02 Jul 2016

Going out and enjoying a city’s nightlife is a rite of passage for many of us. The first Saturday after our 18th birthday we hit the streets with unsteady feet and bubbly anticipation of the good times ahead.

And sure, it’s not always a great night, but for most of us it’s the first of many to come. Nights where we get to know our friends a little more personally than we’d like. Nights when we meet new people and fall in love. Nights where we experiment with our independence and the strength of our livers. Nights when we to blow off some well-deserved steam (and blow all our cash in the process).

These nights are sacred and are sometimes the only thing that keeps us sane through balancing university with full-time work and somehow staying afloat in the current housing market. It might mean skipping lunch every day for a week in order to pay for the drinks that have soared to astronomical prices, but for us it’s worth it.

Or it used to be.

Sydney is not what it once was. With the latest news that Keystone Hospitality Group–owner of 17 well-known bars and restaurants across Australia–has gone into receivership, it would appear that the lockout laws have taken down yet another victim, and a beastly one at that.

Walking the streets of Sydney now, you can see the effects: bars are empty, the popularity of clubs is sporadic, and it takes you around five or more venues (and a lot of time wandering around on the streets, something that the lockout laws are supposedly trying to prevent) before you find one that’s actually populated.

Many of us are discovering that it’s no longer worth the hassle to go out, because more often than not the initial excitement quickly turns to disappointment when you realise the nightclub you once heralded as ‘Old Reliable’ is barely at ten per cent capacity, or worse, has already shut its doors.

And at least I had a chance to have an 'Old Reliable'. There was a brief window of opportunity for me between my 18th and now when I was allowed to enjoy the raucous Sydney nightlife of times gone by. But for those who have only recently or are still to come of age, they may never get a chance.

We are only young once, and it deeply saddens me to think that these kid’s youth could come and go without any improvement on the streets of Sydney. The people who are sitting in the big chairs making these decisions are the ones who have already had their time to be young and wild–so they have no way of understanding what it feels like to miss out.

It’s upsetting that the next generation may never feel the suspiciously sticky carpet of Bar Century beneath their feet, or experience that sense of comradery between friendly partygoers on the footpaths of the CBD. They may never feel the buzzing pride on Oxford Street as they weave through crowds in eccentric costumes and colourful clothing, or taste the euphoric bliss of a kebab at 3am in the morning.

These are experiences everyone should be free to have. And sure, those experiences come with a certain level of risk, but it should be up to us whether it’s a risk we want to take. To have the lockout laws revoked would mean we all have a responsibility keep each other safe, to be respectful of the partygoers around us and to never stoop so low as to resort to violence or abuse. We are all there for the same reason: to have a damn good time, and in that sense we are all equal and deserve to be treated so.

It might not seem like a real problem to a lot of people. When there’s so much bad stuff going on in the world, is a little lockout law really a big deal? Well, it is to me. It is to many others in my generation. It is something we will not give up on, or keep our voices down about. We will continue to bring it up again and again and again.

Because you’ve had your time. Now let us have ours.