House-Cat Havoc versus Steel Wool - NSW Poetry Slam Challenge Bout - Knot Gallery - 08/07/05

Ethan Switch - Monday, July 11, 2005 - Print Version

Atrophe's party or the Poetry Slam? With pigeon shit covering every spot of open faced cement in the wings of the Knot Gallery, there was no contest. The Inaugural State Poetry Slam by the Word Wrestling Federation. There was also no place to stand without inhaling a rich strike of urine.

A battle of prime rhyme from the New South Wales line. Two teams against each other in an ages old classic battle of poetic licence. To the victor, the glory to represent against the sorry cases in Victoria later in August. Flowers more for the team short on score.

The ticketing area cries out for organisation. With a cigarette in his mouth, and a bottle of beer dangling from the fingers in the left hand, the man doling out the tickets is clearly out of his depth. Signing away on everybody's hand, the raffle stubs from the door decide who will be the judging panel. Random selection, off the top layer of the bowl.

Two teams stand on the line to cast their rhymes, House-Cat Havoc and Steel Wool.

Wearing vests and attitude, House-Cat Havoc with members Citizen Tom, Sarah Mae, MC Zoe Zee and Bravo Child. Each of these Cats looking prime and ready for a fighting time. Literally, physically and oh so definitely.

On the other side of the condemned building playing host to the night's festivities, Jo Jun Kin Seto, Ella Colley, Sarah May Byrne and Helen Gibson of Steel Wool. Young guns, 15 years on average.

With the start time falling further and further into an abyss claiming more half hours by the dozen, the room fills to a huddling buzz. No seats alongside cushions. Standing room only inside a fire hazard. Smoking of cigarettes cranks out like a mother, the air thickens with the wait.

Referee Tug "The Verbinator" Dumbly makes sure no one is asleep from the wafting haze of smoke. Guest poet Miles Merrill rhymes a little, speaks a little and is off before welcoming in the night, finally here at last. Differentiating the voices and characters in Merrill's moment is hard, the voice relaxes and folds to make the delineation a sheer mystery.

Ref Dumbly pads every other dead silence with the invocation of "metaphorically," as if needed for reasons of clarity. Or to a punch line that never really is. Combatants also get nicknames thanks to the referee.

Liv Tyler is keeping score up at the front of the area. Pouty red lips, deep black hair and eyes that would defend the life of a scrawny hobbit. She is not really Liv Tyler.

Calling the coin toss, Steel Wool elect to have their opposition take the stage first.

Up with a duo, House-Cat Havoc deliver a conversation on eating. Back and forth, the rhythm falters in places, the wander making light of the thought. Steel Wool hit back with an ensemble ditty on the restrictions of being merely fifteen. Running the nail close down the wire, a point separates the two teams. Steel Wool take out the first round.

Scores are then thrown into the air as the selected audience judges - drawn from the raffles at the door - are encouraged to render their decisions with decimal points.

Round two sees House-Cat Havoc deliver an energetic two piece entitled along the lines of Birth of a Nation. The delivery is something cascading, percussive and totally enthralling. Against this, Steel Wool fumble a little as their three piece deliver a return serve and hand the second round to the House-Cats.

Adding a thumping bass line to their third round attack, House-Cat Havoc trip the line between rap and a straight up poetry slam. The background poets are holding on to dead or off mikes. Doesn't really matter, they lose out on the round to a sombre ode and unexpected goodbye from Steel Wool.

Before the start of the final round, House-Cat Havoc win the coin toss and shove the late challengers into the fire. Steel Wool hold their ground valiantly through as they work the audience into their trio piece. Breaking out a spectacular move, House-Cat Havoc launch from various spots in the audience, taking it right into the faces. A bold move. A strong move.

A move that inches House-Cat Havoc past the girls of Steel Wool as they take out the New South Wales win on just a couple of points. A dog lick's a man's hand, flowers for the gladiators, thanks, and a spilling of beer bottles ends the proceedings.

With the main entertainment over, the fire hazard makes itself known. Bodies fill empty spaces with no traces or bases for the foot to grab a hold. As Holly Jazz set their gear up on stage, others choose to leave, already late into the night.