Club of the Month: Sankeys (Manchester)

It was dirty. It was sweaty. And it was hidden away in a shady post-industrial wasteland that Derrick May once described as “more fucked up than Detroit.” But those are the things that made Manchester institution Sankeys so great - natural dickhead filters that meant anyone who braved a trip amongst the unlit streets and derelict warehouses of Ancoats, past moody-looking bouncers, knew they were in for a seriously good time. And now, the legend is back.

Nine years after its last and longest closure - there were many micro-shutdowns over the preceding 20 years - Sankeys is open once more. This grand return of a sleeping giant is not about nostalgia. It's a corrective jolt for a scene that has been consumed ever more by bigness: bigger venues, bigger line-ups, bigger screens, bigger social media hype, bigger production. Often, that just means bigger letdowns once the party starts.

"Sankeys always did good music through a good sound system," says Wilf Gregory, who first experienced the club as a teenager back in 1994 and is part of the team behind the relaunch on Sidney Street in the city centre. "It was just about going down, dancing and being part of the moment."

From almost the day it opened, Sankeys became one of the underground's defining venues: sweat dripped from the ventilation pipes inside the 180-year-old Beehive Mill. Tribal Sessions nights became a country-wide pilgrimage, and third-wave acid house heads had a new home. In short, Sankeys carried on where The Hacienda left off while sticking twos up at the gloss and polish of the emerging superclub scene, but with line-ups that were just as impressive: François K, Daft Punk, The Chemical Brothers, Carl Cox, Sasha, Danny Tenaglia and more all played next to homegrown talents like Greg Vickers and Krysko.

The rebirth was first gestated when Wilf, who had once promoted his Metropolis events at the old place, was in a venue run by a business partner. His godson suggested it would be perfect for Sankeys. "I looked around, and I was like, yeah, there's the metal pillars, there's a rawness, the size is right. Can we create that energy?"

The answer was yes, and conversations with Sankeys owner, Dave Vincent, were positive. The party launched at the end of January with some simple rules: no phones, no VIP and no headliners would be announced. Every event since has sold out with both ageing original heads and inquisitive young ears filling the 500-capacity space. Names like Felix Da Housecat, Maya Jane Coles, Solardo, Stacey Pullen, Steve Lawler, Nick Curly, Josh Butler, Heidi, Lauren Lo Sung, Priku, Reboot, Seb Zito, Tania Vulcano and more have played or soon will, with regulars like Pirate Copy, Idris Dee, Kellie Allen, Luca 606 and Krysko anchoring the true Sankeys sound.

Krysko was a dedicated young raver and hopeful DJ when he submitted a mixtape to the Sankeys higher-ups, even before he had been to the club. They were impressed enough to give him a weekly slot that he locked down for years and saw him dubbed "DJ Radiator" by the late, great Andrew Weatherall, because he was "always warming up." His most lucid memory of Sankeys is a "throbbing" night when Laurent Garnier played live on the Phazon sound system, which "to this day, is one of my favourite ever club systems." There were twice as many people inside as was strictly allowed, and ice buckets hung off various bits of ceiling to catch the constant drips of perspiration. "Like the heydays of places like the Hacienda, the ethos was always about pushing new music."

When Krysko got the call to play the new venue, he was immediately keen. "The original Sankeys led so many people into careers in music, and to think it could again when so many places are closing, that could only be a good thing for the city." His one condition was that he wanted to focus on new music rather than nostalgia. "When I spoke to the team, that definitely fit with what they wanted, so I can't wait to be back."

Inside Sankeys 2026, the lighting references the famous old LED ceiling matrix, redesigned with new tubes but rooted in the original concept. Heads are down and vibes are high. There is a pub area attached where people can step out, vape, check messages and talk. On the dance floor, phones are out of sight. "People are self policing,’ says Wilf. "We’ve not had a single person reprimanded for getting their phone out."

The same music, rather than DJ, led philosophy that defined the first Sankeys still shapes everything. "We’re not trying to have a big screen and a big show. It’s more about getting down and dirty. The DJ is just part of the event, they're not the whole focus." 

Unannounced headliners could be a gamble in an era obsessed with information and algorithmic certainty. Yet that uncertainty is part of the appeal. "You don’t need to know who the DJ is because you know the music will be good," says Wilf, who shares booking duties with Vincent, David Bourne, Callum Hughes and Pirate Copy.

Sound, inevitably, is central. Sankeys built its reputation on low-end pressure and clarity. The new system has been carefully tuned, tweaked and tested across genres. The exact brand remains under wraps because "everyone will have an opinion before they even hear it, but just come to the club and tell me, was it loud enough? Was it crisp? Was it clear?" In other words, trust your ears.

Wilf is a veteran promoter who runs global festivals and manages headline acts, but this is deliberately smaller. Initially, the plan is Saturdays only until June. Then a summer pause. "We’re very much just letting it be organic," he says. "We’re not trying to force anything." There is even the luxury of a supportive landlord, easing the financial pressure that so often distorts programming. "If we were chasing money, then we would have a problem. We're lucky that we can just put the music and the experience first.

Check out Sankeys upcoming events here.