Sunday, 18 November 2012

On Friday I went to a swing party. No, not a swinger party.

I say 'swing' and you think 'swinger', right? Wrong. The men didn't put their watches into a bowl. The ladies didn't have to choose the one that would decide their fate for the night. Random couples didn't disappear into rooms together. Thank goodness. Still not sure what a swing party is? Take some jazz and accelerate the pace, add a dollop of groove and some dangerous dance moves and you have swing music à la 1950s.

I was transported to this era on Friday night when Arcade Empire hosted their first swing party. It was all feather boas, flapper dresses, high-waisted skirts, suspenders and brogues. My favourite, though, had to be the three guys who looked like they had walked off the set of Pearl Harbour in their old army uniforms. It was quite brilliant. Michael Lesar (a man who has the longest, coolest dreads I have ever seen) played an incredible three-hour set with Greg Georgiades on the ukelele. And then, just after midnight, when we thought that our poor, worn feet couldn't possibly take any more boogieing, a dancer came onto the stage and started doing a tasteful striptease type of thing. It was more like a burlesque number than anything else and was as kinky as this party got, I promise. I haven't been this excited about a party since I roamed the halls of Capitol Theatre when Cyberpunkers came to South Africa. Please, please, please Arcade Empire, let's do it again soon. 

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