For many, life's milestones are marked by homes, jobs, or relationships. For journalist Alex Needham, they are charted by the pubs he frequented, with one Leeds establishment holding a particularly transformative power.
From Childhood Jukeboxes to Underage Goth Nights
Needham's pub journey began remarkably early. His grandparents would take him, at around four years old, to the Sandford Arms in Leeds, where he played 70s hits like Boney M on the jukebox. Another set of grandparents ran a city-centre pub, though his grandfather lacked the typical landlord's cheer.
By the summer before university, he was working in the 'tap room' of his local, the Eyrie. But his true allegiance had already shifted to the Faversham, a huge pub near Leeds University. Around 1990, while still underage, he became a regular. The venue was then a haven for student goths hoping to spot members of bands like Sisters of Mercy. Door staff asked for dates of birth, a tricky question after 'pre-loading' with vodka on nearby Woodhouse Moor, but Needham recalls never being turned away.
The Rave Revolution Hits the Fav
Soon, the pub underwent a dramatic change. The flock wallpaper, dim lighting, and goths' cider-and-black were swept out. In their place came a new sensory experience: thumping house music, video screens showing fractal patterns, projections of lava lamp bubbles, and bottles of K Cider. Rave culture had arrived in Leeds, and Needham and his friends dived in headfirst.
Almost overnight, their style shifted from staring at Dr Martens to dancing in Global Hypercolor T-shirts that changed colour with body heat, creating "fluorescent armpits." The soundtrack switched from indie bands like Curve to the euphoric rhythms of K-Klass.
A Portal to Freedom and Self-Discovery
The Faversham became the launchpad for nights that would end at clubs like the Gallery, the Warehouse, or more adventurous venues in Chapeltown like the West Indian Centre. These spaces, thick with dry ice and pulsating to anthems like Bassheads' "Is There Anybody Out There?," offered an incredible release.
This escape was profoundly personal. Needham's teens at an all-male grammar school, where rugby was compulsory and homophobia rife, were difficult. "By then, I was aware I was probably gay," he notes. But at the Fav and in the clubs, those pressures melted away. The culture was one of "live and let live."
This liberation led to exploring Leeds' gay nightlife, including the "gay rave" Jungle and the camp, mixed-gay party Vague, where nights culminated in pop anthems from Wham! or Madonna. The city itself seemed to be loosening up, with even the frequent post-pub brawls becoming less common.
After heading south for university, Needham only visited the Fav during holidays. On his last visit, it had transformed again, catering to the 'indie sleaze' crowd of the 2000s. But its legacy for him was cemented in the early 90s. The Faversham was more than a pub; it was a refuge from teenage angst and a vibrant portal to excitement, identity, and community, serving up mind-expansion alongside the K cider.
