Unity’s Racial Mix Makes Once-a-Week Spot a Culture Club

Promoter Alton Aksu says he named his Thursday night club Unity to reflect the combination of musical styles booming from its two dance rooms: techno and tribal in one; house, old and new disco, and alternative in the other space.

This mingling of jams works because each tune has an intoxicating pull that would get just about anyone moving. Disc jockeys Devistator, Louis Love, Bumper and Erik do a killer job at spinning the mostly industrial, KROQ and Power 106 fare (Love spins for the latter radio station), making smooth mixes and seamless song changes that keep the beat pumping nonstop.

The once-a-week club at the Red Onion in Orange also draws an enviable cultural mix. It’s easy to imagine that racial harmony and peace could actually exist if the outside world only interacted like this.

If reality also replicated the high security presence at Unity, however, we’d be under martial law. But at a club that boasts more than 1,000 patrons a week, the party could otherwise steer out of control. (And the yellow-jacketed bouncers are at least congenial.)

It seemed more like several thousand packed into the Mexican restaurant-bar last week, although organizers say the numbers have been more like 800 to 1,000 since school started--in contrast to the summer, which reportedly attracted an average of 1,300 per week.

Aksu says he didn’t get into Unity for the money, but to have a place where his pals can party. (He apparently has a record number of friends.)

Patrons lucky enough to have a laminated VIP gold card get to forgo the normally long line and cover charges of $6 to $8. How to get one? You either have to know Aksu or pay a ridiculous $250 fee. If you’re age 21 or over (normally subject to the $6 cover), that works out to about 41 weeks before you get a freebie night. Talk about becoming a regular.

Unity took up residence at the Red Onion in February, putting the existing extravagant light and strobe system to good use. The “KROQ” room, as it’s dubbed, lacks the permanent light and sound system of the main room but doesn’t suffer in ambience, due to temporary colored spotlights and giant speakers installed for the night. Despite the wall of glass windows separating the two, each room surprisingly contains its sound so no New Order oldie interferes with some 808 State number.

The place gets a full face lift for the night with temporary decorations. On the walls hang felt collage clown faces and mushrooms, airbrushed and graffiti murals and large swatches of purple leopard-print fabric. The deejays and go-go dancers are caged in a chain-link fence, safe from the sweaty throngs of partiers who wrap around their space.

The dance floors overflow in energy and numbers--so much so that wearing protective footwear is strongly advised if you value your toes, especially when the crowd starts doing a Mac Daddy jump. Also big is breaking into group sessions with strangers, bumping hips and swaying arms in unison.

Seating is not as scarce as one might expect, simply because few people sit for very long, opting to cruise the two rooms before returning to the dance floor. That, of course, translates into scamming the masses for that special one--or special next one (if at first you don’t succeed . . .).

Aksu prides himself on entertainment that changes with inspiration. Recently, he featured a mini-Monte Carlo blackjack table where wanna-be high rollers played for fun and imaginary stakes. Past activities include laser lights, a strip-tease “shadow box” show, a lemonade-filled Jacuzzi, where patrons who dared to jump in skipped the cover, and parking lot bungee jumping from a hot-air balloon.

The dress code prohibits beanies, plain white T-shirts and athletic shoes, tank tops, and shirts with cutoff sleeves. What the list doesn’t mention is the requirement that all females don bra tops. A facetious observation maybe, but paired with cutoffs or long jeans, that appears to be the uniform of choice for several hundred women here.

On the subject of clothes, Eurofunk (a.k.a. EF) dishes out about $500 worth of tees and caps a week that are thrown out to the crowd. The giveaway was painfully long last week as Aksu and friends dragged it out, appearing to get some sort of thrill out of watching patrons beg, push and shove for a $20 T-shirt. To the patrons involved (and not all cared to be): Get a grip.

Drink specials are domestic draft beer for $1.50 and Long Island iced tea for $2.50 before 10 p.m. Bottled beers include Tecate, Amstel Light, Miller and Coors for $3.50 to $4.50, or, sold from large metal buckets for $6, there are quarts of Coors and Miller, regular and light varieties. Well drinks are $3.50; bottles of Snapple, Jolt Cola and Evian, $2.

- Unity at the Red Onion, 450 N. State College, Orange. (714) 939-8590. Thursday only, 9 p.m. to 2 a.m. Cover $6 for ages 21 and over, $8 for ages 18 to 20.

FOOTNOTES: Aksu’s homie, Pauley, is throwing a rave on Friday, Nov. 13, called Flowers in the Addict. The one-night-only affair opens at 10 p.m., but Pauley says the real show starts after hours around 2 a.m. Hard cores and the adventurous are invited. Call (714) 753-3328 for info or just to get on the mailing list for future events.