[ASFTW] Diary – Kashpoint November 2011

Posted: May 27, 2013 in [ASFTW]
Tags: , , , , , ,



Sister Meatwad’s kick ass cards

One of the defining moments in our journey came about on another jaunt into London town. We’d been invited to an avant garde evening of music, art and style known as Kashpoint, a regular club night that had been running since the early noughties organised by Matthew Glammore, a new media artist, visionary and electro-pop guru. Kashpoint has a history of attracting the eyes of the fashion world and we were promised a spectacle of the weird and fabulous we wouldn’t forget. So how does a Northern metal monkey cope with entering this unfamiliar slice of the underground electro scene? By going full Gritty of course.  I’d not manifested The Gritty Chimp in public outside of Metalocalypse night and the odd drunken metal festival but this seemed the perfect occasion to play with the outfit and define the public persona. Michelle had been to Cannes earlier in the year and had begun to flesh out ideas for the documentary, spreading the word to all who would listen and recruiting some kindred spirits in the process. This culminated in the purchase of a simple wooden cutlass which when brought back to the UK embodied the will and passion for the project thanks to some late night beach banana magic. 

Banana Magic in Cannes

Banana Magic in Cannes

The Gritty  Chimp mask came with a detachable rubber baseball cap that I didn’t really care for, underneath it was a grisly patch of rubbery baldness and wirey fake black hair, it was obvious the chimp needed a hat and it just so happened I had a ropey looking joke shop velvety pirate hat that complimented the grotesque face of the  mask with just the right element of tackiness to offset the disgusting visage.

With the hat of a captain I was compelled to go full pirate. I borrowed a flouncy white shirt and waistcoat from a dear friend who drums in a pirate metal band and teamed it up with some tight fitting New York bondage pants I had from my goth days. With the cutlass in my belt, the look was complete.

Monkey pirates ahoy!

Monkey pirates ahoy!

Michelle too was developing a persona and this arrived in the form of Sister Meatwad. Michelle has been preaching the good word of The Swim for so long it was only right that an ecclesiastical element should manifest itself. For her costume she paired up a nun’s wimple with Meatwad badges and armed herself with scripture in the form of the The Revolution of Modern Art and The Modern Art of the Revolution by the English section of the Situationalist International and a fuckload of DVD screeners. 

Sister Meatwad

Sister Meatwad

So, dolled up like no night I’ve ever been on before we headed out to the tube. I saved the mask for the venue lest I fall under a train, visibility being the main restricting factor in the sweaty mask of chimp. We took in a comedy night first of all, Michelle’s mate (and massive Venture Fan) Paul Gannon was rocking a geek inspired evening of stand-up and improv. Arriving late we crept quietly to the side of the bar, whispering our drinks order lest we disturb the performance. A few belly laughs and giggles later with the booze doing its trick it was time for us to head to Kashpoint.

 Our journey is peppered with a rash of unfathomable coincidence born of a communal fountain of luck and hard-core blagging on god-like levels from the Queen of Scheme, Michelle. It just so happened that the venue for Kashpoint was Moonlighting in Soho, the very club that a year before we were lucky enough to take Venture Bros creator Chris McCulloch to for a Pulp aftershow party following their performance at the Wireless festival in Hyde park. To cover that day briefly, following the interview I did for Adult Swim UK Chris mentioned he was coming over for the gig. We met up the following summer, Michelle having blagged us some guest passes. We watched Grace Jones and Pulp together and danced the night away in Moonlighting only for the band to turn up. Chris met Jarvis, we danced to Tina Turner, the drink flowed and we crept back to normal life a little star struck knowing that we needed more. It was that night, gazing up at the sign outside the club Michelle revealed her plan for the documentary..

 “We went outside so you could have a ciggy – and while we were out there I told you about the story in one of Moore’s magical workings which was based on the psycho-geography of Bloomsbury and the nature of art/creation of art. He talked about how creativity requires both the lunar and the solar aspects – the imagination and inspiration of ideas/the moon, PLUS the daylight toil and craft, the honing and the sweat/frustration of the sun. One without the other results in inferior work. Then and there I asked you if you’d help me make my documentary – I told you there probably wasn’t much in the way of fame or riches or glory in it and that it might take a while and be a bit of slog – and boy was I right on that score – but that hopefully it’d be a bit of an adventure too – and you agreed – and then we went back in and Chris and his mate Michele wondered where we’d got to – we’d been nattering that long…” – Michelle

Bar Italia with Chris and Michele and Michelle for some post-Pulp coffee

But to get back to Kashpoint… We arrived at the club, greeted by a gathering crowd of the most fabulously bizarre guests I’d ever seen on a night out. Mask on and names ticked off the list we descended the stairs to be greeted by professional photographers capturing the guests as they arrived. Posing in the mask and looking around at my fellow patrons I felt distinctly under dressed, the sheer effort in some of the clobber being worn that evening made my mind boil. I cautiously approached the bar and ordered drinks and whilst Michelle shot some footage on her camcorder and I was immediately approached by a couple of people wanting to poke and prod the mask. Feeling a little more comfortable we took to the dancefloor for a bit of Northern Soul and disco and then coincidence knocked me sideways again as Tina Turner came on over the sound sytem and once again we were in the presence of Jarvis Cocker. Awestruck I danced along, no longer thinking of the beads of sweat running through my red raw eyelids, instead revelling in the magic and majesty of this bizarre evening.

Inflatable lady

Inflatable lady

After a few more songs we were cleared off the dancefloor to make way for the first of many acts, this was a troop of rubber clad dancers with oversized, inflatable instruments dancing to cutting edge electro. The night continued and the mask came off lest I pass out, a bottle of chilled pink wine worked its spell and we saw the night to its messy conclusion.

Matthew Glammore

Matthew Glammore

We chatted to all manner of folk in the smoking area, Sister Meatwad touting The Swim to anyone with space for a DVD on their person. The sword came into its element and became communal, everyone succumbing to its piratey charm. We must have put it down somewhere at some point to dance and it simply vanished. After the music died we swaggered outside for a cab. “We lost the sword” I lamented in the taxi, “it’s not about the sword” replied Michelle. And it wasn’t.

As an extra treat, here’s the video we did from that evening

and also this…

Ok, probably best we didn't find the sword after all.

Ok, probably best we didn’t find the sword after all.


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