Photo: wenn.com
Vice have made an international name for themselves for revelling in stylish depravity, so their 10th birthday bash was bound to come with certain expectations.
A line-up featuring Crystal Castles, Andrew W.K. and a DJ set from Mark Ronson only served to intensify that anticipation - and the night did not disappoint.
In the main room, things really kicked off with the arrival of Andrew W.K. Ever the showman, W.K. worked the crowd in to a frenzy with his brand of manic punk rock. Party Hard indeed.
On the other side of the venue alt-rapper Thunderbird Gerard entertained those with less interest in the frantic punky offerings of the main room.
The middle room, where Mark Ronson was DJing, was complete chaos, becoming a throughway between the two larger rooms, the toilets and the smoking area. In all honesty, despite the DJ talent on display it was uncomfortably rammed all night. That said, it was the most stylishly lively room all night, drawing on a vast range of genres and satisfying those with a need to dance to something less aggressive (and the savvy among us know there's almost always a pocket of space to be found by the DJ booth).
But despite having the almost legendary Mark Ronson in attendance, Crystal Castles were the night's undeniable stars.
Alice Glass was a near-terrifying presence from the moment she took the stage, the back-lit stage giving her the appearance of a truly deranged individual.
Performing a large part of set propped up by the front row of the audience, Glass seemed the personification of Crystal Castle's electro-punk, surveying a crowd battered into submission by the music and enthralled by the performer.
Old favourites like 'Alice Practice' get an outing, but for the most part it's the newer material that the audience lap up.
Crystal Castles are an act that remind us why there's no room for punk anymore. Their music is full of the convulsive energy that defined punk, and their live shows are full of the wide-eyed confrontation that audiences hunger for.
What with it being Vice's 10th Birthday, we all should've known what was ahead really. This wasn't a gig, it was a party. It was put together for people to get pissed and throw themselves about in the most manic way possible. And it accomplished that entirely.
But with a line-up so impressive, you can't help but feel like a modicum of organisation might've been appreciated.
No one, for the most part, had a clue what was going on.
Some stage times posted more securely than a bit of paper bluetacked to a piller wouldn't have gone amiss, or some soundmen who know what was happening more than five minutes in the future ("we just work here mate, I think Crystal Castle's are playing later, or now maybe").
Utter madness of the type only Vice can produce, in the best possible way.
