It's impossible for me to think of the summer of 2005 without thinking of Greasy Demon Heat, a month-long performance-art piece that included a real boxing match and a gory musical. The year 2006 brought news that the artists behind GDH were being evicted from their Pioneer Square housing for being (allegedly) too raucous, which did not bode well for the year ahead.
But it's spring, and symbolism is thick in the air. Consider: (1) It's the night before Easter. (2) The boys are in their brand-new, gorgeous loft, rented to them by "a landlord who was really excited to have artists in the building." (3) The loft space is being christened with an all Wu-Tang Clan dance party. (4) The corner of the room features a nine-foot-tall blow-up chicken, dressed in a cowboy hat and sheriff's badge.
Except for that chicken thing, which makes no sense at all, it's like the universe is pointing to right now. Over 100 people are dancing to the Wu, slamming into one another and screaming lyrics, carefree as any crowd I've seen since the glory days before ODB passed. Fundraising for future artistic pursuits, the hosts man a cash bar with Busch on sale for "two bells" and mixed drinks (or overly generous shots) for "three bells," and suddenly things feel back on track. There can be such a thing as an encouraging, art-friendly landlord, and Seattle's most dangerous artists can rise from their own ashes like a... like a... well, not a phoenix, exactly, but maybe a chicken dressed up like a cowboy.
Want The Stranger to demonstrate hot new dance moves the "Pregnant Lady" and the "Get the Fuck Off My Back" at your house party? E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to firstname.lastname@example.org.