A night on the town in a tent

Strolling through east London sometimes feels like being in an extended Vice Magazine shoot. Piercings, coloured hair and tattoos are de rigueur, while outlandish haircuts, mismatched clothes and trousers with crotches around the knees all create the impression that everyone is either a model, in a desperately fashionable art school band or working for a hip bar.

If you've ever wondered where on earth these people go out, then Trailer Trash is probably the answer. Purveyor of all things electro, techno and loud, Trailer Trash shakes its thang weekly at On The Rocks in Shoreditch and is widely respected among the clubbing fraternity.

It also holds special events throughout the year and we decide to pay a visit to one such night - an afterparty for the Lovebox festival in Victoria Park. With a nose for sniffing out interesting and bizarre places to dance the night away, past venues for Trailer Trash parties have included an old prison and a car park. So it comes as no surprise that at midnight on a Saturday, we're heading to some five-a-side football pitches just a stone's throw from Liverpool Street station.

An impressive, newly built skyscraper towers above us on the left as we follow the music echoing down Worship Street to find a huge queue waiting to get into the party. Scanning the outfits, nu-rave colours mixed with vintage and street wear, there's been plenty of dressing up for the occasion. But unlike some Hoxton nights, Trailer Trash is equally welcoming to the casual jeans-and-T-shirts brigade, provided they come with the right, open-minded attitude.

We pay our £10 entry and we're in, immediately heading to the larger of the night's sound systems in the rave tent to listen to Germany's Tomboy DJing. Despite the canvas walls, it feels like a warehouse rave, with huge lasers and lights strobing the air above a packed crowd throwing their hands up to the dirty techno booming from huge speakers at the other end of the tent.

Afterwards, a breather outside gives us an opportunity to take in our surroundings. As well as the thankfully adequate supply of portable loos there are two football pitches separating the tents where the music is. It's godsend for smokers and after being asked for a lighter, we start speaking to a group of Spaniards, who are all living and working in London.

Elena, a Trailer Trash regular, tells us she attended its boat party a weeks ago and that the club's international crowd is part of the appeal. A mixture of sexualities and nationalities, the party's atmosphere is charged with the positive energy of people just wanting to dance, as young French DJ Brodinski takes over the decks. His acid-tinged techno has an old-school vibe perfect for the night and pushing to the front we can feel the air being churned out by the vibrating bass bins.

Later we make our way to tent two, which is hosted by Disco Bloodbath and Horse Meat Disco. Both successful clubs in their own right, Horse Meat Disco hosted the NYC Down-Low tent earlier in the day at Lovebox.

There's a slightly older crowd in this tent, which is packed, and excitable girls are mixing with bare-chested, bearded men and guys in drag, while DJ Dan Beaumont plays funky disco. However, it's not all retro sounds. Soul Central's glorious piano-led version of String Of Life causes an explosion of palpable joy as the first rays of sun work their way through the gaps in the tent. While Trailer Trash attracts topname DJs as guests every week, much of its success lies in the outstanding talents of resident DJs Hannah Holland and Mikki Most, who tonight tells us he's doing his best to appease Hackney council's requests to turn the music down.

Mixing up dub-step, techno and the cracking old-school jungle of Omni Trio, Hannah wears her rave roots unashamedly on her sleeve, keeping the crowd on its toes with the everchanging tempo and rhythms. As the sun continues to rise, the party continues and the madness and intensity show no sign of abating till the very last tune at about 4.30am. Waving a farewell to our new Spanish friends, we head off home to our beds before the after-after-party has a chance to lure us onwards. Bring on the next one!