EDGE

21/04/12: Saturday nights at The Edge have been ramping up the sexy levels ever since 2012 arrived to remind us the nineties really were a long, long time ago, and that the world might end this year.

But with the delicious DJ Zach Burns, feisty hostess Felicia Van Cartier, a plethora of buff ting bar and gogo boys and some seriously up-for-it punters, this is where we want to be when Armageddon strikes; a drink in one hand and the crotch of a red knicker-clad muscleboy in the other.

Your reviewer wasn’t feeling her usual glamorous self; run-down from an endless grind of international flights, champagne-fuelled parties and a sore throat that just screamed ‘that’s more than enough cock for you, missus’. But from the very moment I lumbered in, the hands-in-the-air party vibe, coupled with copious amounts of medicinal whiskey, were truly better mood enhancers than anything I ever got off the strange little Chinese hoodie who lived on the estate next to my gaff.

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Tonight, the music was noticeably a few shades deeper than what Edge Towers usually pumps out, thanks to DJ Ariel who brought a dollop of clubbage cool to proceedings, but still threw in some more Soho-friendly sounds to satisfy the regular reprobates of the multi-floored party palace.

I could have booked myself a booth or VIP table for free upstairs to escape the raucous revelry and rest my weary bones, but you know what they say, the best way to lift your spirits is to get on the dance floor and ride a scantily clad gogo boy ‘til dawn. Shhhh… don’t tell the wife…

11 Soho Square, W1D 3QE
Words by Lee Dalloway
Photos by Mark Storey

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