WORST HANG OVER F U C K
I AM SO DRUNK and all I can think about is josh so someone just kiss kne or something
i feel as though i am made of echoes.
there is a pattern on the curtains in the shape of my fingers, entwined in l o o s e locks of golden hair.
i can’tSHOUT loud e r than a (whisper) quiet voice, which trickles out my lips and falls through my shadowed hands
S H OUT-ing in an empty…
I feel as though I have been writing in melodies my entire life. Maybe I should write about what is real, what I see. But what I see string themselves in harmonies, wrapped around limbs behind closed bedroom doors. I hear constant keys of the piano when I look at myself in the mirror, and everything I taste is a crescendo; the boy I love is A minor but his skin sounds like F# on my taste buds. The world hangs itself on bars, and I sift in and out of 4/4 beats.
The third of the monthly Velvet Cave, April’s nostalgic autumnal psychedelic hub echoed through the ether and radiated across city rooftops, into the hearts and minds of time travellers from decades ago.
Red, green and yellow speckled lights flickered across the stone floors and velvet walls, the moon hanging its craters above leather couches upon which lovely ladies and gentlemen in paisley shirts drifted in and out of breathless conversation. The Beatles made appearances in holograms; the stage bare except for the hazy black and white shapes of projected 1960s icons.
I felt myself detach from the tangible flesh in the atmosphere of a new sound the Cave encompassed in the autumn: reminiscent of early morning orange sunshine between the cracks in wilting leaves. Became an ephemeral being floating in the intoxicating skies, the thickened smoky, navy sounds, travelling across the ceiling. Ken Blements’ blooming, spinning decks embodied the souls of the people: the concoction of imagining outstretched hands, twirling hems.
Wrapped in denim, the singer of surprise support band Kill City Creeps moved amongst the excruciatingly gorgeous women who came in threefold, enveloped in black lace and blue velvet on keyboard, captivatingly electric fingers on guitar, the dance beat of the drums, and the microphones echoing the lush lips of red heartbreak. Completely immersed in their sound, the crowd soaked up the sonic feel, became aesthetically intangible, the movers and the shakers in a convulsed pulse of pure vibe. Overtaking our bodies, the Kill City Creeps started the lineup in saturated mirror-ball coloured light.
With a new deluxe pink 12-inch Whip it Out released in early April, the second performance of the 50s/60s influenced fusion of rock ‘n’ roll, punk, surf and garage resounded off the goose-bumped silken skin. This was the dirty debauched sound of the Whipped Cream Chargers, entrancing the crowd with their hypnotic rhythms that made everyone shake in a trembling awe of a neurotic evening, filled with the vibrating realization of the vast emptiness of space.
A coital crescendo: eclectic visions collided across the room, bursting from the magnum rhythms of strings and drumming beats, intertwining with the raw vocals of Sebastian’s sensuous chords.
The wondrous Velvet Gallagher, as usual, saturated the evening with his selection of rare vinyls and other amorous DJs – Lovehandles’ music grasped us by the waist and sent you spinning ‘round in velvet, on velvet, on velvet.
Exiting the walls of the time-travel miasma, the words we own the night painted on the wall in white projected onto my retinas; and in the hazy hours of the early silver morning, whilst the city slept or partied on in some other alternate dimension, Velvet’s words lightly pressed themselves onto my eyelids and my mind was buzzing with the feel of the Velvet Cave.
Add VELVET CAVE on Facebook for updates on upcoming shows: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003485593578
Listen to KILL CITY CREEPS:
http://killcitycreeps.bandcamp.com/
Listen to WHIPPED CREAM CHARGERS:
http://whippedcreamchargers.bandcamp.com/
velvety things coming
On an autumn evening Daydream and I walked the streets of Sydney to hear the city’s finest spin their collections of rare ‘60s vinyl behind the curtains of the Velvet Cave. At first a very hollow dwelling, the Velvet Cave blossomed into a really spectacular sight, the mass of locals nestling themselves within the patterned cave walls. Featuring a whole range of DJs including Shaun Sprowles of La Mancha Negra (who played a pre-Horrors DJ set last month), the Flash & Crash DJs combined with Kill City Creeps’ very own Daniel Darling.
Ken Blements spun a great selection of rare and obscure vinyls under the oscillating projections, featuring a range of bands from around the world including Germany’s Second Life’s with Hate, Mexico’s The Survival with their track Old People and of course United States bands such as Horses, Hunger, Beauregard Ajax, and Steve King. The crowd was laid back, relaxing upon the leather lounges sipping on a beer or two watching a rendition of a ‘60s go-go dancer movie’ and shaken’ under the green light within her cornered cage. Blements’ intricate ear for original sounds filled the inner Cave walls with psychedelic vibes.
Sydney band East River played their set at the stroke of midnight under the coloured illusions of surreal light-projected prints. A three-piece including a guitarist/singer, organist and drummer created a fusion of psychedelic sounds that made the Cave throb with electric pulses. The crowd fed off their saturated sounds and danced closer to the foot of the stage, intertwining their limbs. With such an ethereal performance, East River’s sound was reminiscent of the iconic NUGGETS compilation, and their pulsating oscillations and heavy psyche beats could be heard (and felt) at the farthest reaches and deepest depths of the cage.
Velvet Gallagher took his place behind the decks as he spun his own collection of psychedelic garage pulsations. His playlist, which included Screaming Jay Hawkins’ I Put a Spell on You, Dandelion Seeds by July and Buffalo Springfield’s My Soul kept the crowd thumping away on the dance floor.
