Why Leipzig's nights are getting quieter - and that concerns everyone

There are things that make up a city. In Leipzig, it's not just the old buildings with their morbid charm, the riparian forest that meanders through the city like a green heart, or the countless bicycles that seem to be parked on every corner. No, it's also the clubs - these loud, pulsating places that set the rhythm of the city, where you can lose yourself, find yourself or simply forget everything for a few hours. But it is precisely these places that are in danger. Leipzig, once a hotspot of club culture and creative freedom, is gradually losing the very thing that makes it so unique. Welcome to the age of club death. And yes, damn, that hurts!

Sometimes it feels as if we are building a city that is pretty and gentrified, but where nobody really wants to live anymore. Where apartment blocks take the place of dance floors, where clubs lose out to bureaucracy and construction cranes and where every neighbor suddenly mutates into a noise protection officer. And before we know it, the nights here will be just as quiet as elsewhere - except that we won't even know what we've actually lost.

Backgrounds

Leipzig, the fastest growing city in Germany, is booming. Year after year, thousands of people move to the city, attracted by comparatively cheap rents (at least so far), a vibrant cultural life and that hard-to-define "Leipzig vibe" that lies somewhere between alternative free space and a progressive spirit of optimism. Sounds like a success story, doesn't it? But the rapid rise also has its downsides - and these affect the very places that make Leipzig so lively and unique: its clubs.

It's a paradoxical situation: while more and more people are moving into the city, the spaces in which encounters and community can take place are disappearing. Clubs such as the Distillery, the Institut für Zukunft (IfZ) or the Conne Island, which were long regarded as flagships of Leipzig's club scene, are under massive pressure. Where industrial areas or temporary uses used to offer space for creative people and subcultures, sterile new buildings, chic condominiums and shopping centers are now being built. Rents are rising, leases are getting shorter and clubs are suddenly competing with major investors with much deeper pockets. It's not a fair fight - and it's happening right in front of our eyes.

Sure, there are people who think: "So what? Then I'll just go to the theater or cinema when the clubs are closed." We'd love to do that too, but it doesn't work like that. Leipzig's clubs aren't just places where you spend the night and lie in bed with a hangover the next morning. This is where ideas are born that would otherwise find no space. This is where subcultures become visible that need a final retreat in an increasingly uniform world. This is where protected spaces are created in which people find the freedom to express themselves. Topics such as awareness, inclusion and diversity were often discussed and implemented in clubs before they reached the mainstream. LGBTQIA+ parties were already being held there when many others didn't even know what the acronym meant.

Leipzig has always been defined by its creative scene - from the peaceful revolution that began here to electronic music, which also catapulted Leipzig onto the global map of club culture. But what happens when these very spaces disappear? Spoiler: It becomes boring. Sterile. Interchangeable. Then we might soon have the "beautiful city with the creative atmosphere" that is described in every other travel magazine - only without the people and places that created this atmosphere in the first place. Because the creatives, the musicians, the club owners, they often can no longer afford the "beautiful Leipzig". Rising rents and the enormous economic pressure are pushing them either to the suburbs or to other cities. The result? Leipzig is not only losing clubs, but also the very thing that makes this city vibrant: its soul.

The clubs

Leipzig's clubs are in a precarious situation that is often underestimated from the outside. What appears to be a pulsating cosmos of bass, lights and exuberant atmosphere is a constant balancing act behind the scenes between financial challenges, bureaucratic hurdles and social pressure. In a city famous for its vibrant subculture, many venues are struggling to survive - and the question "How can we make it until next week?" is omnipresent. Here are a few current examples:

The distillery - victim of bureaucracy and construction cranes

The "Tille", as it is affectionately known, was not just any club, a place where techno fans from all over Germany felt the bass. And what happened? After almost 30 years, it has to go. Why? Because the site in Kurt-Eisner-Straße is being converted into a smart residential development. Naturally with a chic green space concept and guaranteed "urban flair " - in other words, everything that makes an investor's heart beat faster. The fact that one of Germany's oldest techno clubs has been displaced in the process? No matter. The Distillery fought for a long time. There were petitions, demonstrations and countless attempts to save the location. In vain. Now it is to move to an interim site at the Alte Messe before eventually finding a new home at the "Gleisdreieck". Sounds like a happy ending? Not really. A move is expensive, and whether the Tille will be able to keep its audience in line over the next few years remains questionable. At least we very much hope so!

The IfZ - financial pressure and internal conflicts

The Institut für Zukunft (IfZ) was more than just a club. It was a safe space, a cultural hotspot, a showcase project for safer clubbing and awareness. But even the IfZ could not withstand the economic pressure. The pandemic was the first major blow - months of closures and a lack of income. When the doors finally opened again, 100 to 200 guests per evening were missing. This may sound like "first world problems" to outsiders, but in the club scene it meant economic bleeding. And as if that wasn't enough, there were also internal conflicts. Accusations of discrimination, political tensions within the team and heated debates about the direction of the club. All of this led to the club closing down at the end of the year. A sad farewell for a place that was known far beyond Leipzig. We will miss you!

The Conne Island - between boycott and political pressure

A place for subculture, political discussions and alternative music for decades. But Conne Island is also struggling. The pandemic has torn a huge hole in its coffers, and now there are also calls for a boycott because of the club's political stance. Concerts are being canceled, visitor numbers are falling - and as if that wasn't enough, the city of Leipzig is also threatening to cut funding. The accusation: "Ideologically narrow program policy." A club that has always taken a stand is now being punished for its stance.

Goldhorn - the gentrification classic

Then there's the Goldhorn, THE pub in the east of Leipzig, which has been hit by bad luck several times. First the building was sold, then came redevelopment plans, rising rents and finally the closure. But that's not all: in the summer of 2024, the gas supply was turned off due to "mysterious" circumstances, the roof was covered without notice - and to top it all off, there were arson attacks on the outdoor seating area. Sounds like something out of a bad movie, but it's reality.

Political decisions

When you think it can't get any worse, the political decisions come into play - and suddenly it becomes clear: yes, it can get worse. The problems of Leipzig's clubs that we have just discussed are not just home-made. They are the result of a political patchwork that is so full of holes that you wonder how anyone can do cultural work at all.

Germany-wide cuts: Cultureless into the future

You would think that after the hardships of the pandemic, the German government would finally understand how important cultural institutions are. But no, significant cuts in the cultural sector are due in 2025, and they will hit those who already have their backs to the wall. The six federal cultural funds, including the Music Fund and the Performing Arts Fund, are to be almost halved - from 34.3 million euros to a measly 18 million euros.

The facts look like this:

Funding for cultural and media professionals who have fled? Abridged.

Digitization in culture? Abridged.

Coming to terms with colonialism? Also abridged, of course.

And what's left for club culture? Virtually nothing.

Now one could hope that Leipzig, the supposedly progressive and creative city, would support its clubs better. Although there are initiatives such as the NachtRat Leipzig, which is committed to the interests of nightlife culture, it too has to contend with financial uncertainties time and again. Only recently, the coordination office for night culture was on the brink of collapse because its funding ran out. It was only through public pressure that it was extended for another two years. A small victory after all, but no reason to pop the champagne corks - rather a moment to take a deep breath.

Social changes

So, politics makes it difficult for clubs - okay, we understand that now. But if we're honest, social changes also play a huge role. After all, the death of clubs is not just a question of laws and funding. It is also the result of a society that has changed - and faster than most clubs can keep up with.

Inflation and low purchasing power: dancing or buying food?

The economic reality in Leipzig and eastern Germany in general is one that cannot be ignored. Although cities like Leipzig are growing rapidly here, people's purchasing power still lags behind that of other German cities. And then there's inflation, which forces us all to think twice before spending money. Admission to the club? 15 euros. Two drinks? Another 20 euros. That quickly adds up to 35 euros - and that's before you even think about how you're going to get home. For many people, this is simply not an option, especially in a city where wages are often even lower than the national average.

Now you could say: "Yes, then the clubs will just have to become cheaper." Sounds logical, doesn't it? But at the same time, operating costs are exploding: rent, energy costs, staff costs - everything is getting more expensive. A club can't simply halve the entrance fee without cutting itself in half.

Welcome to the vicious circle: guests can no longer afford to go to the club, so fewer people come. And fewer guests means - that's right - less revenue. An empty club is unattractive, so even fewer people come, and at some point the only option left is to close the doors for good. And who loses? Exactly, everyone.

One thing is certain: the death of clubs is not an isolated phenomenon. It is a symptom of larger problems. Leipzig, the fastest growing city in Germany, is a prime example of this change. Contradictions collide here: a city that is considered creative and alternative, but at the same time is losing spaces in which precisely this culture can develop. A society that longs for community, but at the same time is drifting further and further apart due to rising costs and individualization. And a policy that talks about diversity and innovation, but often fails to understand that these things are not possible without freedom.

And now?

So, Leipzig. Let's get straight to the point. We are at a point where we have to make a decision: Do we want a city that grows but sinks into arbitrariness? Or a city that remains vibrant, full of contrasts, full of stories, full of spaces that are there for us all - not just for those who can afford a fancy new-build apartment? We at Rausgegangen have decided not to simply stand by and watch. Because we believe that this city deserves more than a few glossy brochures with the title "Hypezig". Leipzig is not a brand, it is a city. With people, with stories, with a culture that doesn't survive on its own. We see what is happening here and we are not prepared to accept it. Because we believe that where there is partying, where there is dancing, a city is alive. And without that, it becomes quiet - too quiet.

It sounds trite, but it's true: culture needs support. And not just when your favorite party is in danger of being canceled. But always. That's exactly what we at Rausgegangen do: we give clubs and events the stage they deserve. We make sure that these places remain visible - for everyone who loves them and for everyone who might still want to discover them. But we can't do it alone. We need you. Yes, you out there reading this article right now. Go out there. Buy tickets. Support the bars, the events, the concerts. Share what you like, tell your friends about it. Make yourselves visible - just like we do for the clubs. Because yes, we can write as many articles and launch as many campaigns as we like - in the end, what counts is that you go out.

As you can see, it's about much more than just clubs. It's about what kind of city Leipzig wants to be. Do we want a Leipzig that is known for its creativity, diversity and sense of community? Or do we want a Leipzig that at some point will only be defined by rising rents and investor projects? The answer lies with all of us. We at Rausgegangen believe in this Leipzig. In a Leipzig that not only grows, but also lives. In a Leipzig that not only builds, but also preserves. And above all, in a Leipzig that is as famous for its nights as it is for its days.