We arrived at 9:45pm or so and bought some thirst quenchers before rolling up our sleeves and indulging ourselves in a few rounds of foosball; me on my lonesome ownsome against Ruthie-moo and sister-in-crime. The odds were in their favour but I put on my United (Glory! Glory!) boots and kicked butt, winning a premiership title of my very own. A very lovely young man decided to join me, assuming of course that I needed help but alas he too was amazed at the outstanding skills in my wrists. Foosball's terrible fun when you're winning (and even when you're not).
The Plastics showed up on stage and got the crowd dancing and in the mood for a super duper night. Being a lumo party, glow bands were tossed here and there and everywhere. The Plastics don't really move about much on stage and don't have much audience interaction which makes them appear dull on a big platform. On the smaller stage at Mercury the band's personality really shone through and the encouragement from the large crowd seemed to motivate them even more to put on a truly awesome gig. They exchanged "the look" with one another; you know, that look that says, "Oh yeah, now we're rocking." I dig their music and their vibe and if only I'd caught one of those freebie CDs handed and tossed out, I'd be jamming to them right now. Perhaps I should blow some cash-money on the righteous cause. One CD I do have in my collection is "Daddy Don't Disco," which I purchased after hearing those dirty Dirty Skirts at Rocking the Daisies 2008. Now that was some Rand well spent.
The Dirty Skirts were up next and turned a rad party into a raucous one. The red velvet curtains went up and there appeared Jeremy, Mark, Maurice and Dave who kicked off with "Wake" - a great energetic opener followed by hit after hit from both "Daddy Don't Disco" and "On a Stellar Bender". Now this band's definitely got that X factor that no Idols judge can seem to define. It's a powerful presence that makes everything around you seem surreal. Jeremy is an awesome lead vocalist; he moves from left to right on stage gripping you with his captivating stare that would make any susceptible woman's heart melt. Guitarists, Maurice and Dave, are strummers of note that expel a full range of powerful notes as their fingers run across the strings. Mark, like most drummers, who don't ever take centre stage, makes his presence known with a sound that resonates wildly in each song. Together, they are the perfect indie-punk electronica rockers I have ever seen live. Even after throwing back shots of what looked like evil Sambuca or Jägermeister (barring Jeremy, whose beverage of choice seems to be some hot and steamy concoction), they continued with a near flawless set triggering a crazy moshpit.
Want to know why they save "Home wrecker" for last? This is why: "Home wrecker triggers the berserk switch in any fan's brain and the result being moshers go totally wild, pushing and shoving; working up the most intense adrenaline rush (next to bungee jumping I bet) known to man. They save it for last cos' when it's all over, you feel like you've just been to the most sensational party ever and you can't get those "Here come the home wreckers baby, here come the ah, ah ahh" lyrics out of your mind. Well, at Mercury that night, being the crowd pleasers they are, they threw "Home wrecker" in the middle of the set and from then on out it was a battle to stay on your feet. I had managed to creep up to front stage and I paid dearly with a bruised hip bone after being crushed against the stage. It was muchos, muchos fun though.
What's the best thing about The Dirty Skirts? If you ask me, I'd say the lyrics. The lyrics are the most completely original and creative words put together by a South African band I've ever bothered to pay attention to.
We nightcapped the evening with a delicious boerewors roll from the regular stall opposite Mercury; I don't care if the cooking tools are a little grubby, it's the best midnight snack you will ever have. Seriously.
