Witness the Fitness #4: Morning Gloryville

November 13th 2014




First things first: Morning Gloryville is fuckin’ rad.

There are free hugs and men in giraffe onesies, but it’s not annoying like when first-year students get drunk and wear them to lectures on Foundation Day. It’s a really fun vibe: fitness class cum conscious clubbing.

When I was twelve, I used my mum’s credit card to buy a pair of leg warmers off Ebay. They were a furry blue and had clear PVC bubbles on them filled with glitter. I would use up all our dial-up internet allowance downloading junglist and Happy Hardcore songs off Napster, and then put them on and danced in my room ヘ(^_^ヘ)(ノ^_^)ノ

Being a prepubescent bedroom raver meant that I missed my chance to sweat profusely with a man who had just said to himself “happy new years Darryl” then taken three pills while he danced solo to a drum and base remix of ‘Over The Rainbow’. But boy did I read about it on mIRC.

Walking into Morning Gloryville feels like you’re entering an alternate universe that the cast of GIRLS would attend in an unmarked basement in Brooklyn.

I quickly realised that this was my chance to live out my dreams… Except instead of taking heaps of drugs and spending the next two days wondering if I was a “good” person, I could have a free massage or a green smoothie.

You’re supposed to get there at 6.30am, but … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I don’t make it until 7.30. There are about 60 people all dancing to hardcore junglist beats. Everyone is dressed in fluoro or lycra. They’ve found what looks like an exact replica of DJ Koop from Human Traffic. He’s on stage spinning a chocolate wheel with different dance options on it, when it stops he commands that we all TWERK.

I’m a bit nervous because I’m by myself, so I awkwardly kind of dance on the edge for a bit and contemplate hiding in the toilets for half an hour or so. Instead, I let someone paint a series of fluorescent dots down my face as an offering of assimilation.

A little girl who is about five starts spasmodically dancing next to me and running laps like a sheep dog. I love the way that kids just.have.to.move when music comes on. She entices me from the outskirts into the crowd.

The music gets louder. Lasers fly up the walls and the floor. Koop tells us to KEEP DANCING. I weave my way into the depths of heaving bodies and hear ‘Brainbug’ by Nightmare coming on. Everybody is closing in, and I’m pretty sure that we’re reenacting that Zion Dance scene from The Matrix Reloaded.

All of a sudden, a long-legged aerobics babe who looks like Jennifer Beals in Flashdance comes out clapping.

I hear Starship, “We built this city”. Beals tells us that “It’s time to Retrosweat”.

The next half hour passes in a haze of pelvic thrusts and power ballads. I feel like I too can leave that dead end job I have as a welder and really make it as a dancer.

The guys at Morning Gloryville have nailed it on both atmosphere and activity.

It’s coming up on 9am, and the crowd is dying down a bit. People are disappearing into the bathroom to shed their face paint and spandex. Emerging in business attire, it’s like watching a reverse Clark Kent. I’m about to leave but ‘Niggas in Paris’ comes on and there’s a banging chick with bright red hair dancing by herself so I decide I should have one last power dance to prepare me for the day.

Then I walk out into Broadway, and everyone looks unhappy and sad as they walk to work. I feel like I’ve just left a secret club.

Morning Gloryville is fun, and you should definitely go.



WHAT :: Morning Gloryville

WHERE :: The Underground UTS, 15 Broadway, Ultimo

WHEN :: Wednesday 26 November

PRICE :: $30

MORE INFO :: Morning Gloryville facebook



As a city, Sydney is guilty of succumbing to fitness trends (#cleaneathing #greensmoothie #acaigojispirullinabowl). If there’s one thing that Healthy Harold taught us, it’s that 30 minutes of exercise a day is one of the things that you should do if you want to be a grown up or good human. So, as Harold sits dormant in his caravan, robotic parts probably worn out, Bindi Donnelly has risen from his ashes to be your athletic spirit animal…






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