Magnus Asberg (Romana, Club Magnus and On The House Records) It's just gone midnight, and I have been married for around twelve hours. The party's still going strong with most of the guests on the dance floor. I spy something unusual—a small card has been left on every table. "Ahhh," I think, "everyone's been so lovely today, and now here's another whimsical little surprise for us." My wife and I stroll over to see what delights await us now, only to find that the cards aren't cards at all. They are flyers, left there by a DJ, for a tech-house night. The DJ who'd used my wedding for a spot of last minute hype was Magnus Asberg, promoter, producer, and for around 20 years, host of Brighton's only unlicensed secret after hours nightclub, the legendary Club Magnus. Now, after-parties usually go one of two ways. At some you end up getting slowly digested by an unfamiliar sofa, as the same mix tape goes round and round, sat in a room full of ashen-faced strangers determinedly chewing their own faces off. The endless dabs, lines, spliffs, and cans of lukewarm Oranjeboom are less a serious attempt at a party and more like a set of strategies to ward off reality for a few more hours. These are the parties that teach you the vital lesson of when exactly to call it a night. At others, there's barely enough room to stand let alone dance, with each nook and cranny bursting with the kind of vitality that only ever emerges once a communal decision's been made to abandon any hint of regular sensibility in order to commit to a proper weekender.