Cabaret

What is it? A type of entertainment combining song, dance and theatre, normally staged in a nightclub environment. The term is a French word for café, which derives from the Middle Dutch cabret, through the Old North French camberette, and from the Late Latin camera. The world basically means ‘small room’. The first cabaret was opened in Montmartre, Paris, in 1881. German cabaret appeared at the turn of the century, and found its heyday in the ’20s and ’30s. Feature continues

The experience The idea of cabaret being cool takes a bit of getting used to. Until recently, I’d presumed it to be the live entertainment equivalent of ‘The Generation Game’ or ‘The Birdie Song’, a half-forgotten end-of-the-pier affair involving forced grins, musty moustaches and spangly assistants. That or lap-dancing with better PR. But no: according to Simone Baird, TO’s alternative nightlife guru, cabaret is one of the fastest growing scenes around, with many of the city’s hottest tickets offering entry to a red-and-black retro wonderland where ‘sexy’ and ‘fun’ are the boxes to tick.

In less time than it takes to lace a corset, Simone had set me up with a broad tasting menu of what the scene has to offer. First up was a Friday night in Bethnal Green to see current cabaret darlings the Puppini Sisters, whose faux-’40s close harmonising has already got their card marked for crossover success. ‘You’re lucky to be seeing them in such an intimate venue,’ Simone assured me. ‘It’s been sold out for ages.’ Hidden in a converted industrial building down an alley off Cambridge Heath Road, Bistrotheque was disarmingly classy inside, with Victorian-style etched glass and ornamental carvings in the bar and a cosy but classy performance space. The Sisters put on a storming act, cooing their way through standards trad and modern and getting the audience eating out of their slinkily-gloved hands. Personally I like my entertainment with a little more bite, but the pastiche was spot on and the girls’ perky, nudge-nudge charm a perfect fit for the relaxed, intimate space.

From there it was a short stumble to the Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club, off Green Road. I’d heard this was the current place to be, a feeling most of the crowd seemed to share. They’d certainly made the effort: chaps in hats and girls in pearls are the order of the day, with waistcoasts and corsets by the cupboardfull. As someone who’s never been told off for over-dressing, I felt a bit shabby in my T-shirt and jeans, but it was no big deal because the mood was so friendly, thanks perhaps to the cheap bar, the singalong feel of the upbeat playlist – lots of vintage rock ’n’ roll, New Romantic tunes and recent guitar rock – and the vaguely mischievous air of kids let loose in their grandparents’ wardrobes and jewellery boxes. (The bouncer was still a bit of a prick – but a prick in a tweedy jacket…)

The other two events on my cabaret calendar were closer to the compère-introduces-varied-bill-of-fare template I’d imagined, and both were somewhat mixed bags. The Sunday Night Cabaret Spectacular at Too2Much in the heart of Paul Raymond-land was certainly well suited to the plush, tiered performance-bar surroundings, and made for a suitably laidback end to the weekend. But the acts themselves didn’t make a great impression: sarky stand-up Mary Bourke did a grand job and Aussie co-host Amanda Symmons had a nicely barbed sick-of-London number, but otherwise the singers were a bit ordinary; meanwhile burlesque – cabaret’s naughty sister – was represented by a frankly baffling drag king striptease that ended with flaming nipple-tassles.

'Please, God, don't let her sit on my lap'

Last was the regular Wednesday night Cabaret Salon at the Volupté Lounge off Fetter Lane, perhaps the swankiest of the venues. (‘Is that what you’re wearing?’ Simone sighed when she clocked that day’s T-shirt-and-jeans ensemble.) Bypassing the ground-floor cocktail bar, the plush downstairs performance space turned out to be geared more towards dining than drinking, with a young professional-looking party and a few older couples. The opening act – an unengaging guitar-strummer who seemed to love himself enough for the whole room – went on far too long, but others worked the room well, including the wittily deadpan Miss Tallulah Mockingbird, whose way with feathers gave me faith in burlesque. Singer Jessie Pie meanwhile nailed precisely the right balance of sexy and fun with a distinctly disciplinarian set that ended up feeling like a dirty joke shared with the audience. I don’t know if it’s art, but it sure ain’t ‘The Generation Game’.

What to say
‘The elegance of the Puppini Sisters obviously references the 1940s, but also harks back to Yvette Guilbert or Jane Avril in their performances at the Moulin Rouge in the late nineteenth century.’

What not to say
'Is she going to take her kit off or what?'

Where to start
Key cabaret venue Volupte (9 Norwich St, EC4) hosts midweek Cabaret Salon on Wednesdays, ’20s-themed Roar of the Flappers on Fridays, and Afternoon Tease and Parade on Saturdays. Duckie at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern (372 Kennington Lane, SE11) is the legendary night hosted by Steve Strange and Amy Lamé.