Betrayal at Club Low review – a dice-fuelled night on the tiles where everything and anything can go wrong

In my twenties, a night out at the club was the highlight of my week, especially if there was a DJ playing whom I especially loved. I don’t mean one of those gargantuan Ministry of Sound superclubs where you needed a map to find the bathroom. I’m talking about a small, humble neighborhood club with appropriately watery drinks, cool dark alcoves, and a tiny dancefloor where you could work your way into a higher state of consciousness amid a throbbing constellation of moving bodies. I haven’t done that in decades, but tonight I’m bringing it all back for a night out in Off-Peak City – a surreal metropolis filled with anthropomorphic brownstones, hallucinogenic puddles, and some urgent business at the inimitable Club Low.

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