The Crazy Daisy Nightclub was a discothèque and dance club in Sheffield, South Yorkshire, England in the mid 1970s to late 1980s. Located originally on the Corner of York Street and High Street, Sheffield S1 1PU. It was known as The Beer Keller in the early to mid 1970s. It was renamed the Crazy Daizy in 1973 and run by Webster's brewery. In 1978 it was taken over by the Tetley company and became the Crazy Daisy. Situated in the basement of an art deco building it featured numerous supporting pillars and a steep, sweeping staircase down from the entrance which was infamous for being responsible for many alcohol-related trip accidents.
The Crazy Daiz(s)y club was in business from 1973 to the late 1980s. At the time it became synonymous with the avant-garde early 1980s music scene. During its tenure it was a central social focal point in Sheffield city centre and claims a key role in 1980s Sheffield culture and British pop music history.
It later became the Geisha Bar (in the 1980s), then Legends Nightclub, and subsequently closed in the mid 1990s when the Sheffield social scene shifted to the redeveloped West Street area. The building is now used as a bank and shops, next to a Sheffield Supertram stop.
Read more about Crazy Daisy Nightclub: The Human League Story, Other Famous Connections, The Building Today, In The Media
Famous quotes containing the words crazy, daisy and/or nightclub:
“I started out very quiet and I beat Mr. Turgenev. Then I trained hard and I beat Mr. de Maupassant. I’ve fought two draws with Mr. Stendhal, and I think I had an edge in the last one. But nobody’s going to get me in any ring with Mr. Tolstoy unless I’m crazy or I keep getting better.”
—Ernest Hemingway (1899–1961)
“The token woman carries a bouquet of hothouse celery
and a stenographer’s pad; she will take
the minutes, perk the coffee, smile
like a plastic daisy and put out
the black cat of her sensuous anger
to howl on the fence all night.”
—Marge Piercy (b. 1936)
“Three miles long and two streets wide, the town curls around the bay ... a gaudy run with Mediterranean splashes of color, crowded steep-pitched roofs, fishing piers and fishing boats whose stench of mackerel and gasoline is as aphrodisiac to the sensuous nose as the clean bar-whisky smell of a nightclub where call girls congregate.”
—Norman Mailer (b. 1923)