Showing posts with label Purple Pussycat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Purple Pussycat. Show all posts

Sunday, 23 September 2012

Drunk At Vogue: we are unified, we are together, we are One...



A few years ago I was resident at an 80s night at the now defunct Purple Pussycat. The venue was kind of raucous and fun. I’d gotten used to playing there and I wondered if I could pitch a night. I’d decided ‘Drunk At Vogue’ was the perfect name for a night the second I heard Carrie Bradshaw say it in Season 4 of ‘Sex and the City’. Also because of that show, and because it was one of my favourite songs as a kid, the now ubiquitous ‘Got To Be Real’ by Cheryl Lynn was the first song I put on the playlist. At the time, Horse Meat Disco threw intermittent parties at the Pussycat so I couldn’t pitch them a straight-up disco night. Instead I went for a ‘not dance music, just music for dancing’ vibe. The playlist was disco, 80s synth, vintage pop, electro, Italo. The idea was to treat dance tunes just like pop songs. Ronnie Dyson, Little Boots, Kid Creole, Chic, Eurythmics, Cristina… But the venue wasn’t into it, and the 80s night finished, and the venue closed down. Such is nightlife.


Soon after that I became resident at Off The Hook. After that night took a hiatus I decided to help resurrect it in a new venue, with a new vibe. It worked really well and we’re still going strong. Bolstered by that success I started yapping about Drunk At Vogue again. When I mentioned it to my friends Gary, Thom and James, they saw potential in it from the off. And not just musical potential either: videos, outfits, performance art, and a whole host of New York and Manchester references to play with. Suddenly there were four of us and the venue was obvious, Kraak; new home to Off The Hook, blank canvas, backstreet, away from the Village – but not too far – hard to find, sweaty.


You can spout all you like about what you want your night to be, but it doesn’t mean a thing until the place starts to fill. If it fills. What the punters play in their rooms before they show up, what they decide to wear, or not wear, the videos they post on your page the day before the party; these are all out of your hands, and they matter. Drunk At Vogue Party Number 1 filled up within the hour. The outfits were some of the best I’ve ever seen on a night out. Shoestring glamour and genderfuckery and fun and hot and funny. Larry Levan and Mai Tai and ‘The Boss’ and avante garde drag and Chris on the door in his underwear.


We threw a boat party on the Irwell this year. It was magic. Our ‘Gay Sex In The 70s Party’ for Pride weekend was our best night to date, and actually really emotional. We’ve set the bar pretty high for our first birthday. It’s on October 5th. Everyone is welcome. You might be surprised that something like this is happening here in Manchester. So come and see us. I’m never sure where all the amazing punters come from. But there they are. 


Legends is going to shut soon. We didn’t win that one. We have to invest elsewhere in the city. Manchester is changing faster than ever and it sometimes feels they like don’t want you to keep dancing, but you have to keep moving…









Sunday, 1 November 2009

Fame!


Great big thanks to everyone who came down to The Purple Pussycat on Friday night. What a brilliant laugh. I played a three hour set of my very favourite eighties tunes including the following (anoraks amongst you might spot a couple from 1990 too …)

Clouds Across The Moon -The Rah Band

Since Yesterday - Strawberry Switchblade

Forget Me Nots - Patrice Rushen
IOU - Freeez
System Addict - Five Star

Real Gone Kid - Deacon Blue

Thriller - Michael Jackson

Land Of Make Believe - Bucks Fizz

Give Me The Night - George Benson

Fade To Grey - Visage
The Goonies R Good Enough - Cyndi Lauper

Sweet Little Mystery - Wet Wet Wet

I Don’t Wanna Fall In Love - Jane Child
Drop The Pilot - Joan Armatrading



Hand On Your Heart - Kylie Minogue

Walk Of Life - Dire Straits

Breakout - Swingout Sister

The Look Of Love - ABC

Happy Hour - The Housemartins

When Doves Cry - Prince

We Close Our Eyes - Go West

Back To Life - Soul II Soul

Holiday Road - Lyndsey Buckingham

Invisible Touch - Genesis
Dancing On The Ceiling - Lionel Richie

Crash - The Primitives

Ain’t Nothing Going On But The Rent - Gwen Guthrie

Down Under - Men At Work
Ask - The Smiths
Ai No Corrida - Quincy Jones

Boys Don’t Cry - The Cure

Come On Eileen - Dexy’s Midnight Runners

The Only Way Is Up - Yazz And The Plastic Population



Fame is the last Friday of every month, free entry and a great bar.

Tuesday, 6 May 2008

The Stag Do

Ouch. Eek. Ow. My body is a miscellany of incipient bruises, minor abrasions and flaring cold sores, and God alone knows what the insides are like, but I survived my first stag do. Not only that, I had a ball doing it. A lovely bunch of fellas, not the type of crowd to spike the groom and put him on the train to Leeds with nothing but an inflatable woman under his arm and a sock on his cock, instead we had a proper good laugh drinking our way around The Ox, Knott Fringe, Duke's, Mojo’s and The Purple Pussycat with some dancing and latterly some considerable sweating on my part. I coulda shoulda woulda called it a night then of course but I don’t recall ever saying no to after hours debauchery and I have no intention of doing so now just because I’m thirty. So it was off to Tim and Dan’s in Chorlton for all-night records, smoking and salty talk, followed by a pleasingly chilled walk home in the Bank Holiday sunshine next morning.

A veerrry slow Bank Holiday Monday (have I ever had any other kind??) with Joffrey, Neil, Pugling, plus my usual dread and hatred of going to bed with a hangover. I wish I knew why I loathed it so? Still in advanced physical meltdown now. Managing to get fiddly bits of work done though. Slowly digesting enormous carb lunch from Gregg’s and listening to clarinet rehearsals from the music rooms across the way which began as soothing interludes then breached the upper reaches of squalling “weasel “weasel” scales, then back again. Might pop a request through for a bit of Cagney and Lacey. I do realise that’s the third mention of C&L in a week’s blogging. It can’t be helped.