AWKWARD IS BEAUTIFUL

Fetish on Friday night. Fuck me.What a show! What an evening...

In another hotly anticipated return to their old stomping ground, Fetish delighted the fans - old and new -  that packed into Mercury to be part of their ressurection. I fall into the catagory of the former, having been fortunate enough to witness their rise to awkward media sweethearts. I remember one particular evening attempting to break the laws of physics as I coerced my 1977 Escort to a speed of 160km/h as I tried to make it in time for one of their shows at the Purple Turtle after I had a gig in Stellenbosch. Drinking and driving laws weren't as sharply observed or enforced back then...

Well, to put it simply, back in the day, they were the most understated - and the most undisputedly so - brilliant band around. I know the Nudies et al were more popular (to a point), but Fetish was at the forefront of an up swell of raw, naked, emotional, and downright delicious music that engulfed the Cape Town creative conscience. It was honest and introspective. It was beautiful, not belligerent. It stretched the questions. It pressed for answers. It took on delicate subject matter in hushed, back room whispers. And provided scathing sincerity in return. Creating the troubled and often turbulent musical back drop - the band combined incisive insight with stellar song writing as the perfect launching pad on which Michelle Breeze  could let her fragile, gorgeous, and fascinating vocal style and her broken, melancholic lyrics mesmerise.

A decade on and they've recorded a new album. It's more assured. The new songs are less about the awkward angst felt by so many and more about real world issues - a natural progression if you will - considering we all draw on life's experience as the material from which to create our own art. Fetish is as honest as they always were. There's a sense of contained confidence about the music now. There's a feeling of having found some of the answers. A sense of settling into a life. An expected maturity.

I was looking forward to this show tremendously. And I am over the moon to report that they did not disappoint. Still there was the poignant purity of their earlier work, a perfect foil to the more authentic assuredness of their new stuff. Michelle was at her captivating best, entrancing, enchanting, moving the crowd with her ebbing and flowing performance. I myself had just the right amount of social lubricant to allow myself to be washed away on their tide of turbulent serenity - and guess what - I had the time of my life! Only one person could possibly have had a better evening than me - and that was Rose Thorn, whose rousing rendition of 'Leah' was graciously allowed to be heard by one and all as Michelle relinquished the mic to her for an impromptu sing-along from the crowd. I can only hope that the mic, which was held dangerously close to the bellowing maw of yours truly, didn't pick up any of my off key warbling...

All in all a fantastic night. Tarty Farty Tequila Party was the ring leader in an assault on late night revelry in the Mother City along with Slappy and the clearly chuffed Rose Thorn. I have just been informed that there were even topless shenanigans in the offing... That's how you do it! The Hot Girlfriend hauled my stumbling, grinning ass off and put me - gratefully - to bed. Catch the rest of the South African tour - it may be your last chance. Durban - you lucky, lucky bastards! You get Shannon Hope on top of all this! Fuck you! I would probably - what am I saying - DEFINITELY - need clean trousers...

If... that was the last time I ever get to see Fetish, then it was a rousing, fitting send off.
If... I ever have the immense fortune of seeing them again, then they have a mammoth task if they want to improve on that indescribably wonderful experience.
If... only.
If...

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