Against Nature – The June Edition

How civilised: there are sofas, chairs and tables arranged in front of the stage. The first impression on entering the South Gallery of venue Proud Camden, off Chalk Farm Road. It is 9pm at the June edition of Against Nature, an evening of music and performance curated by Dickon Edwards: writer, dysfunctional dandy, flâneur, lyricist, DJ, and former member of the recording artistes Fosca and Orlando.

I am unwell from a surfeit of cheap wine the preceding evening, and make for the bar. Dim, chiefly candle-lit, lighting, is appreciated. There are scores of people present, some in early 20th-century attire, and hats. Black-and-white footage from the same decades projected behind the music stands, microphones, a keyboard, and wires of the stage, to That’s Amore, familiar jazz and classical ditties. White walls, covered in framed photographs, wooden floorboards, exposed beams. I take a seat at the back, the notebook twice catching the eye of a pale, slender young woman clad in black, who stands to the front.

A giant glitter ball above is bathed in light, and Dickon appears on stage to welcome us and to introduce The Vichy Government, the first act. A gaunt man in a cardigan administers a Yamaha keyboard, albeit with some sound problems; a youthful-looking blond chap in black tie narrates observations on subjects including Siberia; preoccupation with war against Germany; North Korea; and fly-tipping. He refers to a middle-aged audience member standing nearby as Richard Boon. A man in a hat on my right tells his companion that Mr Boon used to manage the Buzzcocks. Dickon appears beside me, I compliment him on his superb shoes: black and white creations a 1930s millionaire might sport. He wears an elegant dark suit, and circulates. The Vichy Government complete their set and depart the stage.

A man in a gold sequin jacket and postbox-red hair arrives at the bar. More red: a cheerful-looking fellow in red trousers and red Keep Calm And Carry On t-shirt has also appeared. Then the next (double) act: Jingo and Butterfield’s Tales of the Empire. A sandy-haired redcoat with military bearing and a thrusting, eye-patched peacock scamper about the stage, swaggeringly proclaim themselves gentleman adventurers in the service of Queen Victoria, long may she reign.

I cannot bear idle folk who describe a thing by simply referring to another: but in this exceptional case it may prove useful. Flashman delivers improvisational stand-up in the manner of General Melchett. Or the Mayor of London, unhinged by several glasses of Pimm’s. Apparently these two have real names, James Ross and Daniel Barker of Fat Kitten Improv. Bognor Regis, murder, taxidermy, horology, punctuated by a thunderously detonating audience. Magnificent stuff.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, Miss Crimson Skye. Burlesque extraordinaire: flaming red hair, butterfly-size eyelashes, Hannibal Lecter mask, straitjacket. She sings Patsy Cline: Crazy. Fascinating air of menace. Rends her attire, from nowhere produces a model of a severed head. A few words in a gorgeous Deep South drawl, and it is done. Murder-lesque?

Dickon introduces the final act, while all 20 of them are tuning up. The Mystery Fax Machine Orchestra, conducted and masterminded by Martin White, the fellow from earlier in the red trousers, red t-shirt and now a red jacket as well. Strings, woodwind, brass, a man with a snare drum and cymbal, I may even hazard a euphonium. Mr White and his orchestra belt out charming songs about the Trans-Carpathian Express (Kent leg); fleas; and an epic on how he came to play the accordion, which he plays while singing. The glitter ball is suddenly bathed in red light, for a brief moment there is something delightfully demonic about the singer-songwriter, surrounded by all these bright young things amid the final number, a rousing version of ‘the flea national anthem.’

It is after 11pm. Dickon ascends the stage, thanks all the acts, and invites us to stay for dancing. Next month he promises there will be another round of intriguing performances for our delectation. It is then it occurs to me he is now attired in a radiant cream suit, a proper showbiz costume change. I depart, to make the final overland trains across south west London. A sparkling, extraordinary night. 

Against Nature: The June Edition took place on 2 June, at the South Gallery of Proud Camden, The Horse Hospital, Stables Market, Chalk Farm Road, London NW1 8AH

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