This week’s Super Ego clubs column is full of signs and wonders for the coming weekend, but here’s a further quintet of banging joints to top you off just right, Your soundtrack is “Triscuits,” because that’s my theme song right now. (Oh, and just a reminder — that rained-out, positively drenched Hunky Jesus contest has been rescheduled for tonight, too!)
The massive Texan technician, now hailing from Berlin like everybody else pretty much, hits us with a stop on his short, sharp tour. Really good, often wiggy but groovy stuff.
Fri/19, 9:30pm-3am, $10-$15. Monarch, 101 Sixth St., SF. www.monarchsf.com
The knockout transgender club legend comes to our favorite kooky-artsy drag weekly Some Thing — it’s gonna be a mix of something wonderful and strange, methinks.
Two of our best DJ crews, No Way Back and Honey Soundsystem, continue their fruitful collaboration, and give kids some space to just dance to killer house and techno.
I’m throwing a little bit of underground in here, as the longtime German duo, which has gotten a lot more sophisticated lately, takes to the waterfront somewhere.
One listen to the masterpiece vinyl mix below by Jayvi Velasco from a previous Throwback party, which pumps up the old-school ’90s house jams, will let you know why I’ll be living on the dancefloor for this. Harlum Muziq label heroes David Harness and Chris Lum will preside. With Julius Papp, Galen, and — yes! — Jayvi Velasco. High kicks.
SUPER EGO “I’ve been listening a lot to Hulk Hogan’s new comedy album. I hear he has an acid jazz album coming out soon, too — can’t wait for that.” I’m being treated to some good ol’ deadpan Native American leg-pulling from DJ Bear Witness of A Tribe Called Red, performing at Thee Parkside on Fri/19.
Well, more accurately it’s First Nations leg-pulling, as the fascinating and super-fun ATCR DJs — Bear Witness, NDN, and Shub — are of indigenous Canadian descent, calling me from Ottawa, where their monthly party Electric Pow Wow has been slaying for almost five years now. The trio mixes electronic dance beats with contemporary aboriginal tribal drumming and singing, plus a healthy dose of aural and visual sampling both historical (early field recordings of powwow chants and 20th-century sound bites) and ironic (cringe-worthy Hollywood redskin whoops and awkward pop culture quotes ranging from John Wayne to Back to the Future III) to create a deliciously subversive club experience.
The result is what the three call “pow wow step” — a banging, trancey sound mostly rooted in the bass-heavy drops and meticulously constructed plateaus of dubstep, but transcending that too-trendy sound by virtue of the trio’s innumerable global dance music influences. And it’s finally giving a contemporary electronic voice to aboriginal groups from Ojibwe to Nippising.
Bear Witness points out that in Canada and much of the United States, indigenous people are now “urban aboriginals — we’re the people in the hoodies and baseball caps living downtown,” so a distinct, urban musical expression could only come naturally.
“We’re one of the fastest growing demographics, yet we’re still pretty invisible,” NDN added. “It’s a lot different from when our great-great grandparents came off the reservations looking for work. Our grandparents became integrated as much as they were allowed in 1950s and ’60s culture until some of them joined radical movements like Black Power. Then our parents grew up in this kind of unique urban environment full of little telltale signs that they were aborigines.
“And now we come along, raised on tribal identification, but also hip-hop and everything else you got growing up in the city. Including the fact that the whole world’s structured to be against you, from the moment you step out of the house in the morning to get a cup of coffee.
“So we’re representing, while also trying to move it all forward. We want to decolonize some of the references and stereotypes while having a lot of fun with it.”
For all the political subtext and critical theory red meat, ATCR’s emphasis is always on the party. “We’re three energetic DJs up there playing off each other in a totally spontaneous fashion, having a blast with the crowd,” says DJ Shub. Shub’s status as an insanely talented, vinyl-shredding winner of the Canadian DMC DJ championship makes him a star on his own.
When tripled with NDN and Bear, the quick-witted referents from Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan to Q-Tip fly — the group credits mashup culture, a breakdancing revival, and kooky Brit electro duo Radioclit among its inspirations. (And yes, when it comes to the sometimes awkward, culturally-appropriative legacy of tribal house, jungle, and New Age ambient, they love to flip it all back on itself, reclaiming it.)
A Tribe Called Red often draws hundreds to its touring powwow parties in the Great White North and the East Coast, sometimes featuring live drum circles and hoop dancers. Last year’s electrifying self-titled free-download album snagged them a pretigious Polaris prize nomination. The trio works with several organizations to promote aboriginal causes. New album Nation II Nation drops May 7, a cheeky collab with Das Racist, “Indian From All Directions,” just debuted on Pitchfork. And they’ve been buzzing for years. (I first became aware of them after a trip to Navajo Nation, when the morning radio pumped the spacey electro-tribal sounds of what my traveling companion instantly dubbed “tech-navajo.”) But this will be their first full-on West Coast tour.
No qualms about reception in unfamiliar territory, though: “There are aboriginal people everywhere, just like there are party people everywhere,” DJ Shub says. “Word gets out, and people will come for a good time.”
A Tribe Called Red Fri/19, 9pm, $10. Thee Parkside, 1600 17th St., SF. www.theeparkside.com, www.electricpowwow.com
TUBESTEAK CONNECTION NINTH ANNIVERSARY
There’s some kind of size queen joke about this seminal bathhouse disco party finally reaching the big nine, but damned if I know what it is. Let bearded clan king DJ Bus Station John lay it all out for you, as his intimate weekly Tenderloin bacchanal keeps alive the down and dirty spirit of gay San Francisco. Free mustache rides!
Thu/18, 10pm, $5. Aunt Charlie’s Lounge, 133 Turk, SF. www.auntcharlieslounge.com
SIMIAN MOBILE DISCO
Has it really been 10 years since club Mezzanine first mezzed up downtown? Celebrate in wild style with beloved big-room Brit electro duo SMD and a couple thousand others.
Gorgeously trance-like, guitar driven tunes from the global nomad reps of Tuareg rock.
Fri/19, doors 8pm, show 9pm, $55. The Chapel, 777 Valencia, SF. www.thechapelsf.com
SILENT SERVANT
Great, dark and dubby techno from a contemporary master will lay waste to one of the city’s most colorful dance floors at Honey Soundsystem. Who will survive? Anyone willing to plumb the secret depths of sound. And do some high kicks.
NIGHTLIFE Consider Midland. The well-scrubbed, cutting-edge dub-houser from Leeds, UK, has been kicking around for a few years in the virtual technosphere, releasing a handful of excellent tracks (including 2010 critical hit “Your Words Matter”), aligning himself with well-knowns like Ewan Pearson and Ramadanman, and appearing on perpetual “breaking out” lists — along with dozens of other young bucks with voracious musical tastes and groovy, uncategorizable sounds.
About a month ago, however, Midland suddenly blew up. He was everywhere: his beautifully bonkers February 15 sunrise set at Berlin’s Panorama Bar praised and shared to high heaven; links to his Facebook page, previous releases, and high-profile technophile website interviews pelting my feed with Midland love. An impressive list of European gigs was announced, and Midland was poised to be the next in a series of DJs, producers, and live acts to establish themselves globally as a sharp, and sharply managed, brand. Midland had arrived.
And then: “One of the artists we’re excited about signing is Midland, who’ll be touring the US this summer,” Andrew Kelsey, CEO and main booking agent of Liaison Artists (www.liaisonartists.com), dished to me out of the blue a week later, in the gorgeously Zen-anal Dogpatch office his company shares with OM Records. It was weird! But, in the case of Liaison’s unfailing grip on the techno zeitgeist, completely logical. Anyone who’s anyone, it seems, signs with Liaison. Whatever may lay at the root of Midland’s sudden uptick in exposure, his contract score means we’re about to hear a whole lot more from him, and for good reason.
Along with partner Mariesa Stevens — and scene-player staff members Hamilton Wright, Justin Offerman, Matt Hubert, Mary Croghan, Conor Dirks, and Jon Sax — Kelsey has built Liaison into the most respected techno talent agency in the US, with increasing expansion into the global scene. If you’ve been to a major party at Public Works, Monarch, Mighty, Mezzanine, 103 Harriet, or any of the other clubs hosting the latest explosion of dance music popularity, odds are Liaison booked the talent. A quick rundown of some of the names on its current roster: Andrew Weatherall, Ellen Alien, The Field, Maya Jane Coles, Maceo Plex, Crazy P., Justin Martin, Catz ‘N Dogz, Pillow Talk, Ben Pearce, Koze, Pachanga Boys, Joy Orbison, Miss Kittin, Solomun, Tale of Us …
In an age when the provenance of a DJ gig is starting to gain as much attention as where your organic, free-range, non-GMO heirloom turnips are sourced — and in which the first comment to greet a party announcement is usually “nice booking!” — it’s pretty perfect that the strings of the quality electronic music scene are being pulled in San Francisco. (Hey, we’ve got slow food, slow money, slow church, and slow fashion. We may as well head up slow techno.) As the ever-swelling cloud of international touring DJs and producers threatens to blot out the underground party spirit with brand-name fatigue, Liaison has become a de facto curator, guiding style-conscious connoisseurs and heedless hedonists alike through the fog to the dance floor. Liaison is recognized as the mark of quality.
“I don’t think it will ever be a matter of us overshadowing the artists we work with,” the soft-voiced Kelsey said with a smile at the suggestion. “The music always has to come first. The people on our roster have worked incredibly hard to establish a sound, a fan base, and a reputation for professionalism without sacrificing any of that underground edge that drew our attention in the first place. In other words, the party will be insane — and people will show up on time.” (Budding DJs, please take note.)
Kelsey’s own music bona fides help allay any fears of good music being cynically corporatized. He moved here in 1998 to chase his dreams of working in the vibrant scene, and jumped at the chance to join the OM label, recruiting talent when it dominated dance music in the early ’00s. He soon found his love of more underground sounds leading him to form his own agency, Blue Collar. That became Liaison a couple years ago, a rebranding that took off as the global DJ circuit became more established, and the definition of “underground” expanded to include legal club venues with a tilt toward non-mainstream crowds and sounds. Liaison also makes its name with its own parties as well — saucing up last month’s Winter Music Conference with the star-packed Last Resort party, and planning the wild annual Life and Death label party at the upcoming Detroit Electronic Music festival.
Despite repping so many foreign stars in the US, Liaison is also SF’s gateway to wider recognition for homegrown musical talent. Take its canny handling of our current most popular export, the bass-heavy, often hilarious Dirtybird crew. “Dirtybird is the missing link of the underground music world right now,” Kelsey tells me, pulling back the curtain a bit on this business we call show. “A huge population of young people is growing out of more aggressive sounds like dubstep. Now they’re looking for something that’s more sophisticated and deeper than mainstream EDM, but still a lot of big-room fun. Dirtybird has the perfect gateway sound to make that transition to some of our other big artists. So right now, our job is to make bookings that put Dirtybird in front of that crowd, and help introduce it to real techno and house.”
And that, mis amigas, is the makings of a perfect liaison.
THIS WEEK’S PARTIES:
ANDRÈS
The ambitious Detroit producer’s “New for U” was a breakout hit of 2012, but sweeping, cinematic house is just one of the mind-bending tricks up this Dilla-protege’s sleeve.
My favorite good ol’ fashioned gay house party, Fag Fridays (18 years young!), is revving up for a full-on revival with this extravaganza at Monarch. (The last one was packed and amazing.) A can’t miss for those who need/want some soul in their hole. With NY legend Tedd Patterson and SF legend David Harness, get it!
Oh gawd it’s here: let the retro-00s (retr00s?) commence! Jamie Jams and Emdee, the fiendish minds behind seminal ’90s revival party Debaser, kick it into the Interpol-Shins-Strokes-White Stripes era and take you slightly back to “a time when punks suddenly remembered how to dance” — you could still hear guitars on the radio.
Seminal SF scene queen Deena Davenport DJs at this hoot of a monthly gathering, playing rarities and B-sides on the fly, joining resident DJs Chicken, Bobby Please, The Fat Pescetarian for 15-minute tag team sets and nutso visuals, with food by Two Tarts and a Stove.
Fri/12, 6pm-midnite, free. Truck, 1900 Folsom, SF.
NONSEMBLE 6: “PIERROT LUNAIRE”
No dancefloor, but what could be more nightlife than six hot, young instrumentalists in sexy gear from Dark Garden, playing Schoenberg’s dark, Expressionist tale about a clown in love with the moon? Expand your musical mind and hit this one up at new performance venue Salle Pianos.
SUPER EGO This one’s for Scott Hardkiss — the actually legendary local-bred DJ and producer who in the early 1990s, along with his Hardkiss brothers in music Gavin and Robbie, helped put the psychedelic-ecstatic sounds of San Francisco house on the underground map. He passed away last week at 43 from what is presently believed to be an aneurysm, leaving behind his wife Stephanie, his two-year-old daughter — and legions of fans who revel in his sonic legacy. (For anyone looking to connect with Scott’s mixing genius, it does not get much better than his ’90s Essential Mixes and his final masterpiece, a gorgeously melodic, three-hour-long, balearic-to-hardcore-funk 2011 mix at Brooklyn’s Room Zero, www.soundcloud.com/scotthardkiss.)
Rave giants like Crystal Method, Derrick Carter, Frankie Bones, Tommie Sunshine, Sasha, and Rabbit in the Moon — and locals like Q-Burns Abstract Message and Jonah Sharp — have been posting tributes to Scott’s total embrace of the creative life. Jenö of fellow psych-rave pioneers the Wicked crew dedicated Midi Rain’s classic 1991 track “Eyes (Mr. C remix)” on his cool Tuesday night Noise from the Void radio show, 9pm-3am at www.90hz.org.
But the greatest musical tribute came from Hardkiss brothers Gavin and Robbie themselves. They’ve started DJing and making music together again, and absolutely ruled playing the Public Works loft a couple months ago. They posted their excellent recent, paradoxically uplifting track “Broken Hearts” (www.soundcloud.com/robgav) whose hook sounds like, “I hope that your broken heart can mend — and we can play music,” and wrote:
“1991 … San Francisco … Drunk on Love … Optimism … Anything is Possible … All in Together … Start a Family … Make Music … Forever … We lost our brother yesterday but he lives in this song. This song does not exist without Scott in our lives. Our hearts are broken that we’ll never make music together here again. We love you Scott.”
And as Q-Burns recalled, “I still remember this sort of hippie-ish thing Scott said to me: ‘This isn’t a song … it’s a living being.'” I think we can all relate. Scott is still raising the dancefloor with life.
ANOTHER WORLD
Another wild Guardian party, y’all. This one’s a can’t-miss festival of fab peacenik freaks, with an indubitably edifying cause. In honor of the deYoung’s timely new show “Eye Level in Iraq: Photographs by Kael Alford and Thorne Anderson,” we’ll be presenting a veritable carnival of underground queer personalities and game military veterans. Right up top: “Make Drag Not War — the Dragsicle!,” a project that pairs veterans with drag artists to help fight depression and produce healing and hilarious flamboyance. Also: Lil Miss Hot Mess, DJs Steve Fabus and Sergio Fedasz of GO BANG!, Phatima, League of Burnt Children, Miss Rahni, Raya Light, Rheal ‘Tea, Tara Wrist, Feyboy Collective, Combat Paper, Iraq Veterans against the War, and more. How do you actualize a more peaceful world? Start with a party, of course.
In the late 2000s, just as Polk Street was inhaling its last breath of cool queer air — soon to be released in a high-pitched squeal of East Bay bachelorettes and party bus brakes — kooky queen Anna Conda and her beloved band of misfit drags mounted one final live assault on good taste. The weekly Charlie Horse drag night focused on punk rock music and even punker and rockier performances by longtime Polk Street denizens and fantastically questionable newbies. It was like the Muppet Show imploded. After three years, Charlie Horse returns as a first Saturday monthly at the new Eagle. Anna and effervescent ob-scene queen Mutha Chucka host, with a cast of flagrant favorites including Miss Nix, Marcy Playground, Anna Warhola, Juanita Fajita, Monistat, Dean Disaster, Dam Dyke, Frieda Laye, Miss Prick, Cookie Dough, and DJ Dirty Knees.
We’re gifted with a darkly springy Jesus and Mary Chain tribute at this rollicking Britpop monthly that covers roughly four decades of great haircuts and greater tunes, mod to Madchester, ’90s indie to Northern Soul. Who else to listen to but JAMC throughout the dark months of April and May? (Well, besides Cocteau Twins, of course.) DJs Omar Aaron Axelsen, and Jeremy are your expert curators, Union Jackoff hosts the Britpop karaoke, Vis-a-Vis projects the psychedelic visuals.
Back in November of 2010, heavenly German house- and disco-rejigger king Tensnake was at the height of his powers. With several hit records, including the inescapable “Coma Cat,” and an era-defining mix for Resident Advisor under his belt, he was set to embark on a world tour (including a much-hyped stop in SF) when his hopes were felled by both family tragedy and visa problems. He all but disappeared from the scene for a while, but has recently come raging back with several ace mixes and remixes. In 2013, we’re used to dance music history being shuffled uncannily into new and funkier decks, but Tensnake’s charm and humor have been missed. Who else would successfully mix a tearjerkingly deep Aril Brikha track into a goofy Mr. Oizo rap? Or kick off his 2013 BBC Essential mix with local spiritual jazz goddess Alice Coltrane?
Sat/6, 10pm-late, $16–$25. Monarch, 101 Sixth St., SF. www.monarchsf.com
FRANCOIS K
The EndUp lost the plot for me a few years ago — I can’t even enjoy a little 5am messy on its classic dancefloor or in its one mens room stall anymore, because the music and crowd have gotten way too wraparound shades EDM. And I grew up there, k? Maybe that’s about to turn around with the appearance of this true dance music innovator, one of my top 5 faves of all time, with almost four decades of legendary production work under his belt. We’ll see! Especially with Dubtribe Soundsystem and Adnan Sharif backing up. If this is a cry for rep-restoring help, it’s gonna sound sweet.
Sat/6, 10pm-6am, $20. The End Up, 401 Sixth St., SF. www.theendup.com
V.I.V.E.K.
Dark and menacingly lovely drum-and-bass derived textures from this Deep Medi UK label favorite, who combines stalkery British underground dub sounds with an ear for ethereal percussion and some early Detroit-derived energy. He’s also rather a babe, so there you go.
This will be the last day you can read this blog for free.
To reflect the changing environment of the new business, the SF Bay Guardian will begin instituting a $27-a-day paywall April 2, in what Managing Editor Marke B said was an attempt “prevent any sane person from actually reading this stuff.”
The site known as sfbg.com will remain in place, and remain free, but all content will be removed except for the comments of Lucretia Snapples and a selected number of “guests,” whose extensive contributions the Bay Guardian hopes to spin off as another packaged product in the coming months.
All staff-written content will now be available at sfbayguardiancostsalotofmoney.com. Except for Marke B.’s own Super Ego nightlife column, since no one really knows what the hell she’s jabbering on about anyway except teenagers, and teenagers don’t pay.
The idea of newspaper paywalls is spreading, with the San Francisco Chronicle creating one just this month. “We’re, frankly, just copying the Chron,” Bieschke, who also oversees Web operations, said. “If there’s nothing in one place and something somewhere else, and nobody knows which is where or why, then it only makes sense to charge a lot of money so the traffic will all go away and I can take a goddamn nap after yesterday’s all-nighter.
SUPER EGO Can’t talk long, chicas grandes, I’m winging off to Oaxaca to dance with some gorgeous muxes, hike up lost pyramids, dive into cauldrons of darkest mole, and wooze along to the ethereal, chromatic-marimba sounds of son istmeño, one of my favorite musics in the world. (If I don’t come back, give my turquoise witchy retro-’70s thrift store jewelry to Juanita More, to distribute to wee drag newbies in need as she sees fit. And somebody play an accordion by the light of the equinox moon, because.)
Did you know that Oaxaca has one of the largest concentrations of pipe organs in the world? I did not. It’s a meta-calliope! In any case, I’ll need you to represent hard at the following parties, since I Mexican’t. See y’all in Abril.
DEEP EAST
The deep house domination of the East Bay continues with this new weekly, put on by some of pretty damned good DJs: Mo Corleone, Indy Niles, Alixr, and Nackt. Mo tells me they’re meaning to attract “house enthusiasts looking for something fresh (and maybe a little bit raw).” I’m so down.
Maybe there could be a better name for this thingie, but if you’re bonkers for that poppy yet sensual tech house sound that’s dominated the past four years and helped form an accessible corrective to corporate EDM — well, your head’s about to explode. Kindly remove your fedora! Rebel Rave Thu/14 (not really a rave) with Art Department and Damian Lazarus, Detroit’s Seth Troxler Fri/15 with Cosmic Kids, and Israeli cutie Guy Gerber Sat/16 with Cassian. ‘Nuff said.
Thu/14-Sat/16, various prices, 9pm-late. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com
AFROLICIOUS
Our favorite weekly Latin soul and Afro funk party, headed by those too-cute McGuire brothers, just released a zazzy album of live music, which is awesome. Check out the full band to celebrate, well, life and everything. You must dance to the beat of the drums.
Fri/15, 8pm, $15. Great American Music Hall, 859 O’Farrell, SF. www.gamh.com
BACK TO LIFE :: BACK TO REALITY
Vogue for life! The original dance form (not so much the Madonnified version) is back in full swing — here’s the second vogue ball this month. This time around there won’t be much shade, as our local representatives of the mighty House of Aviance (plus NYC’s fearsome Icon Mother Juan Aviance) present this showcase ball. Open to all newbies and welcoming of everyone, it should be a real hoot. Check out the link for the competition categories and bring it like a legend. With DJs Gehno Sanchez, Sergio, and Steve Fabus — and appearances by Vigure and Tone, Manuel Torres Extravaganza, many more.
One of the absolute greats of DJing returns from the UK to bring his pitch-perfect electro funk and old-school soul, seasoned for three+ decades, to the lovely Monarch’s tables. Maybe this time the club’s lighting system won’t project an error screen onto him for half his incredible set? That was neat for a minute, then weird.
Fri/15, 9pm-3am, $10–<\d>$20. Monarch, 101 Sixth St., SF. www.monarchsf.com
“HOOCH, HARLOTS, AND HISTORY: VICE IN SAN FRANCISCO”
I can tell by the title that this gathering was simply made for you. Super-cool old-timey event with complimentary native drinks pisco punch and 21st Amendment beer, plus “tales of dubious moonshine, dirty roadhouses, and nefarious characters” told by scene players like Broke-Ass Stuart and Woody LaBounty. Live music, rare film footage, and a gaggle of real characters for sure.
The name says it all for this installment of the stylish yet dour monthly Morrisseypalooza. And with both Suede and Johnny Marr pimping new albums, it’ll be a twee bloodbath. They will play “Suedehead”? They must play “Suedehead.”
SUPER EGO As Maria von Trapp sang at the climax of The Sound of Music, “Whenever the goddess closes a rave cave, somewhere she reopens a gay leather biker bar.”
That sad closure is upon us, as the wonderful 222 Hyde (www.222hyde.com), the city’s thumping bass-ment in the Tenderloin, wings into history. Owner EO emailed me a couple Saturdays ago to tell me he was closing the precious, risk-taking little venue due to pressure from the ABC state liquor board over a license technicality and uncertainty about cooperation from the 222 building’s new owners. In short: sucks.
But EO’s off to pursue his musical destiny — he killed it playing live at Robotspeak at Saturday’s Lower Haight Art Walk — as one half of upcoming analogue electronic duos Moniker (with Kenneth Scott) and Polk and Hyde (with Jonah Sharp). And you can say farewell to the lovely space, rumbly Turbo Sound system, twinkly LED dance floor ceiling, and gorgeous staff this week: a special guest superstar (cough DJ Fark Marina cough) is supposed to drop by Thu/7, the As You Like It crew brings in Dutch techno wiz San Proper on Fri/8 (9pm-2am, $20) and 222 hosts a huge closing blowout on Sat/9 (10pm-late) full of surprise guests, gushing tears, and yummy pizza. The space itself has an amazing history — as the “Three Deuces” from the 1940s-’60s, it played hst to jazz greats and wild gals. Whatever it becomes now, 222 will live 444 ever in our raving hearts.
Throwing open its gay SoMa leather biker bar sash, however, is legendary rock ‘n roll watering hole SF Eagle (www.sf-eagle.com), reopened after a final passing grade on inspections last weekend, just in time for a Sunday beer bust of epic proportions — and 45-minute-wait lines — celebrating the victory of our new Mr. SF Leather, Andy Cross. (The true crown, I heard, went to anyone who made it through the four-hour Mr. SF Leather competition.)
I latched on my Nasty Pig kneepads and checked out the space (and the returned staff!) on Saturday night, and happily found myself there all Sunday as well. New owners Alex and Mike, inheriting the gutted space once slated for a pizza restaurant, have really opened it up by exposing the vaulted ceiling of the interior, pushing the main bar against the wall, and removing the trees from the patio (sad face). Everything is painted semi-gloss black — it looks like a beerhall designed by Anselm Kiefer. Although the mirrored bar is a wee bit ultralounge and there is as of yet no crusty, comfy decor, that good ol’ Eagle spirit is alive and well-drink drunk.
The beer bust was roiling delightfully with grateful scruffs and old school fetishists. Indie kids will rejoice at the return of Thursday Night Live on Thu/7 (8pm, $7, www.tinyurl.com/thursnightlive) with bands Beard Summit, the Galloping Sea, and Reliic, hosted by the Eagle’s ace music programmer Doug Hilsinger. (The space’s new layout is perfect for live music, and more regular parties will pop up soon, I’m sure). The Eagle reopened on the final weekend of fabulously festive Hayes drag dive Marlena’s, set to become another concept bar eesh, and the tail end of Soma’s fetish-friendly Kok Bar, also closing very soon. It’s a bittersweet trade-off for sure. Meet me at the Eagle’s patio trough and we’ll commiserate.
STACEY HOTWAXX HALE
I am freaking the funk out that Detroit’s own Godmother of House is going to vibe up the Housepitality weekly’s dancefloor — along with Chicago legends Gene Hunt and CJ Larsen? Try to pry me away!
Following the Godmother of House comes the Godfather of Acid, one of the ones who started it all, Chicago Afro-Acid pioneer Pierre, whose sets are blissful rollercoasters to another, darker side.
Kick off your weeklong St. Patty’s Day binge the bhangra way, as great monthly Non Stop Bhangra brings in this beloved five-piece live band, a true multiculti mashup that meshes the Celtic with the Indian. Somehow, it works splendidly.
“Shoot and arrow and it goes real high, well good for you.” SF’s Mistress of the Gay Night Peaches Christ and formidable NYC queen Patrice Royale host a screening of the all-the-rage-again 1990 doc and a vogue ball to die for. It’ll be an ex-travaganza.
SUPER EGO One of my supreme happy places, apparently, turned out to be the packed dancefloor of an underground fundraiser for Radical Faerie Burning Man camp Comfort and Joy, right around 3am a couple Fridays ago, when the drag queen DJ dropped “Rock the Casbah” and some behooded elfin rogue’s giant LED rainbow wings lit up and blinded me. Joe Strummer smiles from heaven, surely.
Alas, that drag queen, mi amiga grande Ambrosia Salad, will soon join the current nightlife exodus to Los Angeles, to follow her twinkling star (and cheaper rent) along the path to immortality — or at least an all-night churro cart. Can we get one here please thanks. But just when I despair of the city emptying of its precious idiosyncracies and after-dark characters, someone amazing pops up to charm the hotpants off of me and remind me of both San Francisco’s resilient weirdness and its cyclical subcultural nature.
“Oh, I moved out of the Castro when the drones moved in. Everyone started wanting to look the same, dress the same. It really took the fun out of the gay scene, these marching costumes coming in and stamping out the magic.” That’s twinkle-toned Todd Trexler, poster artist, AIDS nurse, and legendary bon vivant, speaking over the phone — not about about the samey-samey Wienerville the Castro has become, but the Castro clones of the mid-1970s. For all the renewed interest in the workboots, cut-offs, and mustaches of pre-AIDS SF gay culture (see local director Travis Mathews’ exciting, upcoming, James Franco-starring Interior. Leather Bar, which imagines the lost orgy footage from classic homoerotic/gay panic slasher flick Cruising and wowed ’em at Sundance last week), it’s good to remember there were also some fabulous butterfly dissenters to that macho wannabe world.
Trexler was a player in one of the seminal moments of alternative gay culture — after snagging an art degree from SF State, he designed the posters for the queer-raucous, acid-kaleidoscopic performance troupe The Cockettes’ first official shows, as well as the Midnight Movie series, later the Nocturnal Dream Shows at the Palace Theater in North Beach in the early ’70s, back when North Beach was a magnet for free-lovin’ freaks and nightlife oddities. (See, anything can happen). Now, he’s reprinted many of those iconic and visually stunning “Art Deco revival meets Aubrey Beardsley louche meets underground comics perversion” ink-and-photo masterpieces for surprisingly affordable purchase at www.toddtrexlerposters.com.
Divine in her iconic, kooky crinoline (“Basically she just threw on a bunch of stuff from the trunk of our car and voila, Divine!”) outside the Palace of Fine Arts for the “Vice Palace” play and, later, starring in Multiple Maniacs and “The Heartbreak of Psoriasis”; Sylvester looking his sultry best for a New Year’s Eve concert, and featured on a controversially explicit piece for decidedly hetero rock outfit the Finchley Boys; Tower of Power, Zazie dans le Metro, Mink Stole as Nancy Drew, the Waterfront gay bar — Trexler’s platinum stash of memorabilia will reinvigorate anyone zoinked out by our increasingly conformist, consumerist moment. (Trexler was prodded into reprinting by my favorite classic SF eccentric, Strange de Jim.)
And hey, there’s some hope for a freakish future, even: lauded local theater troupe Thrillpeddlers, which includes a couple gorgeous surviving Cockettes itself, will put on the Cockettes’ 1971, Trexler-postered “Tinsel Tarts in a Hot Coma” starting March 28, www.thrillpeddlers.com.
Trexler’s importance to gay culture doesn’t end with his glamourous posterization, however. After his ’70s time “crafting assemblage sculptures from gems found at Cliff’s Variety Store, hand-drawing the posters in the flat at 584B Castro Street, smoking weed with Sebastian [Bill Graham’s accountant, who instigated the whole Nocturnal Dream Emissions insanity], and hanging out at the Palace and the Upper Market Street Gallery,” he moved down to Monterey and became a registered nurse, cared for the first GRID, aka AIDS, patient in the area, and pitched in on the groundbreaking early work on the epidemic with UCSF and the National Institutes of Health.
“What troubles me most now,” he says, reflecting on his experience, “is the rising prevalence of HIV infections among young gay men.” Some cycles don’t need repeating, k?
BROWN SUGAR
Heck yes — the classic hip-hop soul joint is back, scooping you up for free after the Oakland Art Murmur’s First Fridays blast, which is amazing. Brown Sugar crew Jam the Man, The C.M.E, and Sake 1 spin with the Local 1200 crew on the street and then take it inside to the spanking new Shadow Lounge (formerly Maxwell’s). Welcome back, fellas.
Fri/1 and first Fridays, 9:30pm, free. Shadow Lounge, 341 13th St., Oakl.
MATTHEW DEAR
Moody-poppy Detroit techno pretty boy is a favorite around these parts. He may have started the recent (sometimes regrettable) trend of DJs singing, but he’s one of the best at it — and his compositions aren’t afraid to get deep and edgy.
Icon Ultra Lounge is dead — please welcome new, neater venue F8 in its place. Also, after a horrific hit-and-run accident last year, beloved and crazy DJ Toph One is alive! He’s returned with his crew to reboot this eclectic-tuned early evening fave every Friday to fly you into the weekend.
Holy Balkans, Batman! Six years of wild, whirling, stomping, shouting Romani-inspired music goodness from one of the best and most unique parties anywhere, with DJ Zeljko, the Inspector Gadje brass band, and a Balkan bellydance blowout with the inimitable Jill Parker and the Foxglove Sweethearts. Get there early.
OK, the headliner for this event is actually the excellent old-school California techno wizard John Tejada (along with fellow mage Pezzner playing live) downstairs in the big room of Public Works — but the big news is a reunion of two of SF’s wiggy, wowza Hardkiss Brothers all night long upstairs in the loft. Bigness!
Sat/2, $12 advance, $15 door. Public Works, 131 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com
SUPER EGO The vivacious, vocal, and sweeter-than-sweet Honey Mahogany (www.itshoney.com) has graced the cover of the Guardian, sang at my wedding reception, and scraped me off the sidewalk outside Safeway innumerable times. But now that she’s “MISS HONEY MAHOGANY OF RUPAUL’S DRAG RACE SEASON 5” (premiering Monday, January 28 on Logo TV), I had to apply two months in advance for a 15 minute phone interview via her Beverly Hills agent. OK, OK, I could have just ambushed her at her new weekly Mahogany Mondays drag show at the revamping Midnight Sun (8pm, free. 4067 18th St., SF. www.midnightsunsf.com), but I wanted her with her “fame” face on, for kicks.
“It’s seriously a more-than-fulltime job being Honey Mahogany right now,” the Bay beauty practically panted. “If I think about everything I’m doing I’ll get overwhelmed. But the response has been so incredible — a couple of times at parties I’ve felt I needed a bodyguard!” And what would her dream bodyguard look like? “I just want to live that whole movie The Bodyguard,” she laughs. Has all the attention — and working with a catty cast — changed her at all? “I’m still sweet me, but if a queen crossed the line and went for someone I loved, oh, there was some reading.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d2hl5_aMH_E
Besides releasing a single called “It’s Honey,” shooting videos, working on an EP, maintaining a social media empire, throwing a weekly party, and guest-hosting practically every damn party in the city — whew! — the “everything else” she doing, and why she really deserves this moment, is her day job as youth director at the Rainbow Community Center in Contra Costa, which offers HIV tests, counseling, a food pantry, and much more for an oft-overshadowed queer population.
But social worker selflessness isn’t the only way Honey can proudly claim to be first queen from San Francisco to represent us on the Race. “I channeled so much of what I learned growing up gay in the Bay for the challenges,” she said. “When we had to make something out of nothing, I thought of [drag fashion genius] Mr. David. And whenever something called for a different style, I had no problem, since the scene in San Francisco embraces everything from avant-garde to more traditional lipsync performances, and I had always been around all that, because it’s all in this family.
“In fact — you’ll see in the first episode — Rupaul pokes fun at me about being from San Francisco. But I’m proud to be a little bit gritty and a lot glamorous!” Well, good luck to you, Honey.
ICEE HOT’S TWICE FOR THRICE
“Weirdo house, outsider artists, and underground pioneers,” is how Ghosts on Tape, one-quarter of the feisty-eared Icee Hot party crew (www.facebook.com/iceehot) categorizes the slew of awesome guests that have graced its tables in the three years the unpredictable party has thrown down, mostly at Public Works. This sounds, of course, like my kind of party — and for what launched as a joint devoted to some of the newer UK bass permutations crossing the pond via Internet, Icee Hot has grown into something much more fascinating: a full-fledged vibe. No decorations, no bells and whistles, cute but hardly groundbreaking flyer design, no distinct genre profile, an irregular schedule. But then: a packed floor, much respect, and a jaw-dropping roster of guest artists backed by the musically unhindered Icees (also including Shawn Reynaldo, Low Limit, and Rollie Fingers).
Those guests? MK, Jeff Mills, Robert Hood, Anthony “Shake” Shakir, Stingray, Bok Bok, Hieroglyphic Being, MikeQ, Ramadanman, Martin Kemp, Kingdom, Brenmar, Falty DL, and many, many more of my secret boyfriends … And, um, when house god Todd Edwards unveils a surprise, specially-composed Icee Hot theme song at the start of his set, you know you’re the shit.
The Icees are blasting a two-part third anniversary party at Public Works (www.publicsf.com): Sat/19 sees dreamy R&B chopper Jacques Greene (yes from the Azaelia Banks video) and Dutch hyperdubber Martyn on deck. Part two on Sat/26 brings in alien techno soundscaper Space Dimension Controller and astral floor-pounder Basic Soul Unit. It’s gonna be a crazy couple weeks of great music — and if you hit this link before it’s too late, you can go to both parties for a mere $15: www.tinyurl.com/iceehot3.
ESKMO
An excellent prestidigitator. San Francisco man of many talents samples himself live, looping sounds he coaxes from soda bottles and tin cans into multi-genre journeys that lead you by the ear onto the dance floor, as if by musical magic.
Caught this intense (and handsome, hubba hubba) Brit techno-dubber when he was here a few months ago, right before his Luxury Problems EP dropped and cemented his reputation as one of the smartest electronic musicmakers going. Deep and hypnotic, but totally danceable, with a focus on industrial textures and maximum throb — should be perfect on Mighty’s soundsystem.
The SF Dirtybirder delivered my favorite moody bass mixes of 2012 — and he just dropped an awesome Soundcloud set called “Winter Jungle Mix” that’s doing wonders in pushing ahead the nascent drum ‘n bass revival. He’ll be working downlow wonders with the great J.Phlip, Leroy Peppers (a.k.a. the goofier side of Justin’s brother Christian) and Worthy at the Dirtybird label’s 2013 Winter Quarterly party.
Fri/18, 9pm-4am, $5 before 11, $20 after. mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. www.mezzaninesf.com
FREEDUB 6-YEAR ANNIVERSARY
The happy, unholy house-techno coalition of the Dubalicious and Freeform crews celebrates a sixer, with the Odyssey party’s excellent Robin Simmons joining Jonboy, Floorcraft, and many other SF faves on deck.
SUPER EGO So, there is a hipster church called Reality SF. (Not to be confused with the pretty great, all-singing, some-dancing hipster synagogue, the Kitchen — www.thekitchensf.com. “Slow down, Jew up.”) I’m not sure what all goes on there because Jesus is kind of mainstream. But I do know that every Sunday morning when I’m crawling home from whosever’s house, there’s this amazingly fly and fashion-forwardy crowd of young people on the sidewalk outside Swedish American Music Hall. The hot hair alone had me praising the Holy Spirit. I needed to know more.
Turns out the Reality church dealie — www.realitysf.com, founded in 2010 — comes with indie-flavored music (plus set lists and free downloads), slick videos and podcasts, roving locations, and a charismatic leader named Dave. And, for the month of January, the glamorous congregation is meeting at Everett High School for “slow church” Sundays, including food trucks and a climactic re-baptism using a giant kiddie pool. Paging Portlandia: our SF reality is basically writing your next season. In any case: yes, it’s gay-friendly, but it’s still a bit conservative, so you probably won’t get laid there. However, you may get some great tips for your 2k13 look.
Faith, now with food trucks. Can a super-twee mobile artisan church-truck, possibly called Holy Rollin’, be far behind? I’m still waiting for my mobile leather bar/sex club truck, Glory Holellujah.
ALLAND BYALLO VS. DAVE AJU
The effervescent Housepitality weekly pairs two of SF’s international techno heavyweights, the now-Berlin-based Byallo and the globe-hopping Aju, for some juicy tag-team table collab. It’ll be a little bit wiggy, a lot dancey. With Craig Kuna, Joel Conway, and JP Soul.
Classic Cali house DJs Hipp-e and Halo, aka H-Foundation, are flying in fresh from Mexico’s heated BPM Festival with some major comeback tailwind. They’re appearing with premium Glaswegian techno duo Slam, bringing some great ’90s energy.
Fri/11, 9:30-3:30am, $15–$20. Public Works, 161 erie, SF. www.publicsf.com
STEVE BUG
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znxyO7nUbsE
Is minimal techno retro yet? Of course, the scintillatingly clean sound (once dubbed “Windex music” by our own Greg Bird of the Kontrol crew) never really went away. But essential minimal label Poker Flat was launched in 1999 (the same year Richie Hawtin dropped seminal Decks, EFX, & 909) — next in line, after a forthcoming drum and bass revival, on our retro creep up the ’90s. Poker Flat founder Steve Bug’s appearance should be a treat for those who want to revisit the sound — and see what tech-house-y things Bug’s been doing with it.
One of my musical high points of 2010 was seeing dreamy glitch-hop pioneer Prefuse 73 at Slim’s, engaging in a ear-blowing impromptu jam session with a live guitarist and gonzo future bass guru Gas Lamp Killer on drums. As the live opener for beloved Philly trippy-hopper RJD2 (also live), I’m sure more sparks will fly high.
Fri/11, 10pm-3am, $20–$25. 103 Harriet, SF. www.1015.com
THREE SOME THING
The party list this week is so full of dudes. We need some drag queens up in here, for sers. Happy third birthday to the weekly Some Thing party, put on by my favorite trio of theatrical gender clowns — Glamamore, VivvyAnne ForeverMore, and DJ Down-E — who really know how to put on shoooow. One of the best things in the city is Haute Gloo’s genius interactive craft table. I made a swan out of porn mags and pancake batter! DJs Stanley Frank and Robin Simmons play delightful tunes from all over.
Two diabolical bass-bounce kids, bringing it down at the youthful, Angelfiery, green-screen-dream Y3K party. With Nanosaur, Joaquin Bartra, candy, bubbles, and lasers.
Fri/11, 10pm, $10 advance. DNA Lounge, 375 11th St., SF. www.dnalounge.com
BRUTAL SOUNDS EFFECTS FESTIVAL #72
Really looking forward to some earhole mindfuckery from various experimental electronic crews at the bleeding edge Lab space. With Antimatter, Pulsating Cyst, Ebony Cubbyhole, Beast Nest, Moo Kao, Ribspace, and more. I made none of the above names up.
Anybody can go out to any fabulous party on New Year’s Eve. But how long can you survive into the dawning of 2k13? Below are the best parties happening on Tuesday, New Year’s Day — how low can you go! (It’s kind sad that we now only have one day a year that’s like SF nightlife in the 90s, sigh.)
But first, here’s the exact chill-before-thrill mix I want to hear at 7am rolling up to the venue with my girls, blunt smoke pouring from the cracked window:
OK Lets Do This. Click in the names for Facebook invite link thingie.
Features: Hot queers, bedazzled club kids and dragged-out drag queens, leftover horny bears from the Bearracuda NYE party in the same venue, gorgeous early risers.
Music: Post-disco disco, acidy house, kiss-kiss techno with DJs Stanley Frank, Robert Jeffrey, Doc Sleep, Steve Fabus, Sergio Fedasz, P-Play, M*J*R, Trevor Sigler
Features: Supperclub’s athletic blend of acrobatic burlesquers, cool characters, old school partiers, and feather-bedecked smilers.
Music: Lovely, pumping soulful house and tech plus a dose of psychedelia with DJs David Harness, Galen, Rrooz, Andrew Phelan, Alain Octavo, Cosmic Selector, Michael Anthony, Meikee Magnetic, Marija Dunn
Features: This party at Monarch was THE party last year, a blurred and delirious intersection of dancefloor mavens and fabulous personages (a few of whom had lost their shoes somewhere along the night’s way, ahem.) Good times.
Music: Straight up house-y (and disco edit) goodness fromspecial NYC guest Justin Vandervolgen, Solar, Conor, 40 Thieves, James Glass, Junior, Dewey Chan, Jdisco, Soft Soil.
Features: Weekend mornings at the lovely Monroe in North Beach have become the new End Up for those of us into great music and meeting up with other adventurous souls. I was tickled pink to hear there’s a New Year’s Day party there — it’ll be cute-bananas.
Music: Techno! Lots of techno. I bet I know what huge name DJ will be the special surprise guest (ahem, Bee Lurridge?) — but that person will have great backing from DJs Nikita, Rooz, Bo, Nikola Baytala, MossMoss, Pete Fraiser, and Francesco Signorile.
Features: Tons and tons of Burning Man fun, including a lot of runny neon mascara and sequined cowboy hats — now even bigger since this party has moved to Mighty and taken over the whole block.
Music: Funky techno with a little acid-crunk craziness from the Space Cowboys camp DJs and friends.
Features: Starts at 2pm, so you’ll get a bit of everything at this beloved party teaming up two legendary SF house crews at the well-patioed, great sounding Club Cocomo.
Music: Sooo yummy house with deep international flavor from special Mexican guest Daniel Maloso plus breakout local duo Tone of Arc and DJs Tasho, Solar, Deron, Galen, Sweet P, J-Bird
Features: More kooky, cray-cray, superfunky Burning Man-based goodness from the infamous Brass Tax afterhours crew at this gonzo annual affair at Public Works.
Music: Funky house, alien techno, and straight-up funk from DJs JoeJoe, Ding Dong, Mace, Ernie Trevino, Haute Mess, Ethan Miller, MoPo, and TophOne
3pm-midnite, $5-$10. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF.
If you are still party-functional and looking for some awesome parties to go to around 11pm, might I suggest the bass-head Icee Hott DJs guesting at the ever-amazing High Fantasy at Aunt Charlie’s and the friendly, dance-crazed future bass shenanigans of Soundpieces at Monarch.
SUPER EGO Buckethead is playing the Great American Music Hall on New Year’s Eve. Isn’t that all you need to know, really? But if you must shred your own final night of 2k12 with a lampshade, rather than a KFC bucket, on your head, here are some ragers I’d recommend. Check out this week’s music and stage listings for more.
And since it’s the end of another spectacular year of love on the dance floor, your humble (yet gorgeous) Super Ego says thanks and spanks for supporting her alternative, culture-forward nightlife writing. In a media landscape that’s rapidly tilting toward pay-to-play, I try my double-damndest to keep it real and write about the actual best things out there that are making nightlife better. I couldn’t do it without all your input and affection. (/wipes tear) (takes swig). Happy 2k13!
“A Very Cheap & Vulgar Tenderloin-Realness NYE!” Let’s kick off on a high note! DJ Bus Station John is offering a respite from the big-name (except his, of course), overpriced hoo-haw this year, with this super-affordable gay disco extravaganza, sure to melt the cockles of your hardened election-year heart. One of my favorite people, Donna Persona, hosts. Cock-tales!
Afrolicious NYE Who can deny the hotness and talent of the funky McGuire brothers, Senor Oz and Pleasuremaker? Their fantastic combination of live-accompanied Latin funk, afrobeat, old school gold and classic soul always make me and many smile ear-to-ear. This bash will have you shaking tail vigorously. With horn king Will Magid and DJ Lucio K.
9pm, $15–$30. Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. www.elbo.com
Bearracuda NYE This huge gay bear party is guaranteed to be the biggest. Physically. And we’re really into that. With DJs Matt Consola, Medic, and Freddie King of Pants, plus assorted furballs.
Bootie SF: NYE 2013 Oh Bootie, you’ve given us so, so many years of mash-up joy — don’t stop believin’! Now you’re upping the ante by joining dark forces with one of the longest-running and best parties in the city, Death Guild (goth and gamer goodness!) for a Bootieful blowout. With A Plus D, Mykill, Adrian and Mimi, Vau de Vire Society, and more.
9pm-late, $30–$40. DNA Lounge, 375 11th St., SF. wwww.bootiesf.com
Club 1994 New Years Eve Ball I wasn’t even born until 1998, but I’m dying to know what color slap-on bracelets will be available at this cheeky flashback party. Possibly there will be Urkel balloons! DJs Jeffrey Paradise and Vin Sol take us all to TRL and TLC.
Extravaganza NYE Ball No, this is not a vogueing scene from Paris is Burning — it’s a great dose of homegrown house and techno, as beloved DJ Alland Byallo swings back in from Berlin to join Nikola Baytala, DJ Spun, M3, Omar, and a slew of hot rekkids kids.
Futuropolis Broken bass and acid crunk galore! Soooo many DJs and performance at this one — standouts include an-ten-nae, the Polish Ambassador, Star Slinger, Holy Other, Mykki Blanco, Blackbird Blackbird. Twelve hours of music, goes until 9am when we look prettiest.
9pm-veeeery late, $50 advance. 1015 Folsom, SF. www.1015.com
Honey Sunset NYE Two of our biggest and best house parties team up once again to blaze. Co-headliner Manik is an expert at blending guitar pop into electronic sets that soar, while featured duo Still Going, one of my personal faves, keeps the dancefloor rolling into the wee hours with good ol’ fashioned massive vibes. There will also be SF-flavored personality galore.
Lucky 13: Lexington Club NYE Bash Another rad dyke-a-palooza from the great folks at the Lex. DJ Jenna Riot stokes the lesbinsanity. Hottt girls and bois everywhere. Cans of Sophia Coppola Champagne only six bucks!
M.O.M. NYE Pretty much the nation’s most successful and cute Motown night, Motown on Mondays, is getting supreme with this wonder-ful party. “We’re gonna party like it’s 1959!”
8pm, $20. Madrone, 500 Divisadero, SF. www.momsf.com
NYE at THENWBLK Drag goddess Juanita More showers her party fabulosity down upon this new and fantastic showplace space in the Mission that feels like an underground rave hole. Blaksheep, comprised of DJs Ken Vulsion and Derek Bobus, supply the techno-ey tunes, while Voodoo Van provides the eats.
The People Can we all just move to Oakland and have the People throw parties all the time? That old-time house magic is alive and well at People parties, full of art, wonder, and a whole lot of “woo!”s from the dancefloor. Revered poet and decks master Rich Medina is in from Philly to set the new year off right.
SUPER EGO Look, if I was doing my job properly, there’s no way in Hello Kitty I’d remember what happened on the club scene the past year. It’s all fuzzy shapes and drunk colors, like Barbara Bush in a bathhouse. Last February, it took me two whole pages of tiny type just to list my favorite weekly clubs, so I’m not gonna go into all that here. (I will say that parties like Housepitality, Honey Soundsystem, Lights Down Low, Icee Hot, Dub Mission, Non-Stop Bhangra, No Way Back, As You Like It, Forward, Deep, Base, and Sunset continued to introduce us to incredible DJs. And wasn’t there someone from Detroit here, like, every week?) Here are some things, however, I do recall
Loudest: Body and Soul at Mighty — my ears rang for a week, my feet for three.
Wowest: Amon Tobin’s giant tetris of digital video projections for his ISAM Live 2.0 tour at the Greek Theater.
Scary-Hottest: International leather techno entity Luther at Folsom Street Fair.
Coolest: Marco De La Vega, cross-genre promoter of the year, watching from the DJ booth as a kick-ass $3000 light falls on a table’s-worth of Balam Acab and Andy Stott’s live electronic equipment at Public Works. Then finishing his cocktail before handling the ensuing panic.
Wowest, part 2: The SF Symphony’s American Mavericks concert series (including a Kate Bush-referencing piece by DJ Masonic), SF Opera’s “Nixon in China,” the amazing Soundwave Festival, the hella robust Electronic Music festival.
Trippiest: Those immersive projections at Public Works, which turned Laurent Garnier’s live show into a cartoon-heart-filled rave aquarium and Jeff Mills’ into a star-map vortex.
Cutest: The tiny flashing lights on the ceiling of the remodeled, excellent 222 Hyde.
Latest: We got a trap club (Trap City), a new wave of cyber-horror drag performance artists (at Some Thing, Dark Room, High Fantasy), a packed gay sports bar (Hi Tops), a great-sounding new club (Monarch), a lunchtime dance party (Beats for Lunch, also at Monarch), an outbreak of vogueing (everywhere), a queer nu-hip-hop club (Swagger Like Us), a queer funk classics party (Love Will Fix It), and a weird “sparkling alcohol water” (Air). But we lost Club Six, which I loved. Also I think dubstep died.
Loveliest: Dancing in a church with 30 other people to hip-house legend Tyree Cooper, singing along to “Turn Up the Bass.” Watching real house parties like The People blow up in the East Bay. Sipping homemade sljivovica behind the decks with DJ Zeljko of Kafana Balkan. Doing the jerk ’til I melted at Hard French. DJing (eek!) Club Isis classics on vinyl at Go Bang. I think I almost made out with Kenny Dope at Red Bull Music Academy? Oh, and running into you.
1. Todd Terje, “Inspector Norse” This was a dance music year that sometimes seemed to vacillate among three primary moods — prim sophistication, moneyed “indulgence,” and too-broad jokes. But Norwegian Terje dared proffer the sweetest humor in this instant earworm’s worth of re-engineered nostalgia, embracing the cheery electronic toodles of early ’80s British and Scandinavian TV show themes (cf. especially “Grange Hill” and “Swap Shop,” though not “Inspector Morse”) and bringing smiles back to the dance floor.
2. John Talabot, FACT Mix 315 A spectacular year for the Spaniard, whose expansive take on the decades-old Balearic sound already had him pegged for a 2012 favorite, even before he dropped excellent album Fin, which toyed with melancholic UK bass sounds and yielded my second favorite tune of the year, hopelessly romantic “So Will Be Now” with Pional. But this mix for FACT showed that the dark underpinnings of witchy house and the sunstroked uplift of Ibiza could be reconciled via a tingly rush of subtle, brilliant psychedelia. Trippy, lovely, and the right little bit of creepy.
3. Plan B, “Ill Manors” I detested The Prodigy the first time around — they were goofy twats who had nothing to be angry about. No surprise “Firestarter” was played for the Queen at this year’s Olympics opening ceremony. So much for anarchy in the UK, although Azaelia Banks mashing it up with “212” at Coachella was fun. UK rapper-singer Plan B managed to weld the Prodigy (and nascent drum and bass) revival to the real world anarchic energy of last year’s UK riots, his Tchaikovsky-sampling tune shivering with council flat rage, ambivalent violence, Olympic protest, and youthful nihilism. Watch his self-directed, horrifically poignant shoestring video, then laugh at the Grammys as accolades rain down on Romain Gavras’ extravagant ripoff for “No Church in the Wild.”
4. Rrose, Smoke Machine Podcast 069 Electronic Body Music for our time, rippling with muscular textures and ethereal trap doors.
5. Justin Martin, Crackcast 019 For all the diversity of the local scene, the Dirtybird crew is still our major player on the global dance music stage. (Of our three big breakout acts this year, Safeword is rad, Poolside is cute, Pillow Talk leaves me cold so far.) Fine, I adore them. Nobody else sounds like they’re having more fun while slyly executing tricky, emotionally satisfying bass maneuvers like Claude VonStroke and his stable. This year was stellar for the fiendishly clever Justin in terms of addictive mixes (his album “Ghettos and Gardens” was good, too, but I took issue with the insensitive tone of some of the promotional materials). This podcast, along with his Fabric and Clash ones, never left my iRotation.
OTHERS: MK, Old School Classics Mix; Le1f, “Wut”; Azaelia Banks, “Fierce”; Fantastic Mr. Fox, “San’en”; Andy Stott, “Luxury Problems EP”; Dutch Uncles, “Fester”; Ripperton, “Let’s Hope”; Sailor & I, “Tough Love (Aril Brikha remix)”; Jessie Ware and Julio Bashmore, “110%,”; Disclosure, “Latch”; Prince Club and Steve Huerta, “Can’t Let Go”; Bwana, “Baby Let Me Finish (Black Orange Juice Remix)”; Stereogamous, “Feel Love Anew”; Little People, “Aldgate Patterns.”
Caitlin Donohue does South Beach during the country’s most excessive week of art. Check out her other Basel 2012 posts here
Faced with a daunting calendar, we went straight to the belly of the Art Basel beast on our first day in Miami: South Beach. The centerpiece of this belly, of course, is Art Basel — “Art Basel proper,” as one must call it during a week with over 20 satellite fairs in orbit around the main event.
Tip: do not try to see it all at Art Basel proper. I highly recommend doing it as Lovemonster and I did, starting out with a talk in the Art Salon. The labyrinth of galleries and their art and endless muted hush of high-level art dealings can make the whole affair seem robotic, so it was real nice to witness a coherent, out-loud discussion among human beings.
The panel focused on Middle Eastern street art as a form of political expression. I got all fangirl about the last-minute addition of French street artist JR (level of geographical appropriateness be damned) to the talk, but was even more thrilled that the moderator was billed as ¨Princess Alia Al-Senuzzi, patron, London.¨ BASEL Other panelists included Bomi Odufunade, director of special projects at London´s outsider art mecca Museum of Everything, and Tala Sanah, author of Marking Beirut.
Conversation focused on the recent appearance of art-focused street art in the Middle East, and how it related to the political scrawls that have long served as stand-in for uncomfortable political conversations between neighbors there. I found the distinction between artists and political followers a little clunky, but the images flashed on-screen behind the panelists of Middle Eastern murals were amazing, and made me want to read Sanah´s book. JR kind of dominated the talk though, with his handwaving Frenchiness, making me wish Odufunade would moderate with a slightly heavier hand. BASEL
We left the talk early because the older Mid-West mom who sat next to us was having trouble not gawking at my pink hair. These creatures abound at Art Basel, providing quite the incongruous counterpoint to the freakish gazelles of South Beach until you realize the oldies are probably millionaires and really, who the hell am I to say that a brokeass alt-culture writer belongs in this scene any more than them? Her shoes def looked better suited to gallery stomping than my not-enough-broken in kicks, so good job lady and next time just take a picture.
Stop number two (after a brief intermission spent in a smoothie shop that was blasting techno music at 2pm MIAMI) was the massive translucent white tent on the beach that is housing Untitled Art Fair. Untitled´s a young buck in its first year of existence, and breaks from the usual fair mode in that a single dude (New York´s Omar Lopez-Chahoud) curated the whole, 50-gallery affair. The venue is flash as hell, foregoing spotlights on the art for primarily natural light, and designed to ¨flow¨ between gallery spaces.
Chicago gallerist Monique Meloche has shown at NADA and Pulse art fairs during Basel week before, but told us that participating in Untitled “is super-different. Omar calls you up and says ‘I want to do something with Justin,’ and then you pick complimentary pieces.”
Justin, of course, being Justin Cooper, whose site-specific rubber hose sculpture welcomed attendees off the beach into Untitled. A smaller creation sat on the floor in the middle of Meloche’s set-up, which also included pieces by Ebony Patterson, a Jamaican-born artist who works with mug shots of male criminals, converting them into ravishing drag queens with DIY-like touches like vinyl flowers cut from common household items. To complete the trifecta (all Untitled exhibitors were allowed three), she paired Patterson and Cooper with Iran´s Sheree Hovsepian, who manipulates dark room proofs to create deceptively simple abstracts. All three, Meloche told us, worked with elements of craft, mixing high and low materials and references.
Throughout the exhibit you could see touches of Lopez´s personal preferences — there was a lot of abstract work, for example, although I´m not sure you could classify Paco Cao´s dead celeb tarot card prints (at $25, they were the cheapest pieces on sale at the fair) as abstract. Maybe the presentation of them, though. Cao sat in a hidey hole built with gallery walls, screaming out readings he did with the cards of fest-goers.
Growing discomfort of my neon pink boots be damned, we made it to our third fair of the day, the free-entry (this is pretty much unheard of among Basel week fairs) New Art Dealers Alliance or NADA art fair, in the Deauville Beach Resort. We got a serious hit of hometown pride over the Bay galleries that made it to NADA — Oakland´s Creative Growth gallery for developmentally and otherwise disabled artists was showcasing William Scott´s R&B culture icon paintings, and can I just say that Cindy, Terry, Maxine, and Dawn of En Vogue have never looked lovelier. We also got to check out Oakland´s Et Al Projects, and SF´s CCA Wattis Institute and Queen´s Nails.
And I know what you´re thinking and yeah duh, we´re partying too. Like, with mansions and shit. boychild (who along with another member of our SF-does-Basel crew, Dia Dear, were the subject of Marke B.´s Super Ego column last week) tipped us off to ¨The Body As Lightning Conductor,¨ a private party which turned out to be in a mansion you got to via yacht . We all stood around this Spanish-style mansion (or, y´know, ducked into the well-appointed library) housing drinks from the open bar with aforementioned Mid-West millionaires, high fashion West Coast club kids. All retired to the ballroom (!) to check out a vogue crew tear it down around midnight.
Then, lacking a cab or cabfare, I got in a buncha strangers´ car (I think the dude sitting shotgun was a rapper), allowed them to buy me fries from the Wendy´s drive-thru, and then ditched them when they got mired in the standstill traffic going through Wynwood, charged my phone on some DJ´s powerstrip who was playing a set in a cigar factory, danced while it charged, and then made the Fountain Art Fair after-party with a buncha street artists/street art festival organizers BASEL
Chris Brown´s painting entitled ¨Chompuzz¨ is on display at hipster clusterfuck Basel Castle tonight, which is pretty much my only priority to see tonight. Center of the art world! BASEL!
There are two moments from my 2011 pilgrimage that duel in my mind for the title of quintessential Miami Art Basel. One, when that couple at the SCOPE Festival was examining the multi-thousand-dollar rhinestone hamburger for purchase. Two, Pharrell climbing onstage before Yelawolf’s set at the much-hyped “party of the year” Basel Castle and telling us that “this week, it’s all about the artists. But also, it’s all about… you guys.”
Someone smart — was it Erick Lyle? — once told me that for an artist, visiting the premier US art festival (which centers around the Art Basel Miami fair proper at the Miami Beach Convention Center, a happening imported of course, from Basel, Switzerland) is akin to seeing one’s parents having sex. Money is thick in the air, because that’s how art survives in capitalistic society. Events like Art Basel are the reason we can have professional artists — even if the action right in front of you can still make indie types feel creepy-crawly.
But Guardian sex writer Kelly Lovemonster and I are nonetheless headed down on Thursday. Because Basel week, for all its wacky, is an artistic convergence like nothing else. Miami becomes the place for superb (and superbly-funded, but more on that later) murals, rhinestone hamburgers, Pharrell cameos, women living in glass boxes with pigs, South Beach promenades that culminate in surprise pool parties, and if you’re lucky like we were last year, Lance Bass sightings.
Of course, if you’re reading something I’ve written, you’re probably more interested in the younger bucks, like the New Art Dealers Association (NADA), where Mission gallery Ratio 3 is showcasing some Barry McGee, Mitzi Pederson, and more. Also at NADA will be the rad Silverman Gallery. We’re not gonna lie, we’re kind of hyped for Untitled, the too-cool beach expo that already has stirred up a rivalry with NADA, which encouraged its artists not to exhibit at both fairs. Ink Miami, a relatively low-key affair that focuses on paper-based art, Berkeley’s Paulson Bott Press will exhibit intaglio prints from Clare Rojas and the luminous Isca Greenfield-Sanders:
Across the causeway, in the Wynwood/Design District/Midtown neighborhoods, will be most of the younger (read: cheaper) scene. White Walls gallery will once again be at SCOPE. I’m particularly stoked to check out SF artist Ferris Plock’s pieces, since I missed his solo show there earlier this year.
SCOPE will also host 11 of Scott Hove‘s freak cakes, which you need to see to believe:
WHAT ELSE? STREET ART?
Wynwood bowled me over last year with its halluciongenic wall-to-wall of fresh murals like, everywhere (I hear the competition this year is fiiiierce for vertical space.) The progenitor of this scene, developer and gentrifier par excellence Tony Goldman, died this year (I snuck in an interview before he passed), which is bound to have some repercussions on street art funding in the years to come. Shepard Fairey is doing an R.I.P. wall for Goldman at the “Come and Dream” memorial being painted for him at 25th Street and 2nd Avenue in Wynwood, so…
There’s noone galleries from California on the line-up, but the seventh annual Fountain Art Fair should also be really good if you’re into younger artists — they’ve got a whole “Breeder Lounge” full of up-and-comers, and one of the largest street artist lineups of the week.
Last year’s Basel street art darling RETNA painted the facade for this year’s new Louis Vuitton Design District store… Another street art oddity will be the six-and-a-half tons of Banksy walls that have been removed from their original settings and plunked down at the ironically-named Context, the first year of 23-year-old Miami Art Fair’s event-within-an-event. There’s a rumor that some of the walls came outta Bethlehem. We’ll investigate for you.
Also at Miami Art Fair, Peter Anton’s amusement park ride “Sugar and Gomorrah,” which plays on themes evident from the title (Peep a slideshow of that toothache here.)
And obviously, keep your eyes peeled for guerrila shows. With so many art fans/warm bodies in one place, there’s bound to be some enterprising, low budget sorts.
Here’s a nice map/comprehensive list of all eight million art fairs. Huffington Post dials it back to 18 high school stereotypes, if you’re more comfortable with boxes (or just wanna know about the frat boys-in-a-box that SCOPE caged a few years ago.)
ANYONE ELSE?
Well, yeah. Bay babies boychild and Dia Dear (freakdrag ingenues of Marke B.’s Super Ego nightlife column this week on the new club performance art) will bring the weird tonight, Wed/5, to Chez Deep’s Scylla party. On Sat/8, Dear’s at the Deauville Beach Resort for the free NADA pool party with Alexis Blair Penney a host of other hotties, and Child takes the stage at Frankie Sharp’s Westgay NYC-in-MIA pool party at the Shore Club. Scene queen Juanita More will be sweeping grandly past the Art Deco hotels, too.
Also, I know where Pharrell will be in advance for more platitudes about not being an actual artist! He’s at the opening party for the clothing store Moncler in Bar Harbour Shops (9700 Collins, Miami Beach) at 6pm on Sat/8. Perhaps you remember Moncler as the clothing line that released jackets designed by Mr. Williams using bionic thread at Art Basel Miami 2009. Pharrell will be signing copies of his new book whose title has his own name in it, Pharrell: Places and Spaces I’ve Been.
Other crazies: Tiesto on Sat/8 and a big-ass, hella expensive hip-hop show that’ll plunk Rick Ross, Wale, Machine Gun Kelly, and others in the same building as Art Basel Miami (ha!) The big UR1 Music Festival that was supposed to be headlined by Kanye got canceled due to “inclement weather conditions” and lingering effects of “Hurricane Sandy,” which hasn’t seemed to have affected anything else this week.
If your dogs are barking from too much gallery strut, I’ve got the perfect spot to chill. Art Basel Miami will be projecting art films onto the Frank Gehry-designed New World Center’s 7,000 square foot outdoor wall — flicks like Ryan McGinley’s lovely video for Sigur Ros and Marie Bovo’s documentation of a watermelon rolling down the streets of Seoul.
CAN I CRASH WITH YOU?
Nope! But due to economic vagaries, I just booked my Airbnb room yesterday ($100/night for a room in a Design District apartment fulla younger types), so I’m pretty sure you can — ahem — make your own arrangements.
I dunno. But for a little perspective on what all this glitter and glitz means in terms of art art, I recommend peeping this disemboweling piece (which I’m recycling from first-timer-this-year Baseler and indie Mission curator Tyler Hanson’s Facebook page) before boarding the flight to MIA.
Follow us on Twitter for of-the-moment favorite walls, outfits, and party mutterings: @caitlindonohue <3 @gurlwhereyouat. And check back with Pixel Vision for images, interviews, musings.
SUPER EGO Scene: Midnight, Tiara Sensation drag pageant, Rickshaw Stop, September. A naked, enormously white-and-purple-bewigged figure in two-foot-high Plexiglass heels, laid across three raised Plexiglass pillars, faces away from us. The pitched down strains of Frank Ocean’s “Pyramid,” his voice syrupped into a slo-mo Judy Garland phantasmagoria, drown us in waves of bass. Sheee’s wooorkiiing at the Pyyyramid toniiiight.
Awkwardly, riskily the figure rises almost to the rafters, its back still to us, spreads its legs, and begins to pull a tangled string of multicolored Christmas lights from her crotch. It performs this deliberately, turning the Rickshaw stage into a pressure cooker of strobe lights, sexual horror, and incipient danger — a strip club where no one can hear you scream. The atmosphere is so tense that when the figure finally turns around to reveal her eyeless, bloody-mouthed, death-pale self, as Ocean’s voice tweaks a level higher, shivers and gasps run right through the audience. Shiva the Great Destroyer, her tits bound with duct tape, a makeshift pouch at her crotch the source of her glittering lights.
It’s an out-of-body look that works. And it’s emblematic of a new glitchy-nightmare drag style (or the reboot of one) that’s bewitching clubgoers.
DIA DEAR
The performer was the amazing Dia Dear, one of a number of recent young arrivals who’ve zapped nightlife to another level by unselfconsciously — and quite organically — raiding the shelves of performance art, horror films, contemporary R&B, club kid history, and the Walgreen’s down the street to create striking personae for themselves, and electrify the city’s drag stages. They’re also so freaking smart it scares me, no Christmas crotch lights required.
Drag as confrontational, sometimes blood-spilling performance art has a long history here, of course, from the Cockettes in the 1970s, through the Popstitute and Club Uranus scenes in the early ’90s, through Trannyshack into the ’00s. It’s currently found a home at the Some Thing party every Friday at the Stud, High Fantasy every Tuesday at Aunt Charlie’s, and the Dark Room monthly party at Hot Spot. Iconic, sensibility-scrambling club kid styles like those of Michael Alig, Desi Monster, James St. James, our own Phatima Rude and Ggreg Taylor, and the ultimate drag inverter-perverter Leigh Bowery are all the rage in this retro-minded, post-Gaga moment. But something about this fresh wave, something about how it’s coming from people with no nightlife background at all, is different. Drag stages have become the affordable breeding ground for committed performance artists, expressing essential truths about our moment. Mere lipsyncing is so last century.
boychild
“I never even knew who Leigh Bowery was until people started mentioning his name this summer,” boychild, another of this new tribe, told me over the phone. (I live next door to boychild, and it’s not rare to find a neon-yellow spray-painted birdcage, a chandelier made of wigs, or an entire store display case sitting outside, waiting to become part of a perspective-shattering outfit or brandished onstage in a cyber-Wiccan, dystopian android ritual.) Like Dia, boychild just started going out to clubs very recently — pretty much arriving out of nowhere, both of them declining to share their pasts — and when she did she was almost fully formed as a stage presence, with a genius sense of makeup and a cerebral agenda.
http://www.vimeo.com/49244470
“Everything I do is a reaction to being categorized: as a person of color, as a female-bodied queer,” she said. “It’s really bad right now, because it’s so hip to be black, “urban culture” is being fetishized to an enormous extent. I feel I encounter so much that makes me angry just existing in this world as a queer creature. My performance and look ties everything to my experience through my body. That’s where I express myself most fluidly, more acutely and vividly than through language.”
“Horror is where I’m coming from and where I exist,” Vain Hein, another performer, told me. Unlike Boy Child and Dia Dear, Vain Hein is open about his past: raised as a Born Again Christian in both Puget Sound and Phoenix, Arizona — “My childhood consisted of traveling between extremes” — he eventually found his way to the San Francisco Art Institute to study New Genres (this is actually a program there!) Vain Hein, who also performs to music he chops and screws at home, most explicitly ties sex to horror in his work — it’s chockful of surprise lactations, menstrual blood, live births, prosthetic triple breasts, and weird asses.
VAIN HEIN (Photo by Eric Harvieux)
“I think a lot about the apocalypse, it’s how I filter and understand the world. Decay, destruction — everything I wear is just what’s at hand around my house, held together with scotch tape and nail glue, the shitty, shitty, shittest things ever that just fall apart during the night, even when I’m not performing. I literally shed my skin.”
Yet even as a queer art student in San Francisco, liberated from fundamentalism, he never went out until last year. “I just had preconceived notions about what going to a gay club involved. Then my friend dragged me to a drag show in the spring, and I was like, ‘I can do this.’ I had studied mostly performance art and video so it was a good fit.”
Being a young queer and not going to the clubs is incomprehensible to me — but of course these 20-somethings grew up with the Internet, where you can be gay by yourself, and which looms like a Poltergeist vortex over their work.
“Oh, the vast blessing of the Internet,” boychild half-laughs. “I wish I was better at it. We’re so bombarded with information and images, just so much shit. That can be great because my generation has all of the past available. But we’ve been drowning in this stream of complete crap, too. I can define myself as a freaky-freak just by how I navigate it. But the power of live performance is channeling all that into immediate emotion, a moment when everyone’s together, something that can’t and should never be documented as just images.”
The charming and soft-spoken Dia Dear, who has become kind of a mother the nascent phantasmic drag scene — even though she, like boychild and Vain Hein, operates mostly outside traditional drag house family structures — says, “I haven’t quite figured out my relationship to the Internet. I feel like it’s a positive tool because it can connect us to the spirit of people who are dead. But it’s also this kind of dark rectangle in the corner that can suck out all your energy. It exists for its own sake. But to be on the Internet now, you have to have a certain level of narcissism and self-interest. A lot like you have to have as a performer. Performance and the Internet should be natural lovers, in a sense. Twisted together …entwined.”
DISQUIET NIGHT
This live experimental music concert at the Luggage Store Gallery is the brainchild of one of the brainiest yet approachable people I know, Marc Weidenbaum, who started his fascinating daily music site, Disquiet.com, 15 years ago — way before blogs were invented. His project Disquiet Junto challenges Soundcloud members to respond to a prompt with unique compositions. This round: field recordings of Hurricane Sandy, with Cullen Miller, Subnaught, Jared Smith, and more.
Over the past year we’ve been treated to some tasty South African contemporary dance music flavor, from Black Coffee to Die Antewoord. (Somebody please get the Tshetsha Boys out here!) DJ Dee-toy, of Sebokeng Township continues this great microtrend with deep, deep house vibes and off-your-seat Afrofunk jams.
Fri/7, 10pm-4am, $15–$20. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. afrofunk.eventbrite.com
GIGAMESH
Yeah, yeah, the phenomenally successful Minneapolitan remixes pop hits into slick little machines of hummable electro-disco bliss. He is also very, very fun.
Fri/7, 10pm-3am, $15–$20. Monarch, 101 Sixth St., SF. www.monarchsf.com
TORMENTA TROPICAL 5-YEAR ANNIVERSARY
This monthly party launched the nu-cumbia sound in SF, splashing some much-needed Latin electronica onto our shores, while introducing global bass to a new generation of underground-minded clubgoers. Some major players have stomped the floor here, and quite a few sonic permutations of TT’s sound have found more mainstream success — but founders Shawn Reynaldo and oro11, who brought their inspiration directly from Argentina, are keeping it crazy and real with a marathon tag-team set in celebration.
Sat/8, 10pm, $5 before 10pm, $10 after. Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. www.elbo.com
ACCIDENTAL BEAR!
Gay people won’t stop rapping and blogging, and that’s OK! Our favorite local blogger (and perpetual crush) Mike “Accidental Bear” Enders covers way too much ground online. Now the super-enthusiastic cutie is celebrating two years of cybergossip by hosting a cartoon-colored gay rapstravaganza with Big Dipper, Rica Shay, and MC Crumbsnatcher, plus singer Tim Carr and DJs Medic and Dav-O of Double Duchess. There’ll be a lot of cute gay guys with beards.
Writer, drinker, arts-minded political activist, and bon vivant Hiya Swanhuyser is combining her interests in this neato, monthly, potentially wonderfully absurd thingie. Come to the Makeout Room, grab a drink, and then bang out a letter to any politician you have beef with. “One letter = 100 votes,” she says. Cocktails and truth to power, yasss. She’ll bring the actual, clickety-clackety typewriters! You bring the drink-fueled rage!
SUPER EGO If, by some miracle, I manage to make it through this entire column about a new gay sports bar in the Castro without dropping a single awful double entendre, then I totally deserve a Stanley cup, a Heisman trophy, and a Super Bowl ring. IMPOSSIBLE! Why does everything jocky sound so dirty when you sprinkle a little fairy dust on it?
“Well, our barbacks will be wearing jockstraps pretty frequently,” Jesse Woodward told me of new venture Hi Tops (2247 Market, SF. www.hitopssf.com), set to launch with a big free shindig Sat/1, 6pm-2am.* Woodward, who’s opening Hi Tops with former QBar manager Dana Gleim and Matt Kajiwara, knows the value of a good double-wordplay: “Cold pitchers, hot catchers” is his bar’s motto, and a handmade Buster Posey dreamcatcher recently adorned its Facebook page.
But other than a few ironic touches (“No, we won’t be playing that Huey Lewis Sports album,” the painfully lithe and hip Woodward assures me), Hi Tops will be all about the gayme: 15 screens, including a video wall and hanging Jumbotron configuration will pump out local tourneys, while the kitchen, headed by former Top Chef contestant Jamie Lauren, turns out gourmet takes on “stadium food,” including warm pretzels, chicken wings, beef-bacon burgers, Cobb salads, and pork chops on a stick.
“The pork chop on a stick is a pork chop we put on a stick,” Woodward clarifies.
No worries about this being an overcompensative no fats no femmes dude-bro move: Woodward, who’s no stranger to underground alternaqueer dancefloors, merely wants to complement SF nightlife with some unique flavor. “What inspired me to do this was the lack of any place to go with my teammates after a basketball game where we could hang out and talk, but not have to shout over music. I also think that, looking at the Castro, the neighborhood could use something like this to make it exciting. A lot of bars offering something different have closed, and the scene here has become really one note.” Yes, Jesse, and that one note is Rihanna shrieking at us through her tiny, alien nose.
Hi Tops takes the place of fuschia-tinted hetero barf puddle Lime, where I used to go through purses. Anything would be an improvement, but a totally gay (and lesbian!) sports bar that plans to sponsor local queer teams and host fundraisers sounds pretty neato. Plus, barbacks in jockstraps hello. This place will totally be my new Hooters.
MOODYMANN
I haven’t always fallen for his post-modern, Scion-sponsored Blaxploitation schtick — skinny white DJs in Europe still think it buys them instant street cred to sample him; annoyingly they’re often right. But Kenny Dixon Jr., known to the world as the mercurial Moodymann, sure knows how to pump out the classics, foretelling the current wave of re-edit mania by about a decade and representing the Detroit house scene with a soulful flair for experiment and a thrilling rage against the obstacles that still stand in the way of international recognition for many African American dance music artists. He’s a talker on the decks and often anarchic: last time he was here, he got bounced from his own party. Buckle up and work it out, finally some danger. With UK deep techno martialist Untold and the Icee Hot crew.
Fri/30, 9:30pm-late, $20 advance. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com
TIN MAN
Are you even ready for Finnish acid? Of course you are: Tin Man’s hypnotic, energetic yet urbane tracks have been staples on quality dance floors for well-nigh half a decade. Johannes Auvinen was actually raised in Cali, thus the extra bit of sunshine peaking out of his peaks and polishing his deeps. On 222 Hyde’s great soundsystem, he should have the basement walls swaying in no time for his SF debut.
House purists took a moment to warm to Dyed: he seemed to leap fully formed from the Paris club scene and land too perfectly near the top of the Ibiza favorites list. But in the past few years, he’s delivered some incredibly lovely and historically-eared mixes and remixes (many coproduced or inspired by the European scene’s exceptional female cohort) that have everyone convinced. He’s the real deal. And so smiley!
Sat/1, 9pm-4am, $10 advance. Monarch, 101 Sixth St., SF. www.monarchsf.com
THROWBACK
Um, in case you missed it, 90s house is back. But rarely do we get a chance to hear the story of that interesting and incredibly varied decade from the San Francisco DJs and producers who made it all happen. (When Doc Martin plays a retro set here, it’s a main event.) So having Fred Everything, David Harness, Jay-J, Solar, and Jayvi Velasco hit the decks on Mighty’s big-room rave-worthy system, for free, all night long is an education no young neophyte should pass up.
How much does SF adore this British-Italian disco mage, 1/4 of the wildly popular Horse Meat Disco crew? Find out in a sweat on Honey Soundsystem’s dancefloor as he tours in support of a new compilation of his favorite tracks (including some local faves) on Classic Records. Love!
SUPER EGO What’s the biggest, actually good DJ gig you can think of? Festivals, of course: Glastonbury, Sonar, Mutek, those insane-looking events inside that arena in Amsterdam with the indoor fireworks.
But how about being able to drop some serious soul classics for a crowd of 80,000 at a party that will go down in history, one being broadcast on pretty much every TV station in the world? Right about the time Shalamar’s “Second Time Around” ignited a field of tiny waving flags and old school hustle at Chicago’s McCormick Place on the night of Nov. 6, I and many others were blasting out tweets like producer Mark Ronson’s: “Seriously, who is DJing OBAMA HQ? incredible. Teena Marie, MAZE etc….every global news station is blastin’ Frankie Crocker classics.”
The legendary DJ Frankie Crocker rode a white stallion into Studio 54 in the 1970s. On TV in 2012, DJ Mel (www.djmel.com) was soundtracking Obama’s ride into a second presidential term. And Mel wasn’t holding back on the sexy slow jams and up-to-the-minute re-edits, either, waybacking a gloriously colorful Chi-Town crowd — and some teary-eyed people watching at home, anxiously awaiting election results while retracing some old school dance steps. (When it comes to politics, I apply my nightlife philosophy: why stop at two parties when you can have seven? Still, to see and hear the “real America” that I grew up with put forth to the world was something else.) As for the Romney party, sad trombone: left with only the rights to Kid Rock and Toby Keith, they chose to just blast Fox News instead, honk honk.
“This sounds ridiculous, but I really didn’t realize the enormity of what was actually happening until I got home and watched the whole thing on YouTube. I’m still wrapping my head around it,” DJ Mel told me on the phone a couple days after the election from his home in Austin. (Mel’s friend, supercute local DJ Jeffrey Tice, had hooked us up for an interview.) “For me, I had to focus on it like it was a regular gig: get my accommodations and travel set, which they took care of, check my equipment, get to the venue on time, be a professional. I did get kind of an idea of everything once we did the soundcheck in this huge venue, and then when the crowd was piling in. But I was too busy concentrating on keeping the vibe going.
“I mean, the pressure was on, too — if I played a bad song, it wouldn’t just clear the dance floor, it would actually reflect on the President of the United States,” Mel laughed.
“There was one moment of revelation, though. When the results were announced, I was jumping up and down. I was nervous he would lose — in the beginning I thought, ‘Woah, this isn’t looking good, and the recount may go on for weeks.’ But then they said he won. And there I was with the entire world’s press corps behind me …. and no idea what I was going to play. I looked down at my computer and thought, ‘this song is awesome.’ It was the Beatles’ ‘Twist and Shout.’
“As soon as that song came on, the production guys around me started breaking into these huge grins. Then this ginormous, incredibly diverse crowd went bananas, singing along. That was a really special moment for me. There I was in Chicago, recreating this iconic moment from Ferris Bueller. I took a look around and thought, ‘ho-lee … this is kind of huge.'”
The rest of the playlist that night was mostly Mel’s own. “They gave me a list of 30 or so songs, but I went through them pretty quickly and dove into my own playlist of songs I love, that I thought were uplifting and fun. I didn’t prepare at all, just went with my instincts to turn this thing into a party. You’ve gotta just pick songs that are relevant to the event and trust what you’ve got.”
OK, so here’s a question: What would Mel have played if Obama had lost? “Oh man, I didn’t even want to think or ask about that!”
The young Mel, one of the most down-to-earth DJs I’ve ever spoken with, has plenty of experience and has already experienced a couple cycles of fame, with gigs at Lollapalooza (a clip he posted of the crowd from 2009 makes me giddy with joy), Austin’s ACL fest, and several world tours. “I’ve been through every phase of music, from crazy industrial and acid house to indie rock and freestyle, so I’m confident enough to know I can move the crowd in different situations. But I was traveling so much, I just got tired of touring, of not knowing anyone personally where I was playing. So I kind of dialed back.”
That dialing back took the unexpected turn of becoming the house DJ for huge Democratic Party events — first the California convention earlier this year in Sacramento, then the national convention in Charlotte, and now this (no word yet on inauguration dance floor plans, however.) “I have a friend who’s really involved in the planning who hooked me up,” Mel told me. “I think they realized that the music was becoming a big aspect of these events, especially when there so much waiting around for things to happen, or moments in-between to fill. It’s a good way to keep things going and relate to people.”
He may have to dial it back up now, though. “There was zero cell phone coverage in the venue at all, because it was overloaded. But as soon as I got out, my phone literally exploded with texts and notifications. My Twitter count jumped a couple 1000. I think people were genuinely shocked that it was an actual DJ at the event. I think beyond what came to me from it, this was a major thing for DJing in general. Turning an event like this into a party, that’s kind of a big deal.”
SUPER EGO OK, first of all, there is now the first all-night whipped cream supply delivery service in the world right here in SF — the evocatively named Hippie Gap. “We do NOT condone ANY MISS use [sic] of our products!!!” says the About. “Whip-it! Original N2O” it then goes on, before linking to the Wikipedia entry for nitrous oxide. 10pm-10am, y’all. The best parts of rave may have been the stroboscopic aneurysms (and the bisexual Smart Drinks vendors): when the nitrous tank arrived the carnival truly began. But I’ll really sit up if someone bikes a gasmask greased with Vick’s VapoRub to my stoop. Screw your Backstreet Boys crap, that’s when the ’90s really will be back.
Also, right now there is a gang of kick-ass, stiletto-heeled Estonian girls in Miami getting vulnerable rich businessmen drunk at “Russian-style” bars and tricking them into buy extravagantly tacky things like Dom Perignon and boatloads of caviar. They are known as the B-Girls and they grifted one poor slob out of $48,000. They are kind of my girl-gang heroes? Well, right after Pussy Riot, Foxfire, Steel Magnolias, the Mi Vida Loca cholas, and the Sisterhood of the Transgender Pants.
MAYA JANE COLES
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShMAgi_d77w
Young Brit phenom has been on an unstoppable tear the past few years, and while the hype has cooled somewhat, the skills have stayed white hot. Jazz-eared, soulful tech-house and killer bass augmentation swing wonderfully wide across a variety of moods, and always hit the spot. With local favorites Moniker and Brian Bejarano.
Ethereal Philly street bass hero bangs the floor out with his futuristic swoops and sticky-starlight arpeggios — get a preview of new album Orbits, dropping in December, at new beats ‘n bass party Sway. Soulful fellow bass-face Kastle, of San Francisco and awfully good looking, dubs it up to open.
A sweet night of thoughtful techno that doesn’t shy away from rippling drum and bass ecstasy from this grown-up veteran of the UK hardcore scene. Local smarties Ghosts on Tape, Bells and Whistles, and Mossmoss jumpstart the sophisticated, super-danceable aural vibes at the monthly As You Like It party.
Fri/9, 10pm-late, $10–$20. Beatbox, 314 11th St., SF. www.ayli-sf.com
MOUNT KIMBIE
A lineup to make cerebral bassheads’ hearts go boom. Transcendent UK duo Mount Kimbie aren’t afraid to take you off the rails and down a winding trail with their live sets. Gorgeous Floridian tech-dubber XXYYXX also appears, with SF electronic dreamer Giraffage (“Feels” is one of my fave 2012 tracks), D33J, Dials, and the Lights Down Low nutters.
Fri/9, 10pm-3am, $17–$20. 103 Harriet, SF. www.1015.com
RAREBITS
One of the cutest little secrets of nightlife music nerds has been this wildly eclectic night of, well, rare bits of sonic loveliness and genius off-kilter projections, put on by three cute bearish guys and tucked away in gay bar Truck. For this anniversary free-for-all, they’ve invited 16 DJs (including residents Chicken, Bearno Kardashian, and Bobby Please) to spin 20-minute sets of yummy, weird stuff. Plus there’ll be pop-up food from Two Tarts and a Stove. Delish.
If you’ve just moved here from another planet, or know a friend who really needs to catch up, witnessing classic DJ Garth take the decks for a fabuloso marathon five-and-a-half hour set in the Public Works loft — well, that’s the perfect crash course in 20 years of San Francisco dance music.
His titillatingly wicked blend of psychedelic rock, cosmic disco, acid house, and pagan grooves will have you howling at the moon right quickly, friend.
Sat/10, 10pm-3:30am, $7. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com
NON-STOP BHANGRA DIWALI CELEBRATION
Meanwhile, downstairs at Public Works, one of my favorite monthly parties celebrates the Indian festival of lights, Diwali, with a bhangra-riffic blowout, with the dholrythms dancers, live dhol drummers, and DJs Jimmy Love, rav-E, Santero, and Harvi Bhachu. It all kicks off with a seriously great bhangra flashmob and procession at 16th Street and Valencia at 9pm. Bring a light and let it shine!
Sat/10, 9pm-3am, $10–$15. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com
SUPER EGO “I had a cosmic experience back in January on the beach in Tulum, Mexico where I drew energy from the Moon which filled my entire body with a sensational electricity,” beloved LA-based Brit tech-house playboy and Crosstown Rebels label honcho Damian Lazarus wrote me recently. (Yes, I love my job.)
“My friends advised me that the universe was telling me something. Most people would have seen it as an opportunity to change their ways, be a better man, etc… I took it to mean I was supposed to create a 24-hour festival just up the road in Playa del Carmen to celebrate the end of the Mayan calendar and the birth of the new chapter of our lives. I feel that we as a generation of party people could do with something to latch on to at this point, something simple that can affect us for the better. The alignment of the planets during Day Zero is a perfect opportunity for us to look at ourselves, share this moment with each other, dance, laugh, and love together.”
Hey, if you’re going to help turn the eternal page — and/or be immolated in an annhilistic fireball of doom marking an insane galactic event and the completion of the final 25,625-year-long cycle in the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar — you might as well be dancing around a pyramid of Mayan ruins on a Mexican beach at Day Zero (December 20-21, www.dayzerofestival.com). The vast and killer lineup includes some tasty big names and personal favorites like Maayan Nidam, Subb-An, Trentemøller, 3D from Massive Attack, James Lavelle, and Matias Aguayo.
Plus, yay, there will be an entire stage of Mexican electronic artists I would absolutely love getting more acquainted with, including Damian Uzabiaga, Damian Romero (a lot of Damians at the end of the world, apparently), Rebolledo, Guada, Regina, and Muan. Lots of art and yoga and love among the hummocks, too. “Magnificent opening and closing ceremonies,” Lazarus promises. Oh, and the surrounding community as well as Shamanic families from the Hiucholes tribes have been invited to participate, so it’s not just a bunch of foreigners trashing a native site for kicks I hope.
Why am I pumping a festival in Mexico in December? I’ve been far too worried about squeakers like who’s gonna win this stupid election, or if my East Coast friends will be Sandied off the planet, or whether my neighborhood will be set alight by fellow citizens protesting wealth disparity assholes from the suburbs rioting over a baseball game we won to give a second thought to which high-quality consciousness-raisers I’ll be smuggling into the apocalypse. Maybe I just want to get away, if it’s the last thing I do. Will it be the last thing I do?
“I’m around 50 percent certain the world will not end,” Lazarus says, his glass half full. “If it is going to, I’d like to play the last record.” Please let that record be “The Ketchup Song,” Damian.
KOOL KEITH
Dr. Octagonecologyst is back, as NYC’s multidimensional rap perv touches down at this appropriately psycho-sleazy affair, with fellow XXX MC Blowfly. I’m wringing out my cerebral panties already. With A-1, Joe Mousepad, Bogl, Ryury, Rhyme Book Mosaic.
Thu/1, 10pm, $15–$20, 18+. Yoshi’s SF, 1330 Fillmore, SF. www.yoshis.com
DJ HARVEY
The Sarcastic Disco legend is truly one of the great English eccentrics, mixing a punk rock attitude with rare groove and warehouse classics that send his massive following over the moon. He has some deep San Francisco connections, especially with our own crew of pagan Brit crazies, the Wicked crew. Some major energy right here.
Fri/2, 10pm-3:30am, $10–$15. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com
GO BANG
All the best parties at Deco Lounge are fleeing in the face of new ownership — which gives me a major sad, since I love that glowing Tenderloin afterhours hotspot. The warmest, loveliest disco monthly in the city, Go Bang, has now banged out to the Stud. I’m willing to bet it stays brilliantly mixed and vibrant, with DJs Sergio and Steve Fabus at the helm, though.
Tech-soul of the extra groovy and stylish variety from German duo Matthias Reiling and Hauke Freer, which comes with driving beats and quite a few shiver-inducing cuts and live samples that reveal the depth of their “staying up all night researching house music” aesthetic.
Sat/3, 9pm-4:30am, $10–$13. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com
TIMMY REGISFORD
The real deal in soulful house is the wonderfully diverse monthly Mighty Real parties at, yes, Mighty — and you know the spirits above will reflect on the dancefloor when NYC’s glorious Timmy Regisford of the Shelter polishes the decks. With fab DJ David Harness (happy birthday, baby!)
Fantastic — and fantastically fun — turntablist is back, with his “12-bit blues” Vinyl Vaudeville tour, which sounds like a hoot. Using old school sampling tools and a bit of analogue magic, he’s set to take us back to the good ol’ days of all this hip-hop dance music stuff. With Adira Amram and the experience.
Sun/4, doors 8:30pm, 9pm, $20. Independent, 628 Divisadero, SF. www.independentsf.com
DEATHFACE
Hardcore rave in 2012: thy name is Deathface, and thine origin is Brooklyn. A perfect capper to your two-week Halloween bender, the duo spaz out gabber-style with horror movie effects and post-banger freaking. Some of it’s a little precious, but still worth your fist-pump.
Mon/5, 9pm, $10–$12. Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. www.elbo.com
First of all, what the heck are you gonna be for Halloweeeeen?
I’m vacillating between being these amazing but creepy speakers made of artificial muscles — so many of my interests intersecting? — and DJ Paris Hilton (I’ll just stand there like a stunned gazelle with one headphone, and have someone pop up from under my minidress to fiddle with a mixer). In any case, let’s all agree that this can be our Halloween–costume-choosing retro kiki house theme song:
Second, I screwed up someting major in my Super Ego column in the paper this week: The wonderful Odyssey party is actually on FRIDAY (not Saturday as your wasted columnist stupidly put forth — hey at least I’m cute in the dark!) Come and spank me on the dancefloor, loves, it’s gonna be a great one.
Beautifully hypnotic global-tribal, jazzy-deep house from the spiritual master — he’ll be at another installment of Marques Wyatt’s Deep parties, IMHO the most excitingly diverse experiences in SF.
It’s time to re-up your degree in the teaches of Peaches. Berlin’s bad mama-jamma of electroclash performance art is back for a rare appearance, celebrating the 17th anniversary of local art-tech-music powerhouse Blasthaus.
The mindbending deep techno entity known as Rrose obliterated pretty much everyone when she played here at Public Works several months ago — c’est la vie! Joining Rrose in the blessedly banging, re-abilified Club Six basement is Sensate Focus, another cerebellum twirler. I’m kind of scared, the good scared.
Sat/20, 10pm-late, $15-$20. Club Six, 101 Sixth St., SF. www.clubsix1.com
He used to live here, now he lives in Berlin — the US is less cute without him 🙁 but he will be bringing his deliciously breezy underground house magic to Honey Soundsystem 🙂
SUPER EGO “We wanted to put together something that truly reflects San Francisco on its most popular holiday,” DJ Syd Gris of Opulent temple tells me over the phone. “A titillating, intoxicating kaleidoscope of San Francisco flavor with soulful, sexy music. And zombie strippers.”
He’s talking about the massive Masquerotica (Sat/20, 8:30pm-3am $55–$125, creative costume expected. San Francisco Concourse Exhibition Center, 635 8th St., SF. www.maquerotica.com ), a perfect kick-off to the insane Halloween season, which pretty much does include frisky input from most of the more risquee club scenes SF’s got going — Kink.com, Anon Salon, Mission Control, Vau de Vire, Hubba Hubba Revue, Bondage-A-Go-Go, Asian Diva Girls, Club Exotica … and then for kicks, Trannyshack. Hey, different strokes! Please have sex with Trannyshack if you want.
There also promises to be some intriguing tunes, from electro-house headliners Stanton Warriors and 15-piece funk band Action Jackson right on through to the early R&B Hard French DJs and hard-driving Mr. Gris himself. (We’ll also probably be hearing from a lot from gay rapper Cazwell’s alabaster abs as well. Squee squee!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hyO9D3t0jVM
“The demise of the Exotic Erotic Ball here a few years ago provided an opportunity to put the focus back on local talent while still keeping the sexy vibe. We’d like to think that we’re sanding off some of the rougher edges of what the Erotic Exotic and the Castro became, so that people feel more comfortable being themselves. Or getting out of themselves. Whatever the case may be.”
Although there’s no hardcore sex allowed at Masquerotica (no fear, there’ll be plenty of makeout areas), why do San Franciscans weave so much hanky-panky into our pagan revels? Or did I just answer my own question?
“Halloween is partly about being able to express yourself in ways that don’t involve judgement, and so a lot of subcultural communities found acceptance during the holiday,” Gris said. “We want to honor that. We’re a big tent, and we want to fill it with all the people and things that turn us on in the Bay Area.”
MOVE D
I have a scary-powerful crush on this wizard of wide-ranging techno, whose epic sets with live bells and whistles are painterly in their soundscape effects and irresistible in their atmospheres. You can dance to them, too. With DJs Conor, Jonah Sharp, and Mike B.
Thu/18, 9pm-3am, $12–$15. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com
REAGENZ
Oh hey, did I mention that the amazing Move D was in town from Berlin? Why not take advantage of that, and his fruitful collaboration with local hero Jonah Sharp, and present them both in their ambitious ambient live-entity form, Reagenz. Tech heads like me are already wetting their drawers for this installment of the Realtime live techno party, also featuring Moniker, Polk & Hyde, and Its Own Infinite Flower.
One of the city’s most beloved underground parties emerges to celebrate its anniversary, with SF legend DJ Neon Leon at the helm. Expect tons of warm house tunes and love up the wazoo (plus some nifty projections, too!) With DJs Steve Fabus, Robin Simmons, Jason Kendig, Robert Jeffrey, and Viv Baron.
Fri/19, 10pm-4am, $10. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.public.com
HALLOWEEN! THE BALLAD OF MICHELE MYERS
What do you get when you mashup all your favorite teenage slasher flicks with The Facts of Life? Grindr! Kidding. You get this horrifically hilarious musical brought to us by one of SF’s most twisted drag queens, Raya Light. As glamour-ghoul Michele Myers, she’s gonna tear you apart to a disco beat. And you’ll be singing right along.
Fri/19-Wed/31, 8pm and 10pm, $20. CounterPulse, 1310 Mission, SF. michelemyers2012.eventbrite.com
DEATH BECOMES HER
You know you live for that campfest movie — wherein Goldie Hawn eats Meryl Streep while Bruce Willis drives away with Freeway the Dog? Something like that, but also the Fountain of Youth and Isabella Rossellini in something really strappy. Anyway, Peaches Christ is giving the 1992 flick, which introduced many of us toddlers to the wonders of CGI, the inimitable uproarious Castro Theatre treatment. Heklina of Trannyshack joins her for a wild live pre-show, with Lady Bear, L. Ron Hubby, and the city’s drag-erati.
SUPER EGO Warm and fuzzy-edged highlights of the past week or so: dancing to ’80s hip-house pioneer Tyree Cooper in the apse of St. John the Evangelist church in the Mission last Sunday, yes the actual church, where many a rave was thrown in the ’90s. Watching Amon Tobin melt faces with his stacked-cube digital-mapping projection stage show at Berkeley’s Greek Theatre (but first, some hot mama threw her bra onstage for openers Kronos Quartet!) Also: did Amon really drop a trap track? Eek.
My ears and feet are still pounding from the very astounding, very LOUD Body & Soul party at Mighty on Saturday — how did those genius DJs manage to turn Stevie Wonder’s “As” inside out? And my brain is still pounding from the amazing homemade sljivovica DJ Zeljko was passing around (imported from his wedding in Serbia to gorgeous bellydancer Jill Parker) at his insanely fun Kafana Balkan party, one of the best in the city (www.facebook.com/kafana.balkan). There were many, many other stops along the way — happy birthday, drag legend Glamamore — but who the hell can remember, and do we really care that much about the past? Contemporize, ladies, contemporize.
PS This is the eighth anniversary of your dear Super Ego. In 2004, I was writing about the nascent disco revival, the first wave of minimal techno, and dressing up in a giant black Glad Bag to go to Folsom Street Fair because I couldn’t afford any leather. And look at me now! I’m practically leather myself. Jerky.
Let’s mooove on. Two new clubs, both in the baby-step stage: OMG! in the old Anu space (43 Sixth St., SF. www.clubomgsf.com) aims to be the first gay-straight mixed Bollywood club in SF. Love it, and also that it comes from some of the peeps who run the Trikone queer Indian organization. Just please don’t ever make me type OMG! again. Slate (2925 16th St., SF. www.slate-sf.com) is the new name of SOM: new management, too. Looks like all the same great parties are still happening there, for now, but they’ve added a pool table and want to get more lounge-y. I’ll pack my fluffy platypus slippers and snifter of Brandy Alexander.
POOLSIDE
“Great friends, good music, California, and mezcal” is the motto of this perfectly talented duo, one of whom is SF DJ Jeffrey Paradise, whom I adore. They’re kicking off their tour (with evocative tech-pop dreamer Com Truise) in support of new album Pacific Standard Time, a breezy blast of acid-inflected loveliness that will make you take your top down. It’s all beachy-keen, and who can argue with any of that?
If you missed essential Detroit techno (now based in Tokyo) DJ Claude Young mixing records at Honey Soundsystem with his tongue, I can’t help you. But I can recommend seeing him pair up live with Takashi Nakajima for a live set under the name Different World (www.differentworld.jp) full of tasty edits and new tunes. Wanna get caught up on what underground Japan sounds like? Here’s your chance, tongue and all.
Gorgeous soulful house from Nkosinathi Maphumulo, Durban-born South African, who brings intricate percussion, glistening piano and bass lines, and deep feeling to his compositions and remixes. He’ll be playing with LA’s prince of deep house, Marques Wyatt, on Mighty’ mighty soundsystem, delicious.
The wee Hot Spot bar in Market has become quite an, er, hotspot since the always adventurous DJ Bus Station John started throwing parties there. (DJ BSJ is notorious for opening up holes in the wall for cute scruffy gay men on the make, after all.) His latest lovely shindig, Love Will Fix It, “an R&B party for the soul,” has filled the space with funkier sounds of approximately 1977-1983, Ashford and Simpson to Zapp — and a whole lot of sweaty boys who would rather die than tweeze their eyebrows into little red flags of soulless desperation — for a year now, and this anniversary edition surely won’t disappoint.
Sat/13, 10pm, $7. Hot Spot, 1414 Market, SF.
JAMIE XX AND JOHN TALABOT
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rhALivFYQY
Public Works is bringing in a killer lineup, including excellent UK bass wizard Jamie XX, fresh from his Treasure Island with his band the xx (he’s the one without the hopelessly English underbite). But wait! You also get my favorite dance musicmaker this year, Spaniard John Talabot, shining his ecstatic Balaeric house sunshine into our hectic nightlives. Icee Hot party DJs Rollie Fingers, Shawn Reynaldo, and Ghosts on Tape freak up the proceedings. Grooviness!
MUSIC “We’ve done the ISAM show in venues as big as the Sydney Opera House and as small as a local rock venue, but we’re basically holding our breaths every time. Someone could plug in their iPhone charger and blow the whole thing. In Coachella, the act on the field opposite had the idea of turning on floodlights for half their set, which washed us out for a good part with the ambient light.”
Brazilian electronic music legend Amon Tobin is on the phone, recounting some of the mundane worries that come with operating one of the most brilliant stage concepts in years, ISAM Live. The show is a marvel of cutting-edge technology that bathes a towering tetrominal assemblage of stacked cubes in digital projections, while — like the pilot of a Tetris spaceship, clad in his trademark baseball cap, hoodie, and jeans, ensconced in one of the glowing cubes — Tobin performs tracks from ISAM, his seventh studio album, and several other sonic treats. The tour is now in its second, completely revamped conceptual leg, ISAM Live 2.0, coming to Berkeley’s Greek Theatre on Fri/5. Tobin promises that ISAM 2.0 is “totally different … not connected to the album as much at all” from the first version, which played at the Warfield last year. Perhaps he’ll be wearing a spacesuit this time, too:
The visual illusions conjured up by Tobin and collaborators and mapped on the sculpture, made real with the help of a crack team of production designers headed up by Alex Lazarus of local art-tech collective Blasthaus, recall everything from early 20th century Constructivist art and colorform animation to tomorrow’s Xbox 360 game. Some of the effects are absolutely lovely, as when the structure “shatters” to crystalline pieces or a flood of winged creatures take flight across the stage. Some are vertigo-inducing, as when the whole thing acts as a flight simulator, or a slightly different version of the structure is projected onto the structure itself, and then begins revolving: meta! It’s all a sort of hyperreal 3-D, as shapeshifting as Tobin’s ever-elegant and booming compositions. (The music on ISAM itself is typical technopoetic Tobin — what makes the album standout is really how much the rest of the music world has caught up to his signature style, which contains elements of moody ambient, classic drum and bass, squonky electro, and crunchy dubstep without ever falling wholly into any of those genres.)
“What drove me to this idea was trying to find my way around the universal problem of presenting electronic music,” Tobin told me. “How do I make an engaging experience out of an album when I’m really just pushing buttons and twisting dials — it’s what we all do as electronic musicians. I don’t make dance music — I don’t think I even can — so the challenge becomes the concert presentation. And then the unusual situation becomes how to integrate myself into the proceedings. I didn’t just want to go out there and hang about.”
The waving hands and bobbing heads at the Warfield last year may prove that “I don’t make dance music” remark incorrect, but the show certainly succeeds at bridging the rapt audience vs. some arty dude’s knob-twisting divide. Tobin’s projects have lately been as much about technological expression as producing music — although one could argue, especially in his case, that these are one and the same at this point in history. Previous album Foley Room was a mosaic of found sounds recorded on the street (“from neighbours singing in the bath to ants eating grass”), that was accompanied by a gorgeous interactive website called “Field Recording” that featured morphological subaquatic creatures and a night-goggle feel.
This time around, Tobin’s technological adventurousness is helping to pique new interests. The crowd at the Warfield was not composed of the typical intelligent dance music, underground glitch, and scruffy turntablism fans I know from previous Amon Tobin shows. Rather, the “oohs,” “aahs,” and “this is fucking amazings” were coming from what looked to be a distinctly tech crowd. With Industrial Light and Magic, Pixar, and countless other digital animation studios located in the Bay Area, is ISAM Live introducing a new wave on enthusiasts to somewhat challenging electronic music through geek-candy visual technology?
“Well, electronic music is inherently tech-y to begin with,” Tobin says, “but even when I was just starting out, I was never interested in scenes. I’m too wrapped up in what I’m trying to do. I’m just hoping people will be into it, no matter who they are or how they got there.”
Tobin’s known for being laidback almost to the point of reclusivity, and his recent relocation to the Bay Area — “I live a little north of San Francisco, in the middle of the woods: I can walk around or go for a drive and do what I like” — has helped contribute to to both his secluded genius image and access to tech opportunity. Once he had the inspiration for ISAM Live, it wasn’t like he put an ad out on Craisglist to find designers, he told me. But a serendipitous encounter with Lazarus and the ease of putting together an adventurous, California-based design team got things going pretty easily. It’s also helped him firm up connections with local musicians he admires like SF’s Kronos Quartet, who were featured on Foley Room and will open for his concert at the Greek, and incredible live-sample collagist Eskmo, who opened for him early in the ISAM tour.
But the mind of Amon Tobin is ever-restless, and ISAM has been around for more than as year — despite the 2.0 relaunch, our conversation perks up when we begin to talk about his new release as Two Fingers called Stunt Rhythms, a beats and bass album that also belies his claim not to make dance music.
“Stunt Rhythms is a tribute to the amazing electro and breakdance music that actually saved me, growing up in a shitty town called Hastings in England. Things like Cybotron’s ‘Clear’ or Man Parrish, JVC Force’s ‘Strong Island.’ My relationship to that sound is so deep. It’s music that keeps me pushing for something further off, pushing me through drum and bass, and making my own persona.
“It’s working my way toward that thing just over the horizon that keeps me going.”
