the larger room, is a bit more decorated, but still fairly stark. A few pieces of art adorn the walls, but any additional atmosphere comes from tighter quarters. And the quarters do feel tight. Both times I went, dancefloor space was at a premium, and I couldn't really find anywhere to settle in and get my head down for longer than a few minutes without being jostled.

Before I expound on the jostling, let me offer this unofficial poll of friends who live here. The general consensus from Berliners seems to be that Berghain and Panorama Bar "is not the same as it used to be," or that it's more of a place "for tourists" these days. These things tend to be said not with disdain but with an acceptance of things changing, which I think is really important to note. No one that I know is bashing the club. They just realize there are consequences to the popularity that their city and Berghain have gained. People, myself included, are curious; we want to see what it's all about.

So what does being pushed around a dancefloor have to do with this? Well, more people inside means less space, for one. It also means long lines outside, which in turn means longer waits and denials at the door. That can create a funk (not the good kind) that finds its way past the gate. The heavy influx of people from out of town also does something to hurt the vibe. To be clear, I'm not making some diatribe against tourists. I don't speak German, and I'm only here for three months, so I think that makes me a tourist. It's just that when the majority of people in a room don't know each other, even just by face, and if they never expect to see each other again, there's a particular kind of anonymity that can set an indifferent tone. Instead of a feeling that "we're all in this together" – which I think is essential in putting a party over the edge from being another night with a good soundsystem and great music to something truly special – when everyone feels anonymous, the attitude tends to be more like, "we're all hoping everyone else will get out of the way."

Of course this isn't a problem that is particular to Berghain and Panorama Bar. Every place that gains wide interest deals with this stuff, which is not easy when you're trying to make sure you can pay your bills, or even live off the work you're doing. There's a fine line between a perfectly filled room and one that feels anonymous and cold. With the music programming that Berghain is doing, it's easy to tell they care. From these shoes, though, they just need to figure out a way to make sure that, once they're inside, the people that make it through the doors care as much as they do.