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September 26, 2018

BREVIEW: MK ULTRA @ The Patrick Centre 21.09.18

Words by Charlotte Heap / Pics by Brian Slater – courtesy of Rosie Kay Dance Company

It is eighteen months since I reviewed the world premiere of Rosie Kay’s MK ULTRA: we were ‘steeped in alternative facts’ then – and now? Some might say we are stewing in a surreal, post-fact society.

Kay, as artistic director, has spent time reshaping the narrative of this psychedelic trip: stripping out surplus conspiracies and focusing on her favourite: the seemingly far-fetched notion that the CIA’s brainwashing programme, for which the show is named, did not stop in the 1960s but continued covertly to create malfunctioning pop star puppets like Britney Spears and Justin Bieber.

Shining a searchlight on society’s obsession with symbolism, hypersexuality and the Illuminati, the show is starkly staged with a high gloss floor reflecting kaleidoscopic projections and the sinuous synchronicity of the dancers. An unsettling, blinking all-seeing eye watches over the audience as we are spun through the story of a star being conditioned, and battling against, a government programme of mind control. Kay’s combination of daring dance, slick visuals and pulsing beats pull us down the rabbit hole with her.

Rosie Kay Dance Company (RKCD) choreography is challenging for both dancer and audience. Familiar moves, such as Michael Jackson’s iconic crotch grab and the ubiquitous twerking of modern music videos, are distorted and developed. The dancers embody the torturous puppet-making process: from the frenetic and, at times, frantic to the sometimes grotesquely sexual, we are forced to confront the conspiracy head on.

The seven dancers, clad in butterfly colours and conspiracy symbols, achieve stunning synergy at times. The solos, almost MTV moments, are intimate and unsettling insights into a visceral struggle for free will. This is clever choreography: it is as hypnotising as it is uncomfortable to watch. Intercut with images of a fragile Britney Spears, it feels voyeuristic to the viewer. Here is the rise and demise of the pop star: like a car crash, it is impossible to look away.

The reworking of the original show has focused the narrative on an individual. Kay felt that as a society, we are now au fait with even far-fetched conspiracy theories, and this enabled her to explore more deeply the supposed collaboration between Walt Disney and the CIA. Symbols are sewn in to the fabric of the show (and costumes): subtlety is not the approach but it needn’t be. The show is stunning to watch but the conspiracy (to me, a cynic) is laughable. The original show cleverly intercut snippets of young Brummies discussing the Illuminati which acted as startling reminder of the prevalence, and passivity, of believers. This show is slicker, with a more defined story: split into the traditional acts of a play, with a documentary-style narrator, it seems to have lost some of its direct challenge to the audience.

MK ULTRA is the final, political episode in an RKCD trilogy – previous installments 5 Soldiers and There is Hope (covering war and religion respectively) demonstrate Kay’s commitment to creating dance that covers unusual but important ground. Societal shifts in the last 18 months (President Trump now makes an unwelcome appearance in the show’s visuals) provide a more sinister backdrop for the story. As a standalone show, it is impactful and impressive – a dark twisted fantasy.

Having seen the original iteration, however, I’m left lamenting the removal of some of the societal context which challenged the viewer to consider their own role in a post-truth world. The individual narrative gives the viewer the opportunity to distance themselves from the cautionary tale: we may be brainwashed, but we’ll never be pop stars. So why does it matter?

MK ULTRA (official trailer) – Rosie Kay Dance Company

Rosie Kay Dance Company are currently touring MK ULTRA across the UK, until their finale show at the LEAP Festival in Liverpool on 10^th November. For full tour details, visit www.mkultra.dance/tour-info

For more on MK Ultra, visit www.mkultra.dance

For more on Rosie Kay Dance Company, visit www.rosiekay.co.uk

For more from The Patrick Centre and the wider Hippodrome programme, visit www.birminghamhippodrome.com

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NOT NORMAL – NOT OK is a campaign to encourage safety and respect within live music venues, and to combat the culture of sexual assault and aggression – from dance floor to dressing room.

To sign up to NOT NORMAL – NOT OK, click here. To know more about the NOT NORMAL – NOT OK sticker campaign, click here.

September 26, 2018September 26, 2018

INTERVIEW: Liquid Cheeks

Words & by pic by Emily Doyle / Pics by Danny Holden

*Liquid Cheeks support The Taboo Club at The Victoria (John Bright St) on Saturday 29^th September – alongside Lilac Noise, as part of Birmingham Review’s live music showcase. For more direct info visit the Facebook event page here, or for online ticket sales click here*

Inside The Night Owl, the monthly art and music showcase Kaleidoscope is in full swing. Outside in the smoking area, Ben Ollis Gibbs and Greg Clarke of Liquid Cheeks are perched on one of the picnic tables. They’re big fans of the night – it’s where they chose to debut their latest single, ‘Serendipity’.

“I think the concept of art upstairs, music downstairs… it’s wicked,” says Ben. “I mean obviously, I sell my art as well.”

“It shows that Birmingham, it’s so much more than just the whole B-town thing,” he muses. “We’re not in the state of being hungover from a corporate explosion anymore, there’s far more to it and these people have always been around. I mean, coming from Redditch we haven’t always known that crowd, so getting to really see what’s going on is excellent.”

“There’s a lot of great bands as well,” Greg interjects, “so it’s just nice that they’re all together and everyone gets to know each other.”

Ben and Greg are no strangers to the Midland’s live music scene. Most would recognise them from the now defunct Byron Hare, who were championed by BBC Introducing and played Birmingham Town Hall in their final months. They’ve brought the Byron Hare song ‘Serendipity’ with them into Liquid Cheeks. I ask the boys else how they’re carrying on the narrative.

“It takes it back to the start really,” Ben explains. “It was me, Greg and Jodie, and we’d go to the pub over the road to Greg’s Dad’s house, then we’d go back to Greg’s Dad’s house after he’d gone to work, and we’d just write music. That’s kind of what Byron Hare always was, until we realised that Jodie’s voice was far more than that in terms of a presence. That’s why we became a rock band. So it’s nice to go back to just writing and kind of not having any inhibitions about it.”

This ethos is evident in Liquid Cheek’s first release, ‘He’s A Flower’; three minutes of softly spoken indie rock, it rails against toxic masculinity. BBC WM Introducing gave it a spin, describing the band as ‘very pink’.

“With a lot of our imagery we want to be kind of touchy feely, and a little bit provocative in that sense,” tells Ben. “We’re men, we’re heterosexual men – but it’s fine to be a bit effeminate. Especially coming from a town like Redditch, all of my life I’ve had to deal with people throwing shit at me like, ‘So what are you, gay?’ and it’s like firstly, that’s not an insult, and secondly…no? So we wanna push that a little bit. What is it to be a man? Is there a place for this kind of alpha anymore?”

Greg nods along. Liquid Cheeks will be making their live debut alongside The Taboo Club and Lilac Noise at The Victoria (John Bright St) on Saturday 29^th September . I ask them how preparations are going.

“It’s all been very slapdash ’cause we were offered the gig before we even thought we could do a gig,” admits Greg. “Like, way before we thought we could do a gig.”

“It was the last Kaleidoscope!” Ben remembers suddenly. “We were here when we were offered the gig, and we went to The Crown and we had a drink and we said ‘I don’t think we can do it. It’s a shame because we really want to but I don’t think we’re gonna be able to,’ and then we finished the drink and then by the end we were on the phone to Ed at Birmingham Review and we were saying ‘yeah yeah no we’re happy to do it. Yeah, we’ll play it,’ and then we hung up and we were like ‘ah fuck…shall we book a practice next week?’”

“It’s good though,” adds Greg, “because when you’ve got stuff like that it forces you to fucking get on with it because as a writer or whatever you can just dwindle on things and be like, ‘Ah it’s not good enough yet,’ but when it has to be ready it fucking is.”

“Yeah definitely it’s good to have the boost up your bottom,” Ben agrees. It seems Liquid Cheeks like to work under pressure, as he goes on to tell of the band’s origin.

“In all honesty, we were at The Dark Horse, and we’d had a miscommunication, me and Greg. And Greg was telling people we were releasing music on Monday and I was like ‘…are we?’ This was on like a fucking Friday. And we didn’t have a band name, we didn’t have anything.”

“It was going to be Wet Face Society, wasn’t it?” Greg interjects.

“Wet Face Society after David Bowie in ‘Five Years’, he ‘cried so much his was wet,’” quotes Ben, “I liked that that painted such a graphic picture, but it also kind of touches on our generation just being sad about life because of how fucked we are. That’s something I can definitely relate to. So we wanted to go along that kind of graphic sort of line, but yeah Liquid Cheeks just ended up being what it was.”

Greg grins to himself, goes to speak, then hesitates. “Because… no, I shouldn’t… it sounds like diarrhea do you not think?” I’m glad someone said it. Moving swiftly on, I ask the pair what their audience can expect from their set at The Victoria on Saturday 29th September.

“Karaoke!” laughs Ben. Greg concurs. “It is glorified karaoke – for now anyway. It’s gonna become an actual band, but now it’s just glorified karaoke.”

“We want to put a show on,” says Ben. “We wanna really make it quite personal, quite one-to-one. It’s just going to be just us on the stage, so there’s not that backbone of support of musicians. It’s just me, Greg, and a room of people.”

‘Serendipity’ – Liquid Cheeks

Liquid Cheeks will be supporting The Taboo Club at The Victoria on Saturday 29th September, as part of Birmingham Review’s live music showcase. Joining them on the bill will also be Stoke’s melodic electro four piece, Lilac Noise – playing their debut Birmingham gig.

For more direct event info visit the Facebook event page here, or for online ticket sales click here.

For more on Liquid Cheeks, visit www.facebook.com/liquidcheeks

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NOT NORMAL – NOT OK is a campaign to encourage safety and respect within live music venues, and to combat the culture of sexual assault and aggression – from dance floor to dressing room.

To sign up to NOT NORMAL – NOT OK, click here. To know more about the NOT NORMAL – NOT OK sticker campaign, click here.

September 11, 2018

BREVIEW: The August Showcase with Lice, The Lizards, The Hungry Ghosts, Whitelight @ Hare & Hounds 12.08.18

Words by Ed King / Pics by Paul Reynolds

Urrgghh… a gig on a Sunday, who has the energy/serotonin left?

Apparently quite a few people, as I saunter (stumble) into the Hare & Hounds Room 2 alongside a very respectable crowd. Numberswise that is, they could all be slow boiling lost children at home for all I know. Or care. My Sunday roll call of compassion is often woefully one-sided. But a strong tail end of the weekend audience have turned out to support RDE and Setting Son’s August showcase – with local lads (and it is a bit of a sausage fest tonight) Whitelight, The Lizards, and The Hungry Ghosts all supporting Joe Talbot’s label champions, Lice.

Whitelight, a band I’ve not heard of before tonight but who I’m reliably told have come from the aftermath of Shaake, take up the first space on the bill – a stripped back twosome, guitar and drums, delivering a big room sound that far surpasses their square inches on stage.

Jokingly I said words to that effect would be my review, but adding ‘fuck me they rock’ probably sums it up quite nicely. There may be a few disjointed moments tonight, in set relying too heavily on the ‘break… and kick in’ rock power play, but the musicianship from this arena filling sound is a more than a little impressive. I could even use the word ‘Hendrix’ and not feel like too much of a fraud. But keep an eye on those listings and make your own addled mind up about them. Whitelight; you have been warned.

Next up are The Hungry Ghosts, a band I love to the core but feel compelled to judge with an extra stern eye. And ear. And gut. And all those things I need to be truthful. But having a replacement bass player on stage tonight – with Miles Cocker filling in for Emily Doyle over a few of the summer months – the most immediate of my knee jerk commentaries is ‘an overwhelming newness’ to their performance tonight.

It’s exciting, it’s rock and roll, but it’s also a little… The stage, for a start, feels too small, with the proficient wall of blues rock tumbling over the first song and smothering ‘Death Rattle Blues’ – the sophomore on the set list tonight. I’ve seen The Hungry Ghosts crammed into much tighter corners, but something is uncomfortably full tonight. And yet there is a… about it all. And as I wrestle with the ellipses that will no doubt be haunting my copy later on, I write ‘too much of something’, ‘this band just keep getting better’, before adding ‘I don’t know’ to my drunk spider scrawl.

‘Lazaro’ follows, with Joe (INSERT SURNAME HERE)’s vocals feeling well rounded for a weekend finale, before a bit of a swing/miss from new song ‘Jesus Fever’ and a somewhat lacking rendition of the tried and tested ‘Super King King’ – one of my longstanding favourites from this band’s slaughterhouse repertoire. But when you’re close to perfection it’s hard to stay consistent, and exciting ebbs and discouraging flows continue from ‘the ghosts’ set tonight – yet I am, once again, left both curious and eager. For all its ferocity and fallacy, it feels like something is brewing in The Hungry Ghosts’ set list tonight, with this Sunday showcase perhaps just first public introduction to an exciting evolution. But never fear; we’ll see/hear from The Hungry Ghosts soon enough, and ‘Shake the Devil’ will no doubt be in there somewhere near the start.

It is now that I must issue an honest, albeit rather unsatisfactory, apology, as I miss The Lizards’ set due to cider and an earth shatteringly endearing band I fell afoul of at the downstairs bar. But I shall leave you with two pearls of wisdom: 1) Orchard Pig cider is not as benign as it sounds, and 2) Liquid Cheeks. And I’ll bet my pension (currently about £32 and a first edition Roald Dahl) that in 18 months time you’ll not need an explanation for the latter.

Time… enough. Attack ships on fire introduce the headline act for tonight, the Bristolian barrage of fun that are Lice. Well documented for bad time keeping and guttural prose, both attributes close to my heart, it is the band’s frontman that I’m most keen to see in full swing. But an army of low thumped drums, distorted feedback, and restrained punk pretensions (if such a thing can exist in the realms beyond oxymoron) are soon taking my eyes across the rough edged four piece. Frontman, Alistair Shuttleworth, who has set the stage for such anarchic atrocities as Fat White Family, owns the Sunday night dwindling crowd from the off – delivering his trademark prose in a way that makes me sit up straight yet miss every word. A linguistic trick I almost love and hate him for in the same short, sharp intake of breath.

But they are commanding, even to a room that seems half empty from the last time I stood in it (The Lizards, cider, downstairs bar, shit journalist…) and I am quickly moving my shoulders in that way a middle aged man does when he wants to let go. Lice last played in Birmingham “on this stage, almost exactly a year ago” as part of the Killer Wave all day August band Holiday event in 2017, and it’s good to see them headline after such a well earned 12 months.

Oddly, even incongruously (if I were a devotee of Paul Dacre) polite, each song gets a stomach propelled “thank you” as Lice blast though their short songs and punchy set – delivering a well meant audio assault that makes me want to invite them, and their backline, to my next birthday party. Superb, SUPERB FUCKING PERCUSSION. But jumping from the tirade of an angry child to the wisdom of someone with something to say, Lice live up to their hype – as the Joe Talbot endorsed ‘fuck you we don’t care’ send out a set that shows this band mean business. And, even somewhat perversely, I believe them. If my mum were here she would probably file for adoption.

Sunday gigs are hard to promote, Lord knows I know – having spent over a year of my life doing it week in week out. But Setting Son and RDE have delivered this end of the weekend ensemble with fine fettle, setting a backbone of local luminaries against a visiting headline act who well deserve the attention. And, wonderfully, there was a good crowd to receive it. Even if the previous 48 hours have left the room’s frontal cortex a little bereft… well, mine at least.

Ha, and now to write a review about it (my ‘get it down as soon as you get home’ policy). But beyond ‘research Whitelight’, ‘The Hungry Ghosts’ new stuff’, ‘buy The Lizards a drink’ and ‘see Lice play on their home turf’, the South Park back catalogue is about all I have left. I bet Burroughs never had this problem. Possibly a bad comparison. Now, where’s that corkscrew and laptop power cable gone…

Lice @ Hare & Hounds 12.08.18 / Paul Reynolds

For more on Lice, visit www.facebook.com/licebristol

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The Lizards – supporting Lice @ Hare & Hounds 12.08.18 / Paul Reynolds

For more on The Lizards, visit www.soundcloud.com/allyourfriendsarelizards

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The Hungry Ghosts – supporting Lice @ Hare & Hounds 12.08.18 / Paul Reynolds

For more on The Hungry Ghosts, visit www.thehungryghosts.co.uk

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Whitelight – supporting Lice @ Hare & Hounds 12.08.18 / Paul Reynolds

For more on Whitelight, visit www.officialwhitelight.com

For more from Setting Son, including further event listings and online ticket sales, visit www.facebook.com/settingsonrecords

For more on the Hare & Hounds, including venue details and further event listings, visit www.hareandhoundskingsheath.co.uk

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NOT NORMAL – NOT OK is a campaign to encourage safety and respect within live music venues, and to combat the culture of sexual assault and aggression – from dance floor to dressing room.

To sign up to NOT NORMAL – NOT OK, click here. To know more about the NOT NORMAL – NOT OK sticker campaign, click here.

September 10, 2018September 10, 2018

BREVIEW: Boulet Brothers’ Dragula @ The Nightingale Club 07.09.18

Words & illustrations by Emily Doyle

The freaks and geeks of Birmingham’s drag scene have arrived at The Nightingale Club in their droves to welcome the Boulet Brothers on their first UK Tour. Dragula has finally made it to the UK, and it’s about time.

For the uninitiated, Dragula is to Ru Paul’s Drag Race what I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out of Here is to Pop Idol. The show started life as a live talent show on the LA and San Francisco nightlife scene, before becoming a straight-to-YouTube TV show with a cult audience. It’s since been picked up by Canadian cable channel OutTV, and with its third season in the works it shows no signs of slowing down.

The Boulet Brothers emerge to the strains of the show’s growling theme music. They are bathed in red light. Making no assumptions about their audience’s familiarity with the show, the brothers Dracmorda and Swanthula brief the crowd on Dragula’s aim to, “locate, articulate and elevate alternative forms of drag.” They make no bones about their stance on inclusivity, throwing only a little bit of shade at the Drag Race model when they declare that it, “doesn’t matter what’s between your legs” in drag.

Once the formalities are out the way, the Boulet Brothers introduce the first act of the evening: “Birmingham, put those filthy hands together, and welcome to the stage, Vander Von Odd!”

Resplendent in a Batwing cape and winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut a man, Vander Von Odd sets the tone for the evening. Crowned the ‘World’s First Drag Supermonster’ at the conclusion of Dragula’s first season, Odd has a lot to answer for. Her first performance is an impassioned lip sync routine to some euphoric electropop from Sweden’s iamamiwhoami. It’s triumphant, and culminates in an in-your-face nude illusion reveal. When Odd returns to the stage later in the evening, however, she’s upped her game – stumbling out into the spotlight, an umbilical cord of red silk tied around her waist, and disappearing behind the curtains. She wears a white latex ballerina outfit and picks her way across the stage en pointe to the strains of ‘Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow’. It’s fragile, arresting, and heartbreaking.

Not all of Dragula’s performers are pitching quite such high brow acts. Season 2 runner up, James Majesty, treats us to two salacious performances, spraying the crowd with beer and slapping the faces of the front row. A provocative routine to glam rockers Semi Precious Weapons sees Majesty fully nude by the end of the song – there’s no illusion here. Alongside her drag, Majesty has been both a sex worker and educator; her shameless attitude is contagious.

Season 1’s Meatball injects a little more humour into the evening with her performances. Strutting on stage with an old McDonald’s advert playing on the screen behind her, she adjusts her yellow bodysuit and produces a paper bag. Her wig is bright red, yellow highlights at the front mirroring the golden arches on the screen behind her. Her lipsync drips with attitude, cutting between Ke$ha’s ‘Woman’ and a monologue ripped straight from YouTube about a woman being denied an extra McRib at a drive-thru (if you’re as clueless as I was, search for ‘tell ‘em Carla sent you’ and all will be revealed). By the end she is tossing room temperature hamburgers (mercifully still wrapped) from the paper bag into the audience. The gentleman behind me catches one and eats it with vigour.

The Boulet Brothers take some time out of the show to record a message from the crowd to Season 2’s Victoria Black, who’s had to pull out of the tour due to illness. In their words, however, her loss is our gain. Atlanta performer, Abhora, is here to take her place and presents what might be the most disarming performances of the night.

The word “Abhora” has barely left our host’s lips before the lights dim, and the crashing guitar of Marilyn Manson’s ‘Astonishing Panorama of the End Times’ fades in over the PA system. At the far end of the venue Abhora emerges, wading through the crowd on stilts. She’s draped in bin bags, looking like Disney’s Maleficent if Debbie Harry did her wardrobe. Perched atop her backcombed grey wig are a pair of Mickey Mouse ears. She throws herself against the room’s lit-up pillars, trusting audience members to get out of the way in time. As John 5’s revolting speed metal guitar solo kicks in, Abhora holds aloft a plush Donald Duck, strung up to a wooden crucifix like a marionette. She whirls it around as the crowd ducks to avoid being hit, before collapsing in a daring stage dive.

Perhaps the most hotly awaited performer of the evening is the winner of Dragula Season 2, Biqtch Puddin‘. She has a reputation for pushing the boundaries of weird, even in drag circles. Her first performance of the evening is centred around the unsolved homicide of child beauty queen JonBenét Ramsey, a theme clearly chosen for its tastelessness. However, it would probably be more provocative to an American audience – or at least one who weren’t mostly children themselves in 1996 when it played out in the US media.

Puddin’s second performance, however, is bang on the money. Dressed in a grubby boiler suit, her hair and makeup feel like a nod to Tim Curry’s Dr Frank-n-Furter. Her lipsync, an old school mix of Whitney Houston, Tiffany, and Berlin, tells the tale of a janitor’s forbidden love for her anthropomorphised cleaning supplies. It’s as surreal as it sounds, and comes to a head with Puddin’ smeared with an ominous brown fluid as she applies a plunger to her face. It’s stomach turning, and it’s exactly what the Dragula fans are here for.

Towards the end of the evening, Dracmorda and Swanthula take some time out of the proceedings for a quick Q&A with the crowd. They refuse to comment on the forthcoming third season, but are otherwise happy to talk about anything from the show’s origins to break-up advice. (“Be polite about it, OK, because you could make a good friend out of that person. Look at what you agree with them on, just make the best of it… otherwise, if they really are awful you could just run ‘em down with your car, that’s another option.”) Fans are clearly heartened to have the chance to put their questions straight to the Boulet Brothers; in a community where the only real mainstream representation of drag queens are Ru Paul’s VH1 vetted glamazons, Dragula represents a punk spirit at the heart of the art form. It’s a breath of fresh air, and a call to arms for would be performers. The brothers have time for one more question:

“Aside from filth, horror and glamour, what’s at the heart of a true monster?” muses Swanthula, before her brother interrupts – “Tenacity, tenacity, tenacity!” Dracmorda cries. “If you’re going to become the ‘World’s Drag Supermonster’, it is going to be difficult! It is not Ru Paul’s Drag Race-to-stardom! It is gonna kick your ass, you’re gonna have to perform in crazy places, but you know what? The fans are gonna be passionate, they’re gonna love you, and you’re gonna do fucking amazing.”

It’s on that note that the Boulet Brothers clear the stage for the night’s closing performance, and prepare for a meet and greet. There are smiles all round and the room is abuzz with speculation for the show’s next season. The brothers hint that some UK talent might make an appearance, but refuse to give any more away – it seems British fans will have to wait for it to air to see if they can spot any familiar faces…

For more on Boulet Brothers’ Dragula, visit www.bouletbrothersdragula.com

For more from Eat Sleep Drag Repeat, including further event listings and online ticket sales, visit www.esdrevents.co.uk

For more on The Nightingale Club, including venue details and further event listings, visit www.nightingaleclub.co.uk

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NOT NORMAL – NOT OK is a campaign to encourage safety and respect within live music venues, and to combat the culture of sexual assault and aggression – from dance floor to dressing room.

To sign up to NOT NORMAL – NOT OK, click here. To know more about the NOT NORMAL – NOT OK sticker campaign, click here.

September 2, 2018September 2, 2018

BREVIEW: BenDeLaCrème’s Inferno A-Go-Go! @ O2 Academy Birmingham 26.08.18

Words by Lydia Fitzer / Pics by Eleanor Sutcliffe

It’s Sunday night and I’m feeling fierce. I’m wearing my finest studs and tassels. I’m ready to strut into the O2 Academy with twinkly eyes and lacy thighs to communicate with a higher being: The Goddess of Drag. Tonight she will be channelled by Magical Queens with wit as sharp as their nails.

The first Magical Queen to the stage is no less glorious for being less famous. Her name is Meth. She emerges in a charcoal gown which glimmers like glass. Her purple hair is opulent. Her makeup is overstated and ferocious – yellows, purples, black and harsh white. Her face screams “Don’t f*ck with me”, but her personality is so endearing that you fall in love. She is the best friend you wish you had. Or perhaps the most loveable evil step mother of all time, as demonstrated by her opening Disney-themed lip sync. Her set has a real personal touch. You want to get to know her better – you want to follow her career.

Meth performs to grandiose tracks in an almost self-depreciating comical style, using slapstick to poke fun at the song and at herself. It’s really hilarious. Despite that, it’s clear that her performance is highly skilled. She jokes that her fans know she loves “standing and doing FA” lip syncing to a ballad, but there is nothing lazy about this queen. She bounds across the stage like a sexy kangaroo, if such a thing were possible.

For her final number, a lip sync of Meatloaf’s ‘Bat Out of Hell’, Meth asks the audience to imagine lots of fire and special effects (although she really doesn’t need to – she is pure fire). She steps forth in white tights, shrouded in a black shimmery cape. She is already the most gorgeous bat I’ve ever seen. When the first chorus hits, she spreads her arms and opens her cape into – you guessed it – a giant pair of bat wings. It was a glorious moment. She brings truly world-class lip sync and comic delivery, plus the gnarliest air guitar in history. I am convinced by this performance that Meth is correct – Meatloaf is, in fact, “a lazy f*cking drag queen”.

Meth’s set is all too short, although it is a delicious appetiser for BenDeLaCrème. I seriously appreciate how Meth tailors her performance to complement DeLa’s theme. It sets the audience up perfectly for a premature tour of the less-desirable afterlife.

“I hate to burst your Beelzebubble, but we’ll be talking about 14th Century Italian Literature.”

Yep, you heard her correctly. DeLa is basing Inferno A-Go-Go on Dante’s Inferno. It’s the first part of The Divine Comedy, during which Dante travels through the Nine Circles of Hell and ultimately meets the Devil himself. Don’t worry – if you see this tour, you’re not expected to be familiar with Dante’s Inferno. DeLa asks, “Who has actually read Dante’s Inferno?” In response to scattered cheers, she says, “Ah, so here we have the nerds… and the liars!” Not to worry, though. DeLa has “thoroughly skimmed the CliffsNotes”, and is ready to guide us through the experience admirably.

She writhes onto stage, doubled over in a hooded black cloak. You hear her introduce the agonies of hell in a deep, sinister voice… and with perfect comic timing, break into a coughing fit. She throws off her cloak to reveal a tiny red tasselled number, complete with Devil ears.

Before she leads us into the world below, however, she does address the elephant in the room. Most RuPaul fans will be aware of BenDeLaCrème only through RuPaul’s Drag Race and All Stars. Season 6 of Drag Race saw DeLa crowned as Miss Congeniality, and Season 3 of All Stars brought that dramatic self-elimination after she was on track to win. DeLa is well aware that a few of the audience are only here because of these shows. She confronts this by giving precisely six seconds of All Stars fan service, for anyone in the audience who’s just dying to hear Maria von Trapp sing RuPaul’s ‘Call Me Mother’. Then no more. This is DeLa’s show, and you will get to know her as the artist she truly is.

DeLa claims that her passion is “taking something smart and making it just a little bit stupid.” Honestly, while her interpretation of Dante’s Inferno is a lot more accessible to a modern audience, I think that what she’s really done is add her own type of smart. The jokes are current, sharp, and sometimes just on the right side of being a bad pun. For me she’s her own brand of comic genius.

We enter Hell to the most delightful parody of Miley Cyrus’s ‘Party in the USA’; ‘Party in the HEL’. As DeLa points out, there is a clear link between human suffering and Miley Cyrus’s music. She sings rather than lip syncs, bouncing between teen pop bubbles and bloodcurdling screams of horror. It’s immaculate and seemingly effortless. I definitely prefer it to the original.

There is a large screen on stage used to set the scene of Hell. While DeLa sneaks away to change, a short video plays which introduces Hell in holiday cruise-ship style. It flows seamlessly into the rest of the show. DeLa re-emerges in a kitschy pink and yellow ensemble to rapturous admiration.

I won’t describe every single detail of the rest of the show, because I don’t want to spoil it for you. You have to go see it for yourself. I will share some pearls of wisdom from the Second Circle of Hell, though. Did you know that if you’re a pervert who watches Internet porn, you’ll be doomed to spend eternity in the form of the rags you use to wipe up your “sinful seed”? Also, DeLa found herself questioning why there seemed to be no women in the lustful area of Hell. According to a travel brochure, “Women who enjoy sex are in Hell, but it’s just our regular living world.”

Continuing down through Hell, I notice that DeLa’s comedy is incredibly political. We’re given an amazing satire of America’s gun crisis by a centaur. He happens to be a Hellian patriot in a ‘Make Hell Great Again’ cap. He punishes black people who once smoked a joint on the same level as white people who drove a bus full of orphaned nuns into a lake. When DeLa questions his obvious racism, she takes an arrow to the butt. The centaur isn’t sorry, though – apparently, he’s proud of his right to bear arms. Sound familiar?

It’s funny, though. All of the social satire is incredibly funny… Until we meet the harpy and her trees. The trees are a sudden, profound reminder that in the real world these issues have serious consequences. The trees are the prison of the souls who committed suicide, and, as the harpy says, “Never did nothing to nobody […] Society failed them”. DeLa wonders why those souls are doomed to Hell at all. She asks, “Who is deciding this stuff? Is it demons or… the Devil or… God or… someone else?” She speaks in a whisper, and the silence is deafening.

We go straight from here to the most fabulous part of Hell, the gay beach (I love the accuracy of DeLa’s interpretations. In the original Inferno, the sodomites inhabited a desert of burning sand). It’s an almost immediate antidote to the sadness of a few moments ago. The comedy is pumped to the max, and the vibe is infectious. DeLa asks, “Is that Nancy Reagan?” “Yeah,” says our ultra-camp new friend. “She isn’t gay but this is still her Hell.”

DeLa takes us through the Eighth Circle of Hell using ‘Disco Inferno’, complete with tight rap and the cheesiest of dance moves. We tour all ten ditches to a perfect musical performance. The comedy is excellent, and every movement is exactly in sync with the soundtrack.

Finally we reach the Ninth Circle of Hell, and a suspiciously Wizard Of Oz-esque Satan greets us on the big screen. DeLa decides to look behind the curtain, and after a hilarious back and forth during which she finds no-one, the Devil cries, “It’s you!” she replies, “Well that’s stupid. […] Why would I put myself through Hell? […] Why would I have decided that all those people are bad?” We’re treated to the corniest closing song in all the worlds and afterlives; ‘We all make the Hell that we burn in’. BenDeLaCrème leaves the stage to an earthquake of applause.

BenDeLaCrème’s Inferno A-Go-Go! is great. It is really great. It is multi-coloured. DeLa gave me DIY greenscreen to ventriloquism (I will remember meeting Indulgence Gluttington to my dying day). She and two audience members created the River Styx using pure fabric and elbow grease. She almost moved me to tears with an arrow sticking out of her butt. I leave the O2 Academy feeling strong, as though I’m breathing new air. She pulled the sulphur from my lungs.

For more on BenDeLaCrème, visit www.bendelacreme.com

For more on Meth, visit www.instagram.com/methedragqueen

For more from the MJR Group, including further event listings and online ticket sales, visit www.themjrgroup.com

For more on the O2 Academy Birmingham, including venue details and further event listings, visit www.academymusicgroup.com/o2academybirmingham

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