Eccentric, elusive, and expertly advertised; King’s Bunker has been at the top of my Cambridge bucket list since first year. Yet with tickets selling out within seconds of their release, it wasn’t until the final Michaelmas of my postgraduate that I managed to make it there. No event can live up to the hype afforded to Bunker, an event which dominates both the cultural conversation and my Instagram feed, but it was the music that made it worth the wait.

For those who have managed to remain unaware, King’s Bunker is a termly music event taking place in the cramped, pitch-black basement of King’s College, featuring elaborate costumes and obscure themes (this time: laundry day). Bunker first appeared on my radar when experimental hyperpop legend GFOTY headlined in 2022. Sadly, no ticket. Admittedly, Bunker has never since boasted a headliner of that calibre, but they have continued to host both international talent and student DJs.

Taking to the stage - or rather, the basement corner - this term was Lo-Low, London-based resident DJ at both Yes Babe! and Bunker 194. Lo-Low has a stacked resume, performing at Boiler Room and Pxssy Palace with none other than Arca. Her set embraced the experimentalist essence of Bunker. Her remix of The Saturdays’ ‘All Fired Up’ would be unrecognisable if it weren’t for the lyrics; the tempo is quicker, the bass is heavier; the percussion is more layered and sporadic. Tracks featured unexpected rhythms and the bizarre sounds of bubbling and squeaking you find in early SOPHIE tracks. Yet alongside these maximalist whirlwinds, she wasn’t afraid to let the room breathe with slower, minimalist sections that built to even more impactful basslines.

“Even where well-known tracks appeared, they were turned upside down and inside out”

The centrality of bass was a common thread throughout all five student DJs that played alongside her, including former Bunker president turned debut DJ, John Palmer, A.K.A. Remlap. Repetitive, high tempo beats were another constant across the performers, offering a solid foundation from which they could explore and experiment. This philosophy bled out into the crowd. The constancy of rhythm allowed each person to melt into themself, unperturbed by drastic changes or lyrics.

Even where well-known tracks appeared, they were turned upside down and inside out. Marcu’s expertly crafted ‘Vroom Vroom’ remix sped up the track beyond belief and overlaid it with a Latin-inspired beat. Em-C’s synth-fuelled reworking of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ broke apart and rebuilt the song with pieces of Benny Benassi and The Blitz’s all-familiar ‘Satisfaction’.

Em-C was the undeniable highlight of the night. Her closing set took choppy, incomprehensible vocal samples, sped them up and layered them over both techno and house tracks, offering an unparalleled intensity. Boasting the highest energy set of the night, her talent forced both high-vis-wearing fire marshals and various pieces of clothing onto the dance floor (though, it must be said, taking off your top makes little difference when your outfit consists of old underwear or cut-up fabric).

“the intensity of the sound rattles your bones and shakes off any reservations you may have”

What makes Bunker, like any King’s event, special is its underlying commitment to freedom and revelry. Each set list boasted a dedication to the DJ’s own style, with almost complete disregard for what the crowd would respond to – but this was a good thing. Club DJs are forced to offer sing-along hits and dance floor attractors; Bunker DJs are there to offer something you’ve never heard before and will never hear again.

Like any description of an event at King’s, this sounds obnoxious and self-aggrandising, but that’s the point. Bunker is about throwing out insecurity and throwing yourself into self-indulgence and idiosyncrasy. The music is the facilitator for this. As obscure, experimental beats reverberated through the (surprisingly small) crowd, so too did a sense of unwavering nonchalance. There is no pressure to know the song, only pressure to submit yourself to it.

I admit, this article is itself an act of self-indulgence, making Bunker sound more glamorous than it is. In earnest, the bunker is smaller and emptier than you’d expect; the costumes are often lackadaisical; the drinks are expensive. But as you descend beneath the smoking area (likely following a lengthy queue time), the intensity of the sound rattles your bones and shakes off any reservations you may have.

Bunker is quintessentially King’s, and it perpetuates that energy through its music. If the suffocatingly self-assured stereotype of a King’s student is too much to bear full-time, at least this event offers a temporary and sub-terrain taste of what life is like as the IT girl.