Wrought Iron 2 - Return of the Wookies
This event happened about eight years ago. We found this review in our archives. We didnít publish at the time because, well, we forgot. So for those who remember this night, enjoy the nostalgia!
A sequel to the original Wrought Iron party at EVOL, Alteye presents the review for Wrought Iron 2.
Ant, Troy & Phil: two men & a chimp, enter the elaborate door which was difficult to find. With an air of esoteric importance, Ant tries to bargain us in for free. He manages himself in ok.
I light ciggie # 1, a manouvre I often employ on such occasions (any occassion, in retrospect). The place though spacious is relatively empty. The niche at the far end of the room houses a modest bar clad with vest wearing bartend-wenches and a small african guy packing a fridge. I purchase a beer, initiating my brief journey to bankrupcy.
Lower Frolic Area
I crack up ciggie # 15. T%he floor is abound with metal-heads, goths and Johan: a rhythm guitarist for "Mind the Child", a powerful heavymetal outfit I had witnessed play at such venues as: "The Wammy Bar" and downstairs at "The Mercury". His appearence is less metalhead every consecutive time I see him (upon introspection, his only previous metal attribute was his "mind the Child" T-shirt). Johan Knocks over Ant’s thirteen Rand beer.
Fred, a bald version of Max Cavallera, plunders into a fish-net like structure dangling precariously from the ceiling, its purpose & origin a matter of increasing puzzlement. He loses his glasses, I salvage them heroically.
A near complete "Mind Assault" arrive with the exception of their lead vocalist. Froncois - lead guitar - proudly pulls a "flapper" to the obvious elation of on-looking Fred. Stephan - drums - claims its his first time here. Donavan - bass - assess the surrounding faces, at alarming proximity! Patrick - Rhythm guitar - does a convincing ’Rincewind the wizard’ impersonation.
Skum with a ’K’, the self titled DJ is presented to me via Anthony, who introduces us then sidles away, his cackling and chuckling echoeing off of his wake. Skum corners me within the DJ booth and whines on about his lack of crowd response to his set. However he appears a competent enough individual, so I leave him to his devices.
Ciggie # 82 gets sparked. The sweltering heat from the overhead UV lights and the guy dressed like Edward scissorhands are unbearable. Strewn across a couch I turn to Troy, who is now incoherently drunk. I interpret his vague slurs. He seems to be suggesting the prospect of "interviewing" hot women to get them in the sack. I consider this at length then drop the thought due to my unyielding attatchment to general lazyness.
I am destracted by a couple zealously french kissing on an opposing seat. The masculine member begins to appear, in the obscurity of the piercing UV, somewhat attractive. I shudder, then investigate. I request a light for my ciggie, Egads! There is less testosterone between these two than in Nataniel: the pop singer/caberet artist.
A heavy bearded guy collapses on the floor, his demeanor reminescent of a highly intoxicated capoiera master. Only his girlfriend is impressed.
Paranoid comes on, Ant & Troy slot in for a head-bang.
The romance of Metallica, Guns & Roses, Megadeth & Pantera carried on for some time, gently playing under the pale mirrorball light. Aiden & co. commanded a worthy mosh pit here & there. All who stood and all who didn’t had what was probably a zingbanger of a party.
Thanks Aiden, Andy & co. for putting out some crunching vibes, thereby lessoning the alcahol induced nausia.
Tags . evol