Step into anarchy with Queer Bruk
“There is nothing more rebellious and anarchic than for two gays to be kissing whilst someone is telling them that they should burn in hell”.
- Akeil Onwukwe-Adamson
Image: Akeil Onwukwe-Adamson. © Jeremiah Fernandes
On a gloomy Saturday afternoon in London, I met Akeil Onwukwe-Adamson, the founder of Queer Bruk, who brought the sunshine all the way from LA, before he headed off to Jamaica for a family wedding. We caught up on all things London, music, fashion, David Bowie, and of course delved into Queer Bruk.
Akeil is gorgeously enigmatic, passionate, and creative – the kind of person you just want to be friends with instantly. He is paving the way for queer black people of all genders and fluidities through his words, fashion, and ultimately parties… so let’s just get into it.
For anybody that doesn’t know what Queer Bruk is, could you give us a little introduction?
Queer Bruk was born out of a need to speak to black queer people, whilst also speaking to the heritage and the culture that we grew up on. I found that when I was going to gay clubs, which were predominately white, they just played the likes of Kylie Minogue and Ariana Grande, which is great, but I also wanted to hear something specifically black – and by that I don’t just mean some random Sean Paul mixed in. And then on the flip side, I would go to dancehall raves which were attended by majority black people, but then I would be at the other end of homophobia.
So I thought, I want to start something that is so central to black people and the black queer experience. Which led me to creating Queer Bruk which is a black led night. Don’t get me wrong, everyone is welcome – but Queer Bruk speaks to a very certain experience of us kids that are from an Afro-Caribbean descent have. For instance, I grew up with my mum who predominately listens to reggae every single day, so that’s what I grew up on. And it’s not just the music that is Afro-Caribbean at my nights, it’s everything at the back end too, so all the videographers, photographers, and artists are all Afro-Caribbean and queer. I try and keep my network extremely curated and specific.
Image: Queer Bruk events. © Caleb Jones
Where did it all begin then? What was your first event?
Well, I had the idea and the motivation, but I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, I’m not a DJ, I didn’t run nights, I didn’t do any of that. So, I spoke to a DJ friend of mine, and she gave me a list of queer friendly venues, and off the back of that in 2018 I emailed Vogue Fabrics in Dalston, where I ended up throwing a party to a room of 100 people. Afterwards, I thought, I might have something here. I used to work in PR so I emailed a lot of the newspapers, magazines and publications - Pink News wrote about us, and the Gay Times. Obviously, this helped massively to get the word out, but I think Instagram was really the most instrumental thing.
I just kept doing parties and they are going well, but I am still finding it is really a lot of trial and error. At first, in 2018, I did them just whenever I wanted, then the next year I did a few more, and then obviously we had covid to contend with between 2020 – 2022, and then our first one back was in August 2022 and that was to 1,000 people at Colour Factory in Hackney Wick which was kind of in place of Carnival as that still wasn’t back.
So, you mentioned you’re not a DJ, how does the music aspect of your nights work?
So, when I’ve secured a venue, I will then establish my timings and will split up the night into different slots and give each DJ a slot. I tell them to do whatever they want but there has to be an Afro-Caribbean vibe – so there has to be dancehall, afrobeats, Soca etc. Donnie Sunshine is my resident DJ, and he blends in like old school hip hop, rap, RnB, so it could be like some Destiny’s Child blended in with some Soca.
Other DJs will blend in a bit of house maybe, but I try and steer clear of too much house because I feel like a lot of queer nights are quite house heavy, and I want to do something different – I want songs about pum pum and being fucked up against the kitchen table, that’s what I want. And I get asked this a lot, as there is a big thing with dancehall being extremely homophobic, so why am I including it at a queer night? And really the reason why I want there to be some overt sexuality and sexual-ness is because, I think, there is nothing more rebellious and anarchic than for two gays to be kissing whilst someone is telling them that they should burn in hell. At first, I did worry about playing that music, but then I realised the gays don’t give a shit, they will kiss anywhere!
Image: Queer Bruk events. © Caleb Jones
What other genres do you listen to – give us some recommendations?
Mariah Carey is always at the top of my Spotify Wrapped. Heartbreaker is my favourite song of all time. I would say I probably listen to about an hour of Mariah Carey every day.
Disco is also a big deal for me, I love joyful music, and even though there are issues with it, I love gospel too. But then I do also love Adele and Lana Del Rey, depressing music is also amazing – pretending you’re in a music video with a single tear rolling down your face. That’s fashion.
Queer Bruk seems to be part of a bigger movement going on in London, why do you think there’s a need for these queer spaces in London?
A lot of queer venues are closing down so there has become a need for club nights. And then the queer venues that are still around now are owned by old white men, and they just don’t understand the necessity for there to be alternative evenings and nights that cater towards specific audiences. They cater for gay men, but they don’t necessarily cater for queer women, or trans people, or non-binary people, or for even people that don’t drink.
So, all these little pockets and nights are popping up because there is a need for safer spaces created by the people that it’s for. Essentially, I created a night for myself and for my little group of people. There are other queer black club nights, that were started by white gay men, but then because of this they lack authenticity and are very surface level.
Image: Queer Bruk events. © Jeremiah Fernandes
And what about the name, what does Queer Bruk mean?
I had the name for about four or five years before I started the night, I just thought of it randomly when I was at university. Bruk is patios and links to broken and within music a broken beat. But culturally I think it’s moved into being an essence, a movement now, similar to twerking, letting yourself go. I think part of the success of the night and of my business has been down to the name. People know exactly what it’s going to be. Bruk is so specifically black, and queer is so specifically queer. And that’s the best advice I’ve given to people just starting out, is to really think about the name, because people will come to my night over others because it is what it says on the tin.
I am blessed that I came up with the name when I did. I trademarked it when I came up with it and bought the website domain, although that currently has nothing on it, but it’s to come.
Ohh what’s the plan for the website?
At the moment I don’t know, but I do want there to be a directory of all the people that I work with – all the creators – I want to do little articles about them and have databases of other events going on in London.
It's clear then that Queer Bruk isn’t just about putting on parties, what direction do you see Queer Bruk going in?
I want to make sure that everything we are speaking to doesn’t feel surface level and it’s not all just about the partying. The partying in itself is rebellious, and it is political, but then I also want to make sure that I am upskilling people. I know loads of young, black, queer writers, and if I can create a platform where they could write articles on things that they are interested in that would be amazing. I don’t want this to be a magazine, but I also understand from working in PR, you have to have multiple platforms to make money. It’s all about creating more opportunities for people in my space – it would be so great for more people to hear their stories. I have been really interested in doing a zine too with a brand or something.
What did you get up to before Queer Bruk? What’s your background?
Well, I went to university to do English Literature, as I originally wanted to be a fashion journalist. I went to Brighton University, largely because it’s a crazy night out and full of gays, but me and my mum did put in the research, and it was a good uni for what I wanted to do. I then started doing some writing for magazines, editing, and then I naturally went into PR which was lots of schmoozing journalists and then I went into influencer marketing. And now I’m doing some freelance marketing for festivals and of course, I run parties.
It's weird thinking about where my career has gone, from being 24 and being like “I don’t know what I’m doing”, to now feeling like I know what I’m doing, I just need to continue doing it.
I can see from what you’re wearing now and your Instagram that looking good is key. Where does your draw to fashion come from?
That comes from this bitch here *pointing at his mum*… this queen. I grew up with a mum that loved fashion and loved clothes, and I just naturally fell into it. I used to wear her clothes a lot when I was younger – people actually thought she had another daughter. Fashion is always something that I’ve loved, and I look good! It’s a great way to express yourself. When it comes to fashion, even when I think what someone is wearing is awful, I think, I love that for you. You go girl!
Image: Queer Bruk events. © Caleb Jones
Does fashion have a role at Queer Bruk nights?
Yes, that is something so important about my events, the freedom of the way that people show their bodies is so central. It's predominantly women that come to my nights, which I love, and the way that they express their bodies and show off their bodies, there is a real sense of pride in that whether they are skinny or big. It’s beautiful to see the way that women feel comfortable doing that in a queer space. As I found that because so many club nights are catered to gay men, and even in the gay world there still seems to be this misogyny, and as a result there is this kind of handing things over to gay men, and that’s another thing I wanted to stop. Women don’t and didn’t always feel comfortable in these spaces, but I think they do at my nights.
I love that people know when they come to Queer Bruk, that the outfit they are wearing is something they should feel comfortable in but also something that maybe pushes themselves out of their comfort zone.
A fashion icon, and just all round icon, to many has to be David Bowie, do you take inspiration from him? Is that something that drew you to taking part in the Southbank Centre’s celebration?
Yes! Part of the reason why I am doing this is because my dad is a big David Bowie fan. He lives in Scotland, and when we used to go visit him, he would be playing me David Bowie, blasting air guitar, and I would just want him to put on some Anastacia. But now I have such a love for David Bowie and what he represents, and I guess I’m doing this for my dad. I remember even at a young age my dad was talking about gender expression and the pride that he felt in David Bowie. He would talk about how no one else was really doing what he was doing at the time. I think that made me feel more comfortable to express myself and talk to him about stuff like that – about gender, about my sexuality, etc.
I guess David Bowie was my first instance of my dad being a bit more like “I know who you are, I’m not going to tell you what you are, but I am telling you that when you’re ready you don’t have anything to worry about”. I think my dad used David Bowie to hint to me that everything was going to be okay. I’ve never really thought about it like that before, but I think my dad did subtly hint some stuff to me through Aladdin Sane and through Ziggy Stardust.
Image: Queer Bruk events. © Caleb Jones
What’s the plan for the event that you’re doing at Southbank Centre? Tell me more.
Well, I actually found out some really exciting news today, Ms Banks is going to be performing. This is a really big moment for me because I actually worked with her back when I did PR for Nike, I met her at this big campaign shoot, and then I met her again and she remembered me at this event we were both at last year, and now she’s performing at my event. It’s such a full circle thing!
It sounds like 2023 is the year for Queer Bruk! What else have you got planned?
Oh, for sure, this is our year! I would love to start a family-friendly festival with food stalls, black and queer fashion designers, music, DJs, starting at like midday till 8pm, with a big club night for the adults after. That’s what I’m working towards.Queer Bruk is going to be at Mighty Hoopla – they want me and a person from the Coca Butter Club to curate our own stage, so we are doing a seven-hour takeover. Which is great experience for me if I want to start doing festivals later.
We are slowly becoming the go-to for black, queer sounds. I think a lot more festivals and venues are starting to realise that they need to branch out and be a bit more inclusive, and they see us as a way to do that.
And finally, to bring it back to our lovely city, tell us some of your favourite spots in London?
For a night out I have to mention Vogue Fabrics in Dalston and The Refreshment Rooms in Stratford. For drinks, I absolutely love Ridley Road Market Bar. Go there if you want to see the creative weirdos and art kids along a street that is basically a fish market in the day. It’s a little market bar, they do incredible pizza and really good margaritas that are like a fiver.
Instagram: @queerbruk
Twitter: Queer Bruk
We can’t wait to see Akeil and experience all that Queer Bruk has to offer at Southbank Centre’s Concrete Lates on Saturday 22 April 2023. If you fancy joining the fun you can find tickets here, and make sure to check out all the other events taking place at the Southbank Centre in celebration of 50 years of Aladdin Sane.
Words by Mollie Kate Cohen
