Misty Lux

Misty Lux Review. Mondo Marveloso Monday 10^th June 2008

Misty Lux is a fire breathing, broken glass walking tattooed burlesque dancer. I bumped into her at Tiger Lounge, Manchester in 2008 as part of their wonderful Mondo Marveloso night, now sadly defunct. She went by the former name Cherry Burlesque as part of the Fanny Divine troop. Here is a review I wrote for her after seeing her show. I understand she now lives in New York, and has a taxidermy business called Morbid Curiosities. Indeed.

Some people are imbued with animal magnetism. They penetrate your consciousness somehow. I don’t know why, or how. Why it is, when certain people enter the room, every corpuscle of your racing blood is immediately orientated towards them like filings on a vivid Kirlan masterpiece. They occupy the centre of the room, wherever they choose to go, and you orbit them like an obedient satellite, looking hopelessly on as your heart is wilfully sucked into the inevitable vortex of attraction. So it was with Misty Lux. Of course, at the time I did not know of her great talents… I just knew her as ‘that pretty chick with the red hair’. So very pretty. The most radiant celestial being in my narrowing vision that night. I was heading for a cataclysmic implosion.

Imagine my surreal surprise when, some time on in that deliciously decadent night, my head swimming with oaken brandy, the musical mastery of Corrigan bubbling seahorses of absinthe into a corroding ceegar mind, a friend whispered “Its that red haired bird you like.. she’s the burlesque act”. BOOM. At the edge of the universe.. the laws of creation change. The very matter which constitutes us is remoulded and morphed into spasmodic contortions of liquid swirling passion. The fantastic becomes possible. How can a 5 foot 2 inch woman command such an orchestra of emotion? “And now laydees and Gentlemen… I give you Misty Lux”…

It is a conundrum of life that a man wants both an angel and a whore in the same woman. And yet he is never satisfied with either. Misty Lux is the antedote to this confounding problem. She deftly tiptoes along the knife edge between these two archetypes. Incredibly, she invokes courtly Love and Lust in one emotion... balls and brain unite in conflagration! She is a Force of Nature with the elemental power to transcend her own physical body. Where the King Cnut failed to control the oceans, the goddess in her succeeded. She can turn an ocean of pheromones wincing back on itself, or create a bawdy Tsunami of passion. She is the wicked shaman- tigress of primal dreams. With the wink of an eye, and a shoulder shrug, she will leave you desolate… a crying manchild on the Alter of the Earth, begging for her eyes to return to you. And in the same despondent moment she is there again… red velvet and lace with a smile you know is all for you, this time.

And in the height of it all… CORNISH PASTIES! What insane malevolence possessed the Gremlins to place them in my line of sight? Couldn’t they see I was floundering under Her spell? Suddenly a pack of hungry silhouette wolf men were there feasting… not only on this delicatessen of flesh, but on every available savoury morsel, gorging and gormandising in an orgy of self satisfaction… HEATHANS. BEASTS!  She has aroused the most base of desires in her followers. I writhe to free my mind.. its deliberate! Pasty Persecution! Then… as the climax is reached, the waves part and I see her rising again through the awe-struck crowd, but now with? FIRE! I fear for her delicate flesh, her mortal pain, the obscenity and perversion in me that led to this point. I falter in my faith. But she is noble and kind, and wants to teach me about the Mystery. She teaches me as the pale snow of winter sublimates into radiant flames of Solstice, so her pale flesh becomes one with Fire. And when it all ends in a groaning shudder of satisfaction… it is not over, for She is renewed. 

North Utsire