The Review - New Year's Eve at Sugar
Reflecting on what to write on the recent Jesse Roper's New Year's Eve Celebration at Sugar NightClub in Victoria, it occurred to me my last two posts for West Coast Live have basically been narratives about my going to a show, imbibing too liberally and making poor choices. To clarify, these "poor choices" fall within the realm of 32-year-old-introvert, and so generally entail grainy bathroom selfies and sloppily making out with my husband like teenagers in the middle of the dance floor. Not bad enough to force one into hiding for a few months, but enough to make one think, when, exactly, did I get so old?
Certainly this thought was front and centre in my mind when we got home and I complained to my husband about the painful ringing in my ears.
That said, if your only complaints about a show are that you had too good a time, and that your ears won't stop pounding, then odds are the night was a success.
This is exactly how I felt about Jesse Roper's New Year's Eve Celebration. I can't recall the last time I went to an actual venue for a New Year's Eve party, if ever, which added to the novelty-factor of the night. I had no idea what to expect, and while I fretted over my decision not to wear sequins (not that I own any, but it always seems to me New Year's Eve is always marked by sequins and glitter), I was impressed by the blend of people lined up at the door. From sequinned twenty-somethings (see!) to moustachioed biker-types, it was extraordinary to see such a range of people brought together by the promise of good music.
We made it in the doors shortly before local boys Band of Rascals took the stage and captivated the crowd with a sublime set of body-throbbing rock and swinging, sweaty strands, with the girl ahead of me squealing to her friends, "He's so cute! Ohmigod, he's so cute!" If the opening act can be considered foreplay for the main event, then these fellas had nailed it.
DJ Bryan Boitano kept the crowd moving during the break with a slick sequence of modern rock remixes, while we stopped off at the loo and replenished our drinks (props to Sugar NightClub for a well-orchestrated event, with minimal waits for the bathroom and bar!).
By the time Jesse Roper emerged on-stage, he had transformed from the baja hoodie and man-bun I'd spotted him in earlier into a veritable rock god, shirtless and glistening, adorned in a regally feathered top hat - it's no wonder Mr. Roper has earned himself local celebrity status. It's precisely his homegrown vibe, however, that makes Jesse Roper such a memorable character. Case in point: the last time I saw him perform was at the Metchosin farmer's market this past July.
It's fair to say that by this point in the evening I was sufficiently befuggered (see how I chose the cutest word possible to make it seem less inelegant, when in actuality my eyeliner had begun to smear and I had somebody's highball sloshed across my crotch). What this means is I danced so hard my legs hurt the next morning like it had been leg-day-Thursday.
At midnight the band counted down from ten and serenaded the sweaty mass with a riotous version of Auld Lange Syne before segueing back into the well-known tunes of Red Bird and Son of John.
The music was still thrashing by 1:30, a.m., when we realized the buses would soon be wrapping up their complimentary New Year's Eve runs (by the way, thank you City of Victoria!). We had gathered our coats and begun stumbling down the stairs when we heard the first bars of Yukon Girl start up. Despite clearly clinging to the railing for balance, the mister obliged me in one last revel before we left for home for real.
I'd had my doubts about going out for New Year's Eve - it's over-rated, over-priced, over-promoted. As we spent Friday camped out on the sofa binging on Orange is the New Black, however, and nursing our hangovers with Chinese take-out and Happy Planet smoothies we both agreed: totally fun, and totally worth it.