Docs (it was renamed Melody Bar, but no-one calls it that) is a shabby function room above the Horseshoe pub on Landport Terrace, near the roundabout. The carpet has gaffer tape covering the holes. There used to be a pillar which was bang in the middle-front of the 'stage' area. If you were drunk you would sometimes walk/dance into to it. Or at least I would walk/dance into it. They finally removed that pillar (which had no structural functionality) around two years ago.

The whole building is shaped, funnily enough, like a horseshoe. Docs kind of stops halfway in the middle of the Horseshoe shape. The ladies never has any toilet roll in it. Bands have left graffiti on the wall along the stairs leading up to Docs. The walls are scrawled with rude words and band names. The sound is never particularly brilliant, as the PA is knackered, and if you want anything other than beer you have to go to the bar downstairs. But I love Docs all the same.

I love it when it's packed with fifty people and you recognise almost all of them by sight, even if you don't know their names. I love the fact the old bar manager was a short girl with a Mohican. In fact it seemed you had to have a Mohican to work there as one of the other guys who used to put bands on had a Mohican too.

I love the fact you could get in for £2 and see some bands. Sometimes it would be nippers who've only had two rehearsals, to older scensters in their 30s, to bands that had had a session on John Peel and had been persuaded by the lovely Skif to play there. This is back when Skif had a quiff, I think. It might not have been actually, but I always think of Skif having a quiff and wearing red nailvarnish when he hasn't had a quiff or worn the red nailnarnish for years. It's kind of weird how you still associate certain things with people, long after they've changed their style or moved on.

My favourite Qhixldekx gig was there. The sound was shit, but because of that Qhix tried a hundred times harder to win the audience. And he did. He was brilliant, especially when he told everyone to 'Fuck Off' or something.

Then there was the time we went with D's at the time drummer with his band Reinhardt. The drummer was coke addled, got really pissed, and starting shouting verbal abuse at the singer of the band playing cos they were from the Isle Of Wight. Eventually we steered him out of there, before he got into a fight. Then he had to go back in cos he had left his coat. I always remembering waiting outside, hearing the shouting coming from Docs, the broken glass, and then D's drummer suddenly appearing, running out of the double doors… This was the drummer who later walked out half way through the opening song at a Reinhardt gig, leaving D and Steve on stage staring at one another not knowing what the fuck to do next. Looking back it is funny, at the time everyone was livid. The drummer had managed to get himself thrown out of the venue.

And then there was the New Year's party at Docs. D got really drunk and danced on the roundabout when it was midnight, cars beeping their horns at him as they went past. I was rather sober, and watched from the street slightly embarrassed but still laughing. Every time I pass that roundabout now all I can think about is D dancing on it, absolutely drunk. He doesn't even remember doing it.

Years and years ago there was Tony's birthday party - Screeper played and D's amp lost it halfway through the set, he was scrabbling on the floor trying to sort it out, while myself, Tony, and Steph were at the front singing the words to 'Firebird' as the samples and drum loops were still playing regardless.

Countless Red Letter Day gigs there - and no matter what The Day say themselves, they were always better at Docs. Many memories. Good ones. Funny ones. Bye bye Docs…

Connected fiction: Charades, a fictionalised account of a night at Docs

Pictures and artwork courtesy of Skif and www.vanityproject.co.uk