Rave from the grave: Finger In A Matchbox - 1990

When it comes to youth culture, my home town of Wakefield hasn’t really had any great nights of musical significance. Ok, so Rooftops and Casanovas dabbled in a little bit of early acid house 88/89 and played its fair share of 90’s rave stuff, but it was never really going to compete with the Hacienda, was it? Especially when you’d hear Brothers in Rhythm – ‘Peace and Harmony’, next to ‘Stop’, by Erasure. (Oh, don’t worry, I remember the DJ and he will be punished in this life or the next!) Well, there was the Orbit (the Ossett original) which pushed the boundaries somewhat. There were a few big nights there, but I want to go back before then. We’re talking pre - Criminal Justice Act, when you could get away with anything… (well not quite). There was a night that the citizens of Wakefield may have long forgotten. A night that stuck two fingers up at all the old fuddy-duddies and the old bill. A seminal moment in time, where the city of Wakefield grew balls and stood tall. A night that made it into the National papers for all the wrong reasons. A night where only two records got played, but it was still electric!

It’s time to go back, way back, back into time. The date, 16th June 1990. I knew nothing about what was going to happen that night. It was just me and a few select college mates enjoying a pint in the packed back room at Hennery Boons pub in Wakefield town centre. Suddenly into my hand was thrust a small photocopied piece of paper (see reference). I was interested. Very interested. On it there was the words and picture stating ‘Finger in a Matchbox’. I was informed that it was a rave, happening tonight in my home town that night. Within about 10 min, the pub was considerably emptier. The mission now was to get transport to the meeting place which we were informed was Woolly Edge Services on the M1 motorway. College friend ‘Glen Saxton’ just happened to have his parent’s car that evening, so we were sorted.

Many were not and so decide to flag down taxis, or anything with 4 wheels to get to the rendezvous point. With the latest dance mix tape loaded in the Rover’s cassette player, we floored it to Woolly Edge. The car park was a sea of hooded tops and open car boots kicking out the latest beats. The rave had attracted faces from all over. You knew there were guys from Manchester there because their speakers were louder and their mix tapes were far superior. After half an hour of heightened car park hysteria, someone got a phone call, and the night was ON! A convoy made up of hundreds of packed cars set off on a wild goose chase around Wakefield, the destination was the secret location of ‘Horbury Lagoon’. Well, the organisers thought it was secret, but unfortunately the ‘filth’ had known about it well in advance. (Big Mistake No.1).


Anyway, the convoy wound its way around the streets of Wakefield, eventually finding its way to a back road not far from Thorns Park early in the morning. 300 cars then proceeded to park bumper to bumper, blocking the road. Thousands of rave heads began filtering down a dirt track only to end up at a tunnel under a railway line. Here there were several hired nutters with pitbulls asking for £5.00 entry fee. £5.00! They were having a giraffe! I and a hundreds more took our chances and ran over the railway lines and headed towards a motorway bridge. What a sight. About a thousand party people packed under the bridge. A flat back truck loaded with speakers and a generator. (Ah, the generator. Put this down as mistake No.2). Some turkey had forgotten to bring a starting handle to get it going. Shabby! This held up proceedings for about 2 hours. Someone had to knock up a council worker and pay him £100.00 to come down and start the bloody thing. But start it he did.

DJ Huggy put on his first record. The legendary ‘Hardcore Uproar’ by Together. As the Star Wars inspired intro rang out just before dawn, a massive cheer went up. The party had begun. But while a thousand party people went wild, the pigs moved in. I think Huggy got a bit of his second tune in before the needle was scratched off and filth appeared on top of the motorway bridge. Seeing what was going down, I decided to do a runner down a dirt track. Unfortunately coming the other way were several coppers with dogs. I thought it best to go back and join the crowd, who by this time were stoning the coppers. Widespread anarchy would best describe the situation. Eventually, giving up and getting nicked seemed like the best solution. As the arrested party organiser stood on the motorway bridge flanked by two coppers, he turned to the crowd and punched the air. The guy next to me shouted f-off, as I recall. There was anger that the party had been quashed so early. Now came the searches. The sniffer dogs were loving it as each one of the thousand odd people had to pass through a copper check point. But incredibly most of the people weren’t nicked. Shear weight of numbers and a lack of prison cells had saved us. Some weren’t so lucky and found themselves shipped of to available cells around the region for a night of gurning behind bars.

By morning the BIGGEST mass arrests the UK had ever seen at that point were recorded. As the car we came in had been pushed into a ditch by the pigs, I had to rely on my purple and pink Kickers for the journey home. But what a night it had been. Even though I had a lot of explaining to do to my parents as this one was all over the news. Was it a failure? Yes. Was it anarchy? Most definitely. Looking back on it now, it set me on my way to feeling excited about dance music, wanting to experience more clubs and be a true DJ superstar myself. For those who were there. They’ll know what I’m talking about. For those who were not, here ends the history lesson.