Watergate – It Was Never About Being Inclusive
In a city world-famous for its clubs, one of the oldest and most significant venues is closing down.
Every run-of-the-mill journalist is now writing about how great this place was and the cultural losses its closure brings. What the world doesn’t need is another article looking into Watergate’s history to showcase its role in the Berlin scene.
True, new sounds were invented here, and various DJs started their careers before becoming unimaginably famous. But all that doesn’t capture the club’s spirit. Because, in it’s essence, the club is just four walls with a big sound system, cool lights, and people going wild.
At Watergate, people danced, fucked, got wasted, and for a night (or longer) forgot the world around them.
It’s been over 10 years since I first stepped onto the legendary Waterfloor. One of the big three: Berghain, Tresor, Watergate.
The location: iconic. The booking: genre-defining. The people: effortlessly stylish. Is it wrong that I wanted to get in here as a teenager?
I remember my first visit on a Wednesday. Only the lower part of the club was open. A loud bar with the finest house music. Boo Williams was playing. Loud clapping: the snare. Pressure in the stomach area, rhythmic, animating: the kick.
That first Wednesday was everything I had ever imagined. I was hooked from the start. Usually alone, with the sole intention of hearing the music I loved on a big sound system and dancing to it. But the more I returned to the dancefloor, the more I started paying attention to the other guests. The urge to belong to this scene grew within me, but how?
The techno scene is usually associated with dark, messed-up basements. Not here! Located on the River Spree with large windows facing the water, the vibe was totally different. One of the first clubs in Berlin to become bright in the morning. Inside, it looked more stylish and high-end than what you knew from other bunkers.
The crowd reflected this too. The atmosphere was… “Berlin Posh”. At first glance, people seemed pretty stuck up to me. Cliques that had formed and just seemed too cool for someone like me. All guests appeared so confident and experienced. They quickly got into conversations, made connections, and flirted with each other. I, on the other hand, was by far the youngest. Shy and easily overwhelmed.
Being in the club doesn’t mean you’re IN. While most of my classmates were struggling to get past the bounces, behavior in the club was something I had never talked about with anyone. School functions as its own little microcosm. When you leave it, you’re confronted with interacting with people who have no obvious similarities to you. I wasn’t properly socialized. Time to start from scratch!
At first, I didn’t even dare to look people in the eyes or smile at them on the dance floor. With each visit, this desire grew stronger. Step by step, I melted. First eye contact, then short conversations while waiting at the bar. Later, longer chats on the sofas, the first compliments while passing, a flirt here, a brief touch there. Dancing together, kissing, exchanging numbers, and maybe even seeing each other again during another night. Regardless of whether romantic or friendly in nature.
I wanted to know who the others were dancing next to me under the LED sky
What’s summarized here in one paragraph was actually the result of years of weekly visits. Every small step was a personal success for me. Sometimes, I thought about a particular evening for weeks. Of course, there were also plenty of setbacks. Nights that just didn’t flow causing me to go home with a feeling that I could never belong.
The only thing that motivated me in such moments was the staff at Watergate. Berlin’s door policy is too often characterized by arbitrariness and arrogance. The security at Watergate, however, consisted of people who shook your hand, remembered you, and were open for a quick chat before heading home. Now and then, an additional stamp was pressed, or the bagcheck wasn’t so thorough. These interactions always gave me a feeling of being welcome. Even if the actual evening was a letdown.
Through the staff, it still felt like I was in my home base. No matter where else I went in Berlin, I rarely experienced such an accommodating team at any other place.
This motivated me to come back, and Watergate developed into my very personal playground. But it wasn’t until I moved away from Berlin that I understood how much those experiences from the club had enriched me and shaped my character. The scenario of being alone, the knowledge of how to approach new people, start conversations, and find like-minded individuals—unconsciously, I had taken the first steps towards what I always admired in other guests.
It was precisely this seemingly “posh” crowd that helped. It wasn’t the picture-book promise of inclusion that the techno scene is known for. At Watergate, I was shown that to belong, I had to work for it. Again and again, I stepped out of my comfort zone and learned that the first impression shouldn’t paralyze me. That there are always people you’re on the same wavelength with. You just have to look for them. But also that it’s not bad to face rejection, as long as you’re not afraid of it.
It’s important to take the higher ground and bring the spirit you identify with.
During the club’s last days, I often met other guests who shared a similar story. You could tell right away that this experience connected us. They were happy to engage in small talk, seemed more relaxed and open than others. It turned out that they, too, used to go to Watergate many years ago. They told me why they liked coming here and how their 20s were shaped by the place. Always with a nostalgic smile on their face.
Too many journalists try to define the value of such institutions solely through music and DJs. Unfortunately, they forget how many guests, after 22 years, call such a club their living room. Here, character traits were formed, and people got socialized. Here, friendships were forged, love relationships began, and young generations were prepared for the future.
Watergate has shaped its visitors, and it’s heartbreaking that it’s over, especially at a time when such analog places to come together are needed more than ever. But just like us guests, club culture has evolved too.
Thanks to the security, bouncers, cloakroom clerks, bartenders, runners, cleaning staff, night managers, technicians, bookers, residents, and thanks to the founders who made this Dancefloor on the Spree legendary! Thank you, Watergate!
