It's rare that good news leads the news agenda, but when it comes to Sydney's decimated nightlife, a recent series of positive stories mark a distinct departure from five years of doom.

Australia's "only global city" (as NSW Premier Gladys Berejiklian perhaps generously called it) had a night-time economy on its knees since the introduction of 2014's lockout laws: 176 venue closures and a loss of almost half of its live music venues.

The first piece of good news is, of course, that they'll be rolled back in all areas except Kings Cross, where the worst alcohol-fuelled violent incidents occurred.

It has been welcomed with much fanfare from the city's embattled creatives, DJs, music makers and venue owners.

Without wanting to be the party pooper here, the night-time economy of all Australia's major cities must resist an even bigger threat, one that's wreaking havoc on the individuality and joyously hedonistic landscape of every global city worldwide: development.

That is, however, where the second piece of good news comes in — it's a rare and underreported good news story about Sydney's nightlife, and it comes from its gay village on Oxford Street in Darlinghurst.

The threat of gentrification

In a feat of refreshing resilience, Australia's biggest gay nightclub, ARQ Sydney, has just marked its 20th anniversary.

It's an outlier among gay clubs in Australia and worldwide, which are closing at an alarming rate.

When ARQ opened in 1999, there was an unequal age of consent, no legal recognition for same-sex couples and no hook-up/dating apps.

Gay clubs like ARQ were essential places for the LGBTQI community to meet, connect, hook up and form solidarity and supportive friendships in less-enlightened times.

Since then, much has changed. What's impressive about ARQ is that it has weathered a perfect storm of factors that've destroyed gay scenes worldwide.

These include hook-up apps like Grindr, "chemsex" parties hosted in homes, stay-at-home drugs like ice overtaking dance-floor drugs like ecstasy in popularity, and millennials preferring festivals.

Perhaps surprisingly, equality also plays a part. In an age of same-sex marriages and other legal protections, there's more integration and assimilation on the nightclub scene.

The threat of gentrification lurks, though.

It is estimated that more than 150 venues were forced to shut due to the lockout laws. ( Supplied: Destination NSW )

As rents have skyrocketed and alcohol restrictions in NSW have stung profits, it must sometimes be tempting (and financially seductive) for nightclub owners like ARQ's Shadd Danesi to sell-up.

Panicked rumours of ARQ being sold often circulate around the LGBTQI community.

"We've heard rumours for the last 10 years that ARQ's closing; we've no intention of closing in the near future," marketing manager Jimmy Dee said.

Sydney is bucking the trend — for now

That's the near future, but what about the medium term? Another good news story provides some reassurance.

When The Midnight Shift, Sydney's only other major multi-level gay club on Oxford Street, closed in October 2017, the LGBTQI community kicked up enough fuss for it to be reborn as a gay club again.

Against all odds, it was — it's now called Universal.

Many thought it'd be made into yet more luxury flats or something gentrified, like grungy after-hours gay club The Phoenix, which in recent years transformed into a bougie straight cocktail bar.

That's a pernicious phrase to which nightclub lovers worldwide are becoming depressingly accustomed: transformed into luxury flats.

Melbourne's biggest gay club, The Greyhound, closed in 2017 — transformed into 43 luxury flats.

Except, it wasn't. The site, to this day, stands empty, just the rubble of the former much-loved, well-attended 163-year-old venue.

If it ever does happen, it's a story repeated in major cities everywhere — the middle class lives of 43 residents are deemed more important than the thousands of clubgoers entering their refuge, their safe haven, on a weekly basis.

Sydney appears to be bucking the development trend — for now. ( Supplied: Andy Baker )

Sanitisation stripping character from cities

Gay clubs are still sanctuaries for many, after an exhausting week in a heteronormative world.

They're refuges where anyone queer can express themselves, flirt and connect with their community safely.

One of the worst affected cities from this contemporary scourge is surely London.

The diversity of rainbow characterising the gay scene is being replaced by shades of grey and beige in London. ( Unsplash: Axville )

London's biggest gay club, XXL at Pulse, is due to close on 22 September despite London Mayor Sadiq Khan being elected on a promise to resist any further LGBTQI club closures.

It'll be made into — you guessed it — luxury flats.

The appointment of a Night Tsar, something occasionally mooted for Sydney, didn't help, according to XXL co-owner James McNeill.

"The Mayor didn't meet us. He sent London's Night Tsar, Amy Lame," he said.

"But she's a club promoter for [rival LGBTQI pub] the Royal Vauxhall Tavern and spent most of her resources saving that venue from closure, with little interest in saving the venue that houses the world's biggest weekly party for bears [hirsute gay men]."

Just 53 LGBTQI venues in London were open in 2017 compared with 125 in 2006.

BuzzFeed featured a powerful piece showing 24 before and after pictures of London's "disappearing lesbian and gay scene". The diversity of the rainbow characterising the gay scene is being replaced by shades of grey and beige.

It's an act of sanitisation that'll see cities like London lose all character, individuality and edge, becoming a series of carbon-copy high streets featuring Starbucks, Pret, Nero and McDonald's on repeat.

There's an element of nimbyism to this gentrification too: those who move into areas for their hip edginess and buzz then destroy the very thing that attracted them to move there, by complaining the minute they hear people enjoying themselves post 10:00pm on Saturday.

It was always ironic for the Liberal Party, the pro-business party of minimal interference, to kill Sydney's night time economy with over-regulation.

But when it comes to luxury flat developers versus nightclub owners, there are no prizes for which side they'll favour.

LGBTQI resistance started in Sydney in 1978 as defiance of police and political hostility.

Resistance in 2019 addresses a different threat: against the tides of capitalism and gentrification, to retain Sydney's colour and diversity — and to keep those refuges alive.

Let nightclub owners hear that plea. They own more than a club. They provide a community service.