In 2013 Cable was forced to close following two years of ongoing legal battles with Network Rail.
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Shane Watcha - Zombies
Clint Lee - Zoo Project
Mr Pixeldot - Unit 7
Ms C DJ - Faun, Shush, Golden Delicious
Filthy, soulful, bouncy, dirty funky house
DJ Darlo - Bikini Wax
Rock 'n' roll, northern soul, atlantic soul, jive, swing, rythymn and blues, ska, reggae, latin, rockabilly, funk, hip hop, electro to disco and vintage party vibes
Ben Jurassik - SupaTronix
With a host of live performances from Masked revellers, fire, DJs, puppets, apocalyptic fortune-tellers, soothsayers, human lab rats, Sky Pirates, victorian servants, strange steam powered contraptions, and much more in a night of steampunk hedonism and live interactive performance.
This New Year's Eve, SEDUCTIVE ALCHEMY presents a night of dancing, play, performance and costume set in a dark Victorian apocalyptic universe.
Masked revellers, fire, DJs, puppets, apocalyptic fortune-tellers, soothsayers, human lab rats, Sky Pirates, victorian servants, strange steam powered contraptions, and much more in a night of steampunk hedonism and live interactive performance.
Seductive Alchemy’s Happy Noir Eve is a gathering of dark souls on a journey to the end of the earth, as we know it, and as the name suggests the theme fro this event is “NOIR”.
Imagine an alternate future: December 31, 2012.
The Royal Empire stretches to Mars. Silver Zeppelins glide gracefully across the sky like a bird of prey. Brass computers work side-by-side with horse-drawn carts and steam engines, goggles are de rigueur, and people adorn clothes with shiny brass contraptions.
The rich keep clockwork servants and live in a decadent futuristic dream, while crazed scientists experiment on street children and subversive punks scavenge for machine parts on factory scrap heaps.
Overhead, the Queen's Own Cosmonauts battle with bloodthirsty Sky Pirates and beings not of this world. Below the smog-line, the factories work overtime and whispers of unrest grow louder.
Join us at the peak of the Royal Stellar Empire, and celebrate the dawn of a New Century of Imperial Progress!
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE:
Queen Victoria is eighty-one; and not long for this world. Her Majesty's Royal Empire stretches to Mars, with first contact now established with the terrifying Venusians. Silver zeppelins glide gracefully across the sky like birds of prey. Brass computers work side-by-side with horse-drawn carts and steam engines, goggles are de rigueur and people augment themselves with shiny brass contraptions.
The backbone of the Diamond Age sits below London’s smog filled streets waiting for a sign –
“Salvation is Coming” placards hang from the bare brick walls like an alchemists prescription. Backstreet soothsayers predict it is coming too - they say patience is a virtue; that the hardship of steam, sweat and tears will soon come to an end; but below the smog-line, there is no time to dream.
This New Year’s Eve is different. The sky is full of silver zeppelins, hovering like carriages waiting to deliver belated Christmas presents. Are the Queen’s Own Cosmonauts back, as promised two years ago? The intergalactic wars are over, the Royal Empire is secure, and the masters are snug in bed.
However, here in London, life goes on as usual - factories run day and night, devouring sack after sack of coal, to produce the machine parts the Stellar Empire so dearly needs. Messrs. Verne and Wells are still contributing valuable works of non-fiction with their latest offerings -"The Village in the Treetops" and "The First Men in the Moon". Clockwork citizens celebrate in the only way they can – exchanging scraps of machinery scavenged from the houses of their masters, who live aboveground. Social graces are limited to the obligatory turn of the key – life must go on! As New Year's Eve approaches, families gather in their homes and streets to celebrate the turning of an age
and in the cellars underneath Lord and Lady Frobisher Pilbeam's mansion, work is already underway to host the finest New Year's Party that grand house has ever seen. The ancient lord, Randolph Frobisher Pilbeam, has been in an iron lung for some years, waited on by his team of butlers, maids, servants, strange machines and his unsettling personal physician, Doktor Von Science.
Thus it has fallen to Lady Frobisher Pilbeam, nearly at her wits end, to organise the servants, the entertainers, the festivities.
Join us, then, in the middle of things, at the finest party that Victorian London has ever seen. Bring your most elaborate gowns, your top hats and tails, your finest masks and accessories. Bring a role. Bring a character. Just be yourself - or for this one night, be someone else.
Bring your dancing shoes and bring your wildest dreams.
Let Seductive Alchemy transmute you
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