Closing Fabric Isn't Part Of The War On Drugs - It's Part Of The War On Working People

Anyone who believes the end of London's most famous nightclub is anything but another act of gentrification must be off their head, says Sophie Brown

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The war on drugs was finally won last night when one of London's most iconic nightclubs, Fabric, lost its license and closed amid allegations that use of illegal substances was out of control in the venue.

After two people died at the club over the summer, talk turned to closure as quick as you could say 'MDMA' and now the decision to rob young Londoners of a good all-nighter has finally been taken, all to help save the capital from the scourge of drugs.

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By my estimations then, The Dorchester will be forced to close its doors soon following the recent death of a 38-year-old man from a cocaine overdose in his £2000-a-night suite and TFL will have to cancel all Northern Line services after a former public school boy was photographed doing coke on a tube.

But of course the closure of Fabric is not going to affect the people who can afford to spend a month's rent on a night in a swish hotel or who rack up on their iPhone at rush hour. The closure of Fabric is an attack on the average Joe, the people who work all week to go out clubbing on a Saturday and forget it all, the people who saw the place as both a refuge in a troubling time for live music and one of capital's last true counter culture institutions.

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The point is, London councils can close down as many venues as they like - it isn't going to stop people wanting to take drugs and listen to music together. Getting rid of Fabric might fast-forward the gentrification plans –– keeping the riffraff of the tube on a Friday night when tourists are trying to get back to their hotels from the theatre and helping make sure every building is an artisan pizza restaurant that serves wine in tumblers –– but it's only going to make force people into house parties and illegal raves, where drug testing, regulation and control are even more unlikely.

Closing the clubs is way of councils washing their hands of the drug problem and putting it in the hands of people like me, who just want to get pissed with their mates after a hard week at work in a place where the music is electric and the staff are friendly and everyone is there to have a good time just for one night. A place like Fabric.

I can see myself walking through Farringdon in five years time and spotting a familiar building in the window of the kind of estate agent that charges you £1000 in fees to rent a £1500 a month flat. The advert will read: 'Want to live in a real piece of London history? We're happy to present this stunning brand new purpose built apartment near Farringdon Station with great connections to the City.'

There'll be a 24-hour dry cleaners and a gastropub on the ground floor, where a pint will cost £6.50 and wild boar burgers will be on the menu. People will still be doing coke in the toilets at the weekend, but no one will bat an eyelid, because it won't be Fabric anymore.