Opinion
2 min

Deep Dish Toronto

Cazwell & Mike’s Hard Thursday

Cazwell Credit: Rolyn Chambers

Bump! Bump! It could be the chorus of a 1970s disco hit. It could be the demands of an overeager party-favour lover. Or it could be Cazwell’s Toronto comeback performance, which was bumped back twice. Last time I saw him, he was promoting his new single “Ice Cream Truck” at Fly nightclub when it was packed and I was surrounded by demanding, overeager party-favour lovers who thought they were listening to a remix of a 1970s disco hit. Tonight? Not so much. Not sure what’s happened since then. He’s put out a couple new tracks, including “Rice and Beans” (featuring a video with hot guys so loose they’d probably fart lube) and my new fave, “Guess What?” Maybe it was the fact that his show was bumped twice, or maybe we just had too much going on that fateful long-weekend Sunday, what with Tracy Young’s Gold Party at Fly and Gairy Brown’s Eden at The Hoxton. But whatever it is, tonight’s turnout at MoJo Lounge is much smaller than I think he’d hoped for. But the show must go on (especially if he’s to get his coin), and Sofonda warms up the intimate crowd with a Lichtenstein-inspired pussy-popping pop-art performance piece. Cazwell takes over and owns the stage with a repertoire of expertly executed ditties. Most are about either eating or sex. I’ve always wondered why. “I think he’s stoned,” blurts my stoner, iPhone-recording bestie. Now I think I know why.

Click! Click! It could be the sound of cameras taking photos. It could be the sound of guns preparing to fire. Or it could be the sound of drag queens prancing up the stairs to the Crews & Tangos stage. This time, the queens who belong to these clicking heels are Ivory Towers and Heroine Marks. Last time I saw them here they were introducing drag to a few drunken straight chicks snapping pics who were convinced they had real tits. I kind of wished I owned a gun. Click. Done. Not able to attend any A-list TIFF party this year, I’m delighted (and drunk) that free mini bottles of sparkling Henkell Rosé are being given out in honour of the film festival. Sip. Sip. Ah mah gawd, maybe the stars are here, too? Is that George Clooney and Brad Pitt doing karaoke in the back bar? No, it’s just promoters Monty T and Joey Viola getting tipsy. Is that Chiwetel Ejiofor in the second-floor DJ booth? No, it’s just Craig Dominic spinning some booty beats. Is that Daniel Radcliffe in drag on the patio? No, it’s just Daytona Bitch creating drama. Oh well. Another bottle of Henkell and we’ll all think we’re movie stars. No photos, please.