The last Romo Night

When Romo Night first opened its doors in 1996, it was a modest electronic music club at the student venue Kåren. A few years later, in 2003, it had outgrown its original home and moved to the larger Trägår’n, where it became one of the defining nights out for Gothenburg’s alternative scene.

The very first evening attracted around 250 people. At its peak, that number had grown to nearly 1400. Somewhere along the way, Romo Night became more than just another club. It became a meeting place, a ritual and for many of us, a second home on countless Friday nights.

Over the years I saw an impressive lineup of bands take its stage. Some performances have stayed with me ever since, such as The April Tears, Elegant Machinery and Covenant. Those were the nights when you walked out into the cold morning air with ringing ears, tired legs and absolutely no regrets.

The April Tears live at Romo Night, Kåren 2001.

But here we are. “All good things must come to an end”, as The April Tears put it on the last track of Consume Desire back in 2002. Tonight those words became reality. After eleven years, Romo Night held its final club evening.

The dance floor at Romo Night in 2004.

The decision was sad but entirely unexpected. Attendance had been steadily declining during the past year, a far cry from the packed dance floors of its golden era. We’d already lost SAMA earlier this year, and now another cornerstone of Gothenburg’s electronic scene has disappeared.

Even so, it’s impossible not to admire what Tobbe Eriksson and Tony Ersborg accomplished. Keeping an independent club alive for more than a decade is no small feat.

The dance floor of the last Romo Night, Trägårn 2007.

For one last night, though, none of that mattered. People emerged from their comfortable sofas and ordinary Friday routines to return to the dance floor one final time. Around 1200 visitors reportedly showed up, and for a few hours it felt as though the intervening years had simply melted away. Everywhere I looked there were familiar faces, people I hadn’t seen in months or even years, moving to the same music that had brought us together in the first place.

Clubs come and go. The people eventually drift elsewhere. But every now and then a place leaves enough of a mark that, years later, all it takes is hearing one particular song to find yourself back on that dance floor again. Dead stars still burn.