We partied all weekend to find out what London clubbers think of the Night Tube

In a halo of electric-blue neon, a teen in ‘90s sports-luxe poses for a selfie. Just metres away, another woman is helped off the floor by security while a lad in a button-down and Classics balances his Tyskie in the crook of his elbow as he takes down the deets of a girl he’s just met. For London’s clubbers, this is the underground party we’ve been anticipating. 1 a.m, Brixton tube station: the first night of the Night Tube.

As people file past Brixton station’s latest installation – a Night Tube map rendered in perspex and neon – the atmosphere is jubilant, festive even. Unsurprising perhaps; London’s 24-hour party people have waited quite some time for their city to catch up. For years, we’ve gazed enviously to New York, Copenhagen and Berlin, coveting round-the-clock weekend services and, in the case of Berlin and NYC at least, the flourishing nightlife culture that it facilitates. London, by contrast, may have had the world-class parties down but lacking the transport infrastructure, our nightlife has existed within the wiggle room between exorbitant taxis and shady night buses. If you want a vision of that future, imagine Surge Pricing stamping on a human face, forever. Maybe that’s why London’s 24-hour city claim, like that singular, rubber stamp on an inner wrist, has never quite stayed in place. Can the Night Tube really revolutionise clubbing in London? We topped up our Oyster, donned the shoes we didn’t mind getting splashed in sick and went to find out what the most important part of this city’s night-life economy – you, the partygoers – made of it all on its inaugural weekend.

We begin in Brixton, at the southernmost end of the Victoria line and immediately get swept up in the first night’s party vibe. “We love the Night Tube!" declares 30 year-old Giavanna who lives in Brixton. She’s just made a point of riding the first ever southbound Night Tube, making a bunch of new mates on the way. For her friend Kay – also 30 – the Night Tube is unquestionably a game-changer. ”I think it's going to change everything for me. I can go places that I couldn't be bothered to go to before, when I’d just be like, I'm going to come home early.”

As we chat, another wave of beer cradling early adopters are disgorged into the ticket hall, with one group also claiming to have been on the first ever train. It’s like the Pistols at Lesser Free Trade Hall but with contactless payments. We follow the crowds to Phonox on Brixton Road. Here, as DJ Fett Burger mines a particularly deep vein of house and disco, we get talking to Tom, 25, who works in the media. He's unusual in as much that he lives in central London, but typical in that he likes to go out all over the city depending on his mood and friendship group. "I'm livid that it's taken so long," he says, in between drags of his cigarette. "What really gets me is that this has so much potential when you consider cities like Berlin. The economic situation – it's not that it will boost London by hundreds of million pounds a year, because I think that's an egregiously overstated estimate, but the fact that there are so many central London bars and pubs that are suffering so hard – I think this could turn it. London needs to be able to be, not only the richest city on earth, but the most vibrant.”

By 3 a.m. we’re craving a change of scene. Once this might have meant calling it a night, or worse, a bracing Uber receipt in your inbox the next morning. Now we just have to brave the gauntlet of partygoers, tourists with Delsey cases and the sprawled limbs of the sleeping. Just before our Victoria line train embarks, the PA crackles into life: “Welcome to the Night Tube. If you feel sick, please try to leave the train first.” A slurred cheer goes up from the carriage as a man in a suit begins a chant: “Night Tube! Night Tube!” A girl throws her McDonalds bag and lettuce falls like ticker tape.

Still, our mirth is short-lived. Arriving at the Pickle Factory, we discover a flaw: the last entry 3.30 a.m. At 3:32, we’re left looking foolish but at least we can get the tube back, to Brixton at least.

On Saturday, we hit the Night Tube again, riding it from Tottenham Court Road to Liverpool Street at 1 a.m. It’s only day two, but people are acting like it’s always been here: no more contraband beer, no more easy chats with randos. In the queue for Village Underground, we get talking to two students, Morgan, 19 and Yani, 18. Yani, like everyone we talk to, sees the Night Tube as a force for positive change for London, but has one reservation. “It’s come at an inconsiderate time, what with fabric being closed. fabric is such a huge participator in this,” he says, referring to London’s night-time landscape. Even so, he remains upbeat, “The more transport there is, the more young people can go out and events can be promoted.” But what about on a personal level, do you feel safer riding the Night Tube than a night bus? Morgan is unconvinced. “…ish.” Throughout the night, fabric is a name that comes up almost as frequently as Uber. “Unfortunately, the landscape of clubbing in London is dying,” reflects domain name manager Prudence. “The Night Tube is kind of ironic because there’s going to be no clubs to go to. The Crossrail closing down places like The End, Turnmills… Obviously it will add a new layer, and fingers crossed it will do something to keep fabric open, but when we lose fabric that’s another big tumble.”

Hours later we stagger out of the club, our bodies tenderised by the set of blistering, tunnelistic techno laid on by Donato Dozzy and Peter Van Hoesen, but our hearts feeling a little heavy. As people eagerly pocket the reduced-entry wrist bands for Jaded, you’re left wondering how the next chapter of London raving will play out; the feeling among clubbers is this is more than just a convenient way to get around in our city – it’s a life-line for London itself. Or, in the words of one wide-eyed, rubber limbed raver storming off into the East London night: “Yeah, Night Tube!”

Louise Brailey is a freelance journalist and regular contributor to Mixmag. Follow her on Twitter

Ally Byers is Mixmag's Clubs Editor. Follow him on Twitter