As the club night turns ten, Dazed is granted the first glimpse inside the camera-free community dance party
Everyone who’s been to Love Muscle says the same thing: there’s magic on that dancefloor. The monthly community dance party really is Leeds’ love muscle, the beating heart of its now-thriving queer nightlife scene, and it’s all down to the expansive social role that founder Michael sees the club night performing. “What does it mean to be successful?” he asks Dazed over video call. “The world has this idea that to be successful you’ve got to be globally recognised, but success could also look like the impact you have on the people around you.”
This simple philosophy manifests in each of Love Muscle’s unconventional – and, sometimes, seemingly counterproductive – approaches to party planning. “We have the world’s most convoluted ticketing policy,” declares Michael, explaining how 50 per cent of the spaces are set aside for trans, qtipoc and queer disabled attendees at a discounted rate, and the other 50 per cent being physical tickets that need to be collected from Leeds’ Wharf Chambers venue ahead of the event – a decision he believes has preserved its communal spirit over the last ten years. Elsewhere, the event maintains a strict no-photos policy in order to prevent attendees from being accidentally ‘outed’ online, and has replaced traditional security staff with paid “safe space marshals“ who are on-hand to both de-escalate confrontations on the dancefloor and in the days following.
“Traditional security’s main job description is protection for the venue and the extension of drug laws for the police – none of these things are about the safety of the people within the space,” says Michael. “If somebody’s unwell or someone’s harmed them, we’ll come together as a team and figure out the best course of action, centring the person harmed. Afterwards, if required, we’ll form an accountability circle and [the aggressor] has to demonstrate they’ve done x, y and z before they’re allowed back in the space. These are potentially people who are not very happy and have a lot going on in their lives. If we bring them in more, there’s a greater chance things could turn out differently. Obviously, this depends on the severity of the harm caused and in some cases it may be that the aggressor is no longer allowed in the space, but that should be a last resort.”
These are values that are particularly close to founder Michael’s heart, who founded the event in 2015 after experiencing the unbridled queer freedom of Glastonbury’s NYC Downlow’s early days, and felt that Leeds was in need of something similar. “I came to uni without knowing what real friends were,” Michael recalls. “I was going to a lot of house and techno events, but I was always the only queer person in there. [Through Love Muscle] I’ve found this amazing group of people who really look after each other. This scene saved my life.”
It’s about being able to redistribute cash amongst the queer community and lift people up
The first few months were slow for Love Muscle, but a turning point came six months in when Michael and co-founder Lucy Locket booked NYC Downlow mastermind Gideon to perform at the event. “There was a queue out of the building, all the way around the corner and up the road,” recalls Michael. “It was getting to the point where the queer people who had been coming to the club for the past few months could no longer get in, so we had to go back to the drawing board and think about how we can preserve that space for that group of people. That’s where we came up with the ticketing policy.”
The next few years were full of high points for the tight-knit party circle, but it wasn’t until Covid struck that Michael realised how much of a lifeline the community had become – both for himself and others. “I was unwell, I didn’t realise how much that space meant to me,” says Michael. “When we started back up, I went down to drop tickets off at the bar and there were literally 70 people sat there waiting for me. People had taken the afternoon off work to collect their tickets. We sat there and sold all 200 tickets in half an hour. It was amazing.”
Still, for Michael, the ultimate testament to Love Muscle’s success exists in the queer DJs and club nights it has helped to nurture and inspire. “My proudest moment is Rat Party existing,” says Michael with a smile. “They were kids who became regulars at our night that were inspired to do their own thing, bringing groups of queer people to free parties that you wouldn’t normally see. There’s also an amazing underground drag scene and a fetish night that’s just started. The queer scene in Leeds is thriving; we just unfortunately don’t have the venues to grow and expand.”
Enter Michael’s latest plan: a venue of their own. After ten years at Wharf Chambers, Michael sees the next evolution for Love Muscle as providing a permanent home for both itself and the wider queer community it has fostered. “Having access to the bar will allow us to do so much more,” he explains, hoping to be finally able to quit his day job and focus on community organising full-time. “It’s about being able to redistribute cash amongst the queer community and lift people up.” As always, Michael sees success in social, and not monetary, terms.
Catch exclusive photos of Love Muscle’s tenth anniversary party, captured by photographer Declan Watson, in the gallery above.