“How did I get here who gave me the key, slipped in my hand so secretly, what unseen hand brought me face to face to face to face with all this and more in this pagan place?” A pagan place? It might seem strange that a pretty obscure song from a vastly underrated indie eighties band would be my start point on my journey into the heart of the night. To me no other amphetamine fuelled rock anthem or uplifting transcendental dance track can express the pure simplicity of the entry into the unknown that is nightlife. Sure there are others that have come close, Tom Waits and Jonny Cash, even Fat Boy Slim come to mind and I am sure you all have you our own. It is not the song it is the release point. Simply night and its attendant nocturnal perversions is what Max Sleaze is about- the thrill of the other, the power of excess, the ecstasy of the experience, spreading the contagion of pleasure just for the sake of it, quite simply being sleazy it’s getting away with it. On the surface it might not always appear to be all pleasure, but in its entirety, the highs the lows, it is the rollercoaster of the experience that is the thing.
The only rule in the nightscape is live and let live, you leave your judgements, your day job, you worries outside when you enter a club, a venue or even a field in the middle of nowhere. What you do during the day is irrelevant in this, yes I call it, a pagan place, pagan in the loose sense of a breakdown of the social barriers that are forced upon by our roles, our preconceptions and powers that be. Without getting to heavy there is nothing wrong with feeling good and those that tell you otherwise more often that not have a hidden agenda. Hedonism even for its own sake, with consenting adults is fun; to paraphrase the farmer “it tastes so good coz it eats so good.”
Take Cape Town nightlife, although deliciously diverse, has a common thread winding through from the pretentious parties across the constantly changing clubscape and on, deeper into the underground and out there to the infamous outdoor experiences. Till eventually it slides inexorably to that late night early/ morning “now where am I and how did I get here” feeling. Simply it’s the strange, the weird, the wonderful and the wicked that always seem to happen at night. It’s as if the stunning sunsets that the Mother City offers us, gives an easier passport to the illicit and an opportunity to deviate and taste, however temporarily, the forbidden fruit. That is what Max Sleaze is about, apart from his annoying habit of something’s talking about himself in the third person, it is the fun and the mental that is his fundamental.
Not to say he is he is not cynical, not judgemental he is not afraid to tell at is it and call a spade a septic tank if the situation warrants it. Some people who just want to shit on your parade deserve the shit thrown back at them from time to time and sometimes subtle just don’t work! So from edgy underground dance music to angst indie bands right through to commercial grooves if likeminded people dig it then I, Max Sleaze is all for it.
It’s a beat ethos best summed up by the legendary Kerouac quote:
“because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”
It is time – night awaits.
*Come into my parlour, Sail in at my shore, Drink my soul dry, There is always more
There is always more after, Now fly on my carpet, Look into my face, And see the
Heart of Man*
“The road to excess leads to the palace of wisdom… for we never know what is enough until we know what is more than enough.” William Blake