INTO THE GROOVE
Cive it to mama!” booms Beyoncé over the heads of a still sleepy Sunday-morning Shoreditch. It’s just gone 9.30am, yet in one corner of East London’s party district things have taken on a distinctly hi-NRG vibe, as the Freemasons remix of ‘Green Light’ thumps through the walls of an undisclosed location. Out on the empty streets, a lone dustcart is doing its best to sweep away the piles of silver laughing-gas canisters left behind by the nocturnal revellers of a few hours ago, and the odd passer-by stops to peer down an alleyway in search of the source of the music. Is it an after-party? An illegal rave? And where’s the entrance?
Welcome to Frame, a dance studio hidden under the railway tracks that curve through the neighbourhood – where the party has only just begun. There are no strobes, no bouncers and no alcohol (though it’s fair to say a few of the participants may be struggling with the
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