Tuesday, December 2, 2014


Her name is Lucy Something or other...

I'm going to take a stab at telling you how my weekend went. Later on it'll all come together and you may understand the reference. If you're standing in the bright Cape Town sun, blinking at the sharp light after having just discovered a way out from under a large stone, then you need to know that there was a fairly important gig here on Saturday night at Assembly. The rest happens to be incidental. Nonetheless...

Friday night at Mercury was insane. I'm not even using the word lightly. It was Mr METAL's 30th birthday and all the kids came out to play. Even the aging cast of Sex And The City was having the jol of their lives at the corner of the bar and a'hollerin' and a'whoopin' like men half their age. There were quite a few bands on display. The Rudimentals have taken the Tokyo Drift approach to their musical direction and introduced an electronic element along with what I can only describe as a mass Black Eyed Peas lyrical melange. Clearly this new energy works, as they have recently hit the top of 5FM's charts, but I wasn't convinced by the Beastie Boys vs Mango Groove mash up. That being said, it's clearly not being done with my artistic vision in mind and more power to them. The rest of the bands had the crowd going suitably nuts all night. I really must revisit Bryan Ferry's wise words. That, or hang up my going out stirrups. The main thing was the awesome time had by all and especially the love shown to the birthday boy! METAL!!!

Saturday I was introduced to a game akin to lawn jukskei. With elements of chess. And clearly developed by the devil and the people who designed printers back in the day to include the "paper jam" feature. I wasn't the only one at the picnic who didn't like it, as a very inebriated homeless person on a church hat went off on a rant so eloquently colourful, she inspired this lot of privileged individuals to start a zef rap group. We're called the Tik Kop Naaiers (TM) and we already have 2 songs written. Watch out Jack, Ninja and Yolandi. I am your creator...

Anyway, swiftly on to the main event. After a quick (and fucking awesome) meal at Roxy's we took a stroll down to Assembly, only to dart straight into Lefty's to continue our Prehemoth Drinks (after taking one look at the queue for the show). It's testament, not only to how dire things have become, but, to how well Witchdoctor Productions are now doing, that we bolt at the sight of a line of people outside a venue. Back in my (doddering old) day, you'd stand outside Playground for ever unless you knew someone important. I didn't, but the party already started IN the queue.
Finally we got inside and watched the second half of the Konkhra set. They were as punishing and as heavy and as unforgiving as a freight train from hell. Brilliant! The crowd was simply bludgeoned into submission - and they loved it!
And then after the mandatory round of high fives, bum-out hugs and "pretending you remember where you know this oke from" it was time for Behemoth. A theatrical triumph! They effortlessly entranced the acolytes gathered to worship in front of them - as if at some ominous black mass. Their stage presence is an otherworldly wonder to behold and Nergal's natural charisma is the stuff the kerkbazaar tannies warned you about, instantly pinning everyone under his serpentine spell. Not to mention that they started with the mind blowing 'Blow Your Trumpet Gabriel', my personal favourite...
[*Before you take me for some superfan, please note that I'm THAT arsehole who never paid them any attention until it was announced that they were touring. I then clicked on the Youtube and the first song that came up was the breathtaking video for "Blow Your Trumpet..." I largely disregarded everything since then, admittedly smitten with this sublime slab of dark art.]
The highlight of my evening was actually getting to meet and hang out with Lilitu - the darling demonic diva of Theatre Runs Red fame who had traveled down after playing Joburg with Behemoth/Konkhra the night before. Let's do that again!

Oh ja, did I mention that the internationals ended up opening for Wildernessking? Their atmospheric, plaintive black metal majesty rounded off a perfect night - one I am sure many, many people will never forget.

What's a night out watching one of the world's most evil bands (who can actually afford production quality on their recordings) without a bit of blood? I'm having tremendous trouble typing this as my one finger is pointed away from the keyboard swathed in Elastoplast. I got home and, in a drunken attempt to clear a bit of a mess, somehow managed to pick a fight with a razor. The razor won. 12 hours of thinning my blood out also meant The Hot Girlfriend did a lot of cleaning. She really is amazing!

I must make special mention of the Sad Panda twins. You have to work on the corpse paint, guys. And lay off the McDonalds. There's more to life than the dank dungeons in which you mope and play quest games between epic bouts of cranking. A wise man once lamented "See the light and feel my warm desire..."

It won't surprise you at all to learn that Sunday was a write off.

Football last night, however, was not. I still can't understand how they forgot to carry me off the field held aloft on their shoulders.

So, to everyone I drank with, partied with, drank with, laughed with, drank with, made fun of other people with, and generally cause kak with, thank you! Thank you for an exceptional weekend. I'm still standing. Try harder next time, motherfuckers.

NGDG: Steve Hofmeyr's attorney actually tried to shut up a libelous ventriloquist's puppet by putting his hand in its mouth.  Jinne, Steve. Clearly you couldn't afford BDK.

Spread The Love. How 'Bout A Go On My Trumpet?

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