If you could only walk into twelve rooms on earth, we would pick these. One per city.
A former power plant with the best sound and the hardest door in Europe. The room does not care whether you get in, which is exactly why everyone wants to.
Room One’s bodysonic floor still does something no other club in Britain does: you feel the bass through your feet before you hear it.
Two rooms, a terrace that fogs itself into whiteout, and fifty years of being the reason people book the flight.
The Terrace at sunrise is one of the few genuinely singular experiences left in club culture. Everything else in Miami is scheduled around it.
Muti Randolph’s LED architecture plus a sound system maintained like a religion. The room that put Brazilian techno on the international map and still the best night in São Paulo.
An outdoor yard, an indoor room with a custom system, and a Nonstop weekend that runs from Saturday night into Monday morning. The most complete club in New York.
The room where French techno was argued into existence, with a sound system maintained like an instrument rather than an amenity.
Three floors on a river warehouse with a roof terrace that catches sunrise over the Tejo. The room that put Lisbon on the map and still the hardest door in the city.
A low arched basement on Jamaica Street with a Sunday-night residency older than most of its dancefloor. The best small room in the country.
A Funktion-One room on Thonglor Soi 55 that books internationally without behaving like a tourist club. The best sound in the city.
Four floors around a mirror-ball atrium in Maruyamachō. The room that most visitors mean when they say they went clubbing in Tokyo, and still a good answer.
A seasonal takeover rather than a venue, and for three months a year the biggest room in British clubbing.