Memory sticks: Club keepsakes have a very particular power

But why keep hold of this kind of thing? Why do I have a battered Pacha whistle on my keyring; why is there a DC10 fan in my bag? A big part of it is their tangibility: as soon as I picked up the fan the feel of it in my hand was so familiar, the thirring sound as it unfurled open and the knack involved in snapping it shut viscerally recalled sunny Ibizan adventures, and along with its orange design and DC10 logo it evoked an almost Pavlovian pleasure response.

All this can be taken too far, of course. I’ve got friends who’ve carefully stored away the wristbands and lanyards from every festival, good or bad, they’ve ever attended; I’ve met people whose nightlife allegiances are emblazoned on everything from phone case to gym bag to watch, turning them into walking adverts for savvy brands. In both cases the objects concerned have lost their meaning; instead of memory-jogging keepsakes they’re indiscriminate collections, or worse: transiently fashionable identity props.

To me, the club memorabilia that matters is emotionally charged, totemic; and it retains that charge despite the passage of time because its physical nature short-circuits our logical, linear memory, and taps directly into our ancient lizard brains. My DC10 fan, Pacha whistle and Space lighter are tactile reminders of times gone by, but not forgotten: powerful talismen wrestled back to this world from a parallel universe far, far away.

Melissa Harrison is Mixmag's Production Editor, follow her on Twitter

This feature appeared in the August 2017 issue of Mixmag