At the start of 2014, Weekend was fast approaching its 10-year anniversary, which in club years (a lot like dog years, by the way) is a ripe old age. It was perhaps unsurprising that it had started to wheeze a little—clubber’s cough, you know? But rather than go out on a whimper, they shuttered the place for six months to reconceive, redesign and rebrand. And the result? In a nutshell: boozey backpackers out, VIP clubbers in.
It is not only for those with a PA, however. It’s largely for those who still like four-to-floor but have had enough of their shoes sticking to the floor. It’s for the ‘90s Mitte kids who like club owner Marcus Trojan might have turned 40 now and appreciate the finer things in life too, such as good service and deluxe BBQs say—the likes of which are available each evening on the roof garden, marshalled by Michelin-starred chef Stefan Hartmann. (No need to line your stomach on Alexanderplatz with a grillwalker Bratwurst anymore!)
Two storeys down on the 15th floor, the swanky revamped club gets going at 11pm. The techno and house lineups are still solid and that dancefloor view is still hands-down the best this city has to offer. So even if your spiritual party home is a dank Neukölln basement, the yowzer factor of a high-altitude boogie should not be underestimated. Just leave your knackered Chucks at home.