Somewhere in London, on a Thursday night, the 6th of July that felt like a rewind of time, I found myself at Room 187 & Park at Studio 338. Walking through the doors, there was a tangible sense of nostalgia in the air. The crowd was Black, mostly 30-somethings, the people who grew up with CDs and mixtapes, who remember the slow burn of a Jodeci hook or the first time they danced to Aaliyah at a house party. The room had that old school energy, the kind that made you feel like you had stepped back to the late 90s or early 2000s, but with a present day twist.
Room 187 is an RnB event, but it is more than just music. It is a culture, a collective memory brought to life through vinyls, DJ sets, and the shared anticipation of familiar grooves. The DJ did not just play tracks; they curated a journey. Every song was a nod to the RnB we grew up on, some people quietly mouthing the lyrics, some fully belting them out, eyes closed like it was the early 2000s over again. The nostalgia was thick, but there was still a desire to stay current, to remind everyone that while we celebrate the past, we are living now.
The crowd reflected that blend perfectly. You had longtime fans, the ones who know every song by heart, and newer listeners, soaking in the vibes, learning the hooks, and discovering themselves in the moments that shaped a generation. There is something special about watching people connect over music that predates them, the way the past becomes a bridge for the present.
Dancing here is a conversation. People move not just with the beat, but with intention. Couples sway, friends circle around each other, and strangers somehow find themselves trading lyrics mid song, caught up in the collective rhythm. There is an unspoken energy, a sense that everyone is here for the same reason, to feel, to remember, to connect.
And it is not just about the music, it is about the memories it brings. People come wanting to feel the RnB of love, the kind of songs that had them daydreaming in their teens. They showed up remembering the heartbreaks and late night mixtape marathons. The music is the language, and everyone speaks it fluently. Some nights, you even hear playful boos when a 00s track hits the speakers, a nod to the shared understanding that we are fully embracing the throwbacks while still living in the now.
Room 187 has a rhythm to it beyond the DJ’s control. There is the way the crowd interacts, the spontaneous moments when someone grabs a friend mid-song to sing together, or the quiet nods between strangers who recognize the same lyric and the same feeling. These are the little things that make an event feel alive, more than a night out, it is a space where people find connections, sometimes romantic, sometimes platonic, always human.
I remember watching a group of women in the corner, completely immersed in the music. They were not just dancing, they were reliving memories, reclaiming moments from their own past, feeling RnB the way it was meant to be felt collectively, A few guys nearby were doing the same, letting the music guide them through moves they had not used in years. The room was alive with shared nostalgia, a gentle reminder of how music can transcend time and remind us of who we are, who we were, and who we want to be.
It is also about mentorship in subtle ways. The throwbacks teach younger attendees like myself, guiding them through a cultural lineage that too often gets overlooked. From vocal runs to beat switches, from love ballads to heartbreak anthems, Room 187 feels like a lesson in appreciation without the classroom. Everyone is learning, remembering, and sharing all at once.
And yes, Day26 made their presence felt. The crowd knew something special was happening, the energy spiked, and they became part of the night’s texture, the cultural markers that made it distinctly ours.
By the end of the night, I left feeling like I had been on a journey. Room 187 is more than a party, it is a reminder that music carries history, identity, and feeling. It is a place to feel seen, to find someone who remembers what you remember, or to teach someone what they never knew they needed.
Somewhere in London, nights like this remind us why we keep coming back, for the music, for the memories, and for the moments that make you feel alive. Room 187 is a love letter to real RnB, a night that blends nostalgia with the present, leaving everyone with a little piece of the past in their pocket, ready to relive it all over again.
