Kieran, the founder of sodom.

Over pride I attended my second ever Sodom event, in the star and garter. Sodom is an event reserved for filth, banging music and red LED lights. It's a place where chatting to people in the toilet queues resulted in rumours circulating that the men's toilet is simply a hole in the floor, and every embrace from a person leaves you coated in their sweat. What I love most about Sodom is the freedom of expression they allow you to have. You would see people in full gimp wear, although I felt more than comfortable in my double denim Britney-inspired look. From start to finish DJs pumped heavy music through the walls and elaborate performers left their acts seared into your mind, with so much planning in place, you may be asking yourself Who is behind these events?

Kieran is a freelance performer and events promoter, as well as a casual stage technician, FOH and hospitality worker. A typical day is governed by Kieran's own schedule. Most of his day is taken up with admin, focusing his work around the events he has underway. The lack of structure allows Kieran to work with freedom. I interviewed Kieran in December of 2024, I then asked the same questions in September 2025. Here's what he had to say…

Do you think you thrive under the hectic schedule you have created for yourself?  

“So it's a double-edged sword, I love the freshness of it… You never know what might happen. I can be suddenly invited to a networking event or put on the guest list for a gig. But then you might have a down day where you're really restless, where you feel kind of worthless, like you're not putting enough work in. A lot of freelance jobs lack routine, so it's important you give it to yourself.” 

“After another year of several zero-hour and freelance jobs I’m now applying for full-time employment. That hectic schedule was/is a little too hectic these days - and the income too uncertain. After graduating drama school I was determined to make the whole acting thing work out - never being tied down or fully committed to a job for the sake of maybe getting an audition and maybe landing that gig. I don’t regret studying as an actor but I do disagree with how a lot of those institutions go about teaching it - you’re made to feel like a failure if you don’t succeed at your chosen craft - but years later I’ve learnt not to give a fuck. Create what you want, when you want. 

What inspired you to start Sodom?

“In my final year at drama school I created Sodomite, which was just a theatre company back then. I wrote a show called Killer Queen, which was originally a one-person show, I performed for a couple of venues in Liverpool, then I moved to Manchester and over the course of lockdown, I adapted it into a full-length play. I reached out to Hidden Nightclub because I had been to events there before and Killer Queen was an immersive-club show, which journeys nicely into Sodom. After all, I was making theatre that was based on nightlife so I decided, let's also make a club night. I wanted to marry my love for theatre, nightlife and community. I've met the most amazing people here in Manchester on nights out and in the queer/kink scene.”

We went on to discuss the fine balance between monetising your hobbies and, in due course, beginning to find them tedious due to performing them out of necessity instead of enjoyment.

Can you see yourself going full-time with Sodom, or is it something you prefer to keep as your side hustle? 

“I think it's good to dream big and all that stuff, but it's difficult to dream big when it's something that I can only see working as a side hustle. I think it could get bigger. And each club night I've done has obviously brought in a fair amount of people. So people are becoming interested and buying tickets. And as long as people are buying tickets, it can keep going, but that's the kind of seesaw nature of events… I would feel a little bit weird if I suddenly only had one thing going on, especially when my main career has always been acting, which links really well to Sodom and club nights.” 

“A lot has happened in a year and my view on this has slightly changed. I no longer see acting as my ‘main career’ - I’m moving towards event management, production, and the goal to work a job that can also prop up Sodom and any future project moving forward. I’m aware events come and go all the time - lack of funding, other commitments etc. but I’ve got a great team with me and right now we’re just having fun building this thing together.” 

Sodom has always been labelled as “kink-friendly.” Is this something you've always had in mind for Sodom, or do you believe it has developed over time, as kink naturally comes hand in hand with queer culture? 

“It's something intentional, because I've been into kink since the age of  18, so over a decade now. It's very much how I discovered myself and my sexuality; heavily getting into like the kink scene in London and through apps, and sexual experiences, it links personally with my friends and our queerness as well, because I think kink allows people to be more open, more expressive, but also just more talkative about their sexuality and sex itself. Obviously, a lot of people, especially British people, are very taboo about the subject. And I think the best thing about kink is no one gives a fuck. And I wanted to bring that into Sodom. You've got a lot of events that make it very strict, and I understand why, because obviously that's a sacred space. But for me, I know the different types of groups that Sodom will attract - people who want to come and support their friends, enjoy the music, try something new etc. So you've got that group of ravers and queer party goers, but then you've also got the kinksters and the kind of queerdos I call them, like myself, weird queers who just want to dress up and fucking party, it's like mixing those two crowds of like you can dress how you want, do what you want, and ultimately, kink allows that.

“This continues to be my favourite thing about Sodom - familiar faces, new faces, full latex, full drag, or black tee and jeans. All sides to the community under one roof.” 

With all of this freedom, have you found yourself having to set more boundaries with guests and staff, or would you say your audience is generally, automatically respectful? 

“So nine times out of ten, it's automatic. I feel like if you create the space, most people know what they're going in for. It's called Sodom. It's a kink-friendly art rave. All the photos I put on my Instagram are quite obviously sexual, dark. Anyone who even takes a glance knows what they're getting themselves in store for. On top of that, there have been occasions where I've had to get more involved. I've had about three club nights now, but one of the club nights had a play space, like a little dark room to the side, which was great for lots of reasons. It allowed people to have sex and explore things in a safe area, but then, obviously, you might get some trouble. There was one instance where we had to remove someone for being inappropriate, but it was dealt with very quickly, very easily, with no drama, thankfully. You never know. It might have gone the other way. But as I say, typically in these spaces, it doesn't, because a lot of those problems may happen due to straight toxic men invading the space, and we’ve been fortunate not to have that.” 

“We implement a clear zero tolerance policy on any form of bigotry, violence and inappropriate behaviour. We have a member of the team on welfare keeping check, security and dedicated venue staff. We care about the community and will always safe-guard the space whilst still allowing for that freedom.” 

I guess it would be kind of odd if the average straight cis man turned up, I don't even know how this event would be on their radar.

“It's funny you say that. This is gonna sound weird, but coming to Manchester, it's actually made me appreciate straight people more. Because, for example, in the rave scene, I’ve been to “straight” events, although I wouldn't even call them straight… Open events, open to everyone. Not about getting wasted, trying to get laid or prove something. Like hardcore techno heads or things like that - it's about the music, no matter who you are, people don't give a fuck. And we don't give a fuck.” 

“It also comes down to the venue and the promoter working together - they can be the making or breaking of a night out. Some venues seem to support that lad culture - so that might be sports bars, or, sad to say, even the village, which is such a shame. The Gay Village, in my mind these days, kind of reeks of lad culture and hen-dos and commercial messiness, which in itself, obviously creates a lot of issues. That’s why alternative queer spaces and music venues are so important.” 

Why do you think that is? That straight people gravitate towards the village?

“I think because they’ve started to see it more as their space now. A straight lad would see Sodom and be like, Okay, that's obviously not for me. I don't want to touch that. But with the village, some of the bars open the latest, it’s cheap and always busy. Typically, there are always events on - like drag shows have become a commodity. So a lot of lads (and some of them might be questioning their sexuality) might go along to these types of shows, which in itself ain't a bad thing. I think it's obviously good to have these spaces where people can have new experiences. But certainly, I think the door policy is too lax in places. A lot of lads think they're the dogs' bollocks and like to be flirted with. It inflates their ego, especially if a gay guy says it.”“This past year I have noticed more queer and inclusive events - showcasing trans and poc artists. It’s always been there but this year feels like it’s become bigger, stronger, I’m sure, due to action against recent news and court rulings. Make the village less straight, less gay, more queer.” 

When did you first find your love for these underground queer scenes? 

“I would say it was when I moved to Manchester. I'm originally from a county called Hertfordshire, which is right next to London. So I spent a lot of time there, but whenever I would be in London, it would be the kind of stereotypical gay scene, like Soho. And then I moved to Liverpool to study, and that was very much just kind of your stereotypical uni days, you know, freshers, all that stuff. And as much as I love Liverpool, and Liverpool's got a great scene, it felt very much more lad culture with the football and concert square. It can be quite an overwhelming city - all concentrated into that one area. But it wasn't really until I moved to Manchester that I felt like, okay, it's a big city, but it's not too big. So it's like the perfect combination of London and Liverpool, but its own entity. It's got so much going on, in theatre, in music, in clubs and raves. I just kind of fell into it. And I've met so many, amazing people and friends in the past four years. It’s the people and venues that uplift and support each other - making it about the community.”

Sodom feels like one of the events you look back on when you’re old, grey and reminiscing on your youth, one you could never tell your grandkids about but cherish every memory from regardless. If you’re looking for an escape from the straight men in the village, and you’re not one to shy away from performances that dance the line of graphic nature, then you’d feel very at home in Sodom.