Arts & Culture

Arts & Culture

Music Listings

Andrew Lam
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WEDNESDAY 16

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Cake Fillmore. 8pm, $36.50.

Dum Dum Girls, Minks, Dirty Beaches Bottom of the Hill. 9pm, $12.

Miguel Independent. 8pm, $20.

Newfangled Wasteland, Dead Winter Carpenters Café Du Nord. 9pm, $10.

Pryor Baird and the Deacons Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $15.

Angie Stone Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8 and 10pm, $45.

Stymie and the Pimp Jones Love Orchestra, Selector DJ Kirk Elbo Room. 9pm, $8.

Sunbeam Rd., Spiro Agnew, Red Blue Yellow Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $6.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Cat’s Corner with Christine and Nathan Savanna Jazz. 7:30pm, $5.

Dink Dink Dink, Gaucho, Michael Abraham Amnesia. 7pm, free.

Ben Marcato and the Mondo Combo Top of the Mark. 7:30pm, $10.

Michael Parsons Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St, SF; (415) 642-0474. 8:30pm, free.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 8pm, $35.

DANCE CLUBS

Booty Call Q-Bar, 456 Castro, SF; www.bootycallwednesdays.com. 9pm. Juanita Moore hosts this dance party, featuring DJ Robot Hustle.

Hands Down! Bar on Church. 9pm, free. With DJs Claksaarb, Mykill, and guests spinning indie, electro, house, and bangers.

Jam Fresh Wednesdays Vessel, 85 Campton, SF; (415) 433-8585. 9:30pm, free. With DJs Slick D, Chris Clouse, Rich Era, Don Lynch, and more spinning top40, mashups, hip hop, and remixes. Mary-Go-Round Lookout, 3600 16th St, SF; (415) 431-0306. 10pm, $5. A weekly drag show with hosts Cookie Dough, Pollo Del Mar, and Suppositori Spelling.

No Room For Squares Som., 2925 16th St, SF; (415) 558-8521. 6-10pm, free. DJ Afrodite Shake spins jazz for happy hour.

Respect Wednesdays End Up. 10pm, $5. Rotating DJs Daddy Rolo, Young Fyah, Irie Dole, I-Vier, Sake One, Serg, and more spinning reggae, dancehall, roots, lovers rock, and mash ups.

Synchronize Il Pirata, 2007 16th St, SF; (415) 626-2626. 10pm, free. Psychedelic dance music with DJs Helios, Gatto Matto, Psy Lotus, Intergalactoid, and guests.

THURSDAY 17

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Cake Fillmore. 8pm, $36.50.

Dogpatch Retox Lounge. 9pm.

*Eluveitie, 3 Inches of Blood, Holy Grail, System Divide Slim’s. 7:30pm, $20.

Everest, Carl Broemel, Infantree Hotel Utah. 9pm, $10.

Gift of Gab, Lance Herbstrong Independent. 9pm, $17.

Manzanita, Sporting Life, Bleached Palms Red Devil Lounge. 8pm, $6.

Popa Chubby Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $20.

Spandex Tiger, Disastroid, Fever Charm Bottom of the Hill. 9pm, $8.

Angie Stone Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8 and 10pm, $45.

21st Century, LadyCop, Yearling El Rio. 8pm, $3.

Twilight Singers Amoeba, 1855 Haight, SF; www.amoeba.com. 6pm.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Derek Smith Latin Jazz Band and Andres Speight’s SFSU student bands Savanna Jazz. 7:30pm, $5.

Stompy Jones Top of the Mark. 7:30pm, $10.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 8pm, $40.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTRY

Shareef Ali and the Radical Folksonomy Grant and Green. 9pm, free.

Just Desserts Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St, SF; (415) 642-0474. 8:30pm, free.

Leif Karlstrom and Jordan Klein Atlas Café. 8pm, free.

Whisky Richards, Misisipi Rider, Lady A and Her Heel Draggers, West Nile Ramblers Café Du Nord. 8:30pm, $15. Part of the San Francisco Bluegrass and Old Time Festival.

DANCE CLUBS

Afrolicious Elbo Room. 9:30pm, $7. DJs Pleasuremaker and Señor Oz spin Afrobeat, tropicália, electro, samba, and funk and guests Afromassive and DJ Mr. Chatman.

Caribbean Connection Little Baobab, 3388 19th St, SF; (415) 643-3558. 10pm, $3. DJ Stevie B and guests spin reggae, soca, zouk, reggaetón, and more.

Club Jammies Edinburgh Castle. 10pm, free. DJs EBERrad and White Mice spinning reggae, punk, dub, and post punk.

Drop the Pressure Underground SF. 6-10pm, free. Electro, house, and datafunk highlight this weekly happy hour.

Guilty Pleasures Gestalt, 3159 16th St, SF; (415) 560-0137. 9:30pm, free. DJ TophZilla, Rob Metal, DJ Stef, and Disco-D spin punk, metal, electro-funk, and 80s.

Jivin’ Dirty Disco Butter, 354 11th St., SF; (415) 863-5964. 8pm, free. With DJs spinning disco, funk, and classics.

Mestiza Bollywood Café, 3376 19th St, SF; (415) 970-0362. 10pm, free. Showcasing progressive Latin and global beats with DJ Juan Data.

Nightvision Harlot, 46 Minna, SF; (415) 777-1077. 9:30pm, $10. DJs Danny Daze, Franky Boissy, and more spinning house, electro, hip hop, funk, and more.

1984 Mighty. 9pm, $2. The long-running New Wave and 80s party has a new venue, featuring video DJs Mark Andrus, Don Lynch, and celebrity guests.

Peaches Skylark, 10pm, free. With an all female DJ line up featuring Deeandroid, Lady Fingaz, That Girl, and Umami spinning hip hop.

Popscene Rickshaw Stop. 9pm, $10. Emerging artist showcase with Eulogies and Mother Mother, plus DJ Aaron Axelsen.

FRIDAY 18

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Beach House Fillmore. 9pm, $22.50.

Estranged, Spectres, Young Offenders, Airfix Kits El Rio. 10pm, $7.

Rick Estrin and the Nightcats Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $20.

Mark Growden, Seth Ford Young Brava Theater, 2781 24th St, SF; www.brava.org. 8pm, $20-50.

K-Ci and JoJo Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8 and 10pm, $35.

Lloyd’s Garage, Blackstone Heist, Whiskey Pills Fiasco Café Du Nord. 9:30pm, $10.

Monkey, Gogo 13, Chase Long Beach, Skank Agents, MC Tazy Phyllipz Bottom of the Hill. 8:30pm, $12.

Mustache Harbor, Sean Tabor Band, Oceanroyal Slim’s. 9pm, $13.

Real Nasty, Buxter Hoot’n, Steve Pile Band Hotel Utah. 9pm, $8.

Star Fucking Hipsters, Static Thought Thee Parkside. 9pm, $8.

Stockholm Syndrome Independent. 9pm, $22.

“Streep Tease: An Evening of Meryl Street Monologue and Song” Great American Music Hall. 8pm, $25. All-male cast including Shawn Ryan, Bruce Vilanch, and more.

Ana Tijoux, Yung Mars Project, DJ C-Funk Elbo Room. 10pm, $10.

Wild Thing, Culo, School Jerks Hemlock Tavern. 9:30pm, $6.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Benn Bacot Savanna Jazz. 7:30pm, $8.

Black Market Jazz Orchestra Top of the Mark. 9pm, $10.

Emily Anne’s Delights Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St, SF; (415) 642-0474. 9pm, free.

Messenjah Selah, Woven Roots, Seed N Soil Blue Macaw, 2565 Mission, SF; www.thebluemacawsf.com. 9pm, $10-15.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 8pm, $45.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTRY

Boombox, Boctok-Zapad, DJ Stranger Café Cocomo. 8pm, $38.

Earl Brothers, Henhouse Prowlers, BrownChicken BrownCow Plough and Stars. 9pm, $10-15. Part of the San Francisco Bluegrass and Old Time Festival.

DANCE CLUBS

Afro Bao Little Baobab, 3388 19th St, SF; (415) 643-3558. 10pm, $5. Afro and world music with rotating DJs including Stepwise, Steve, Claude, Santero, and Elembe.

Bart B More, Nisus Rickshaw Stop. 9pm, $12.50.

Dirty Rotten Dance Party Madrone Art Bar. 9pm, $5. With DJs Morale, Kap10 Harris, and Shane King spinning electro, bootybass, crunk, swampy breaks, hyphy, rap, and party classics.

Exhale, Fridays Project One Gallery, 251 Rhode Island, SF; (415) 465-2129. 5pm, $5. Happy hour with art, fine food, and music with Vin Sol, King Most, DJ Centipede, and Shane King.

Fubar Fridays Butter, 354 11th St., SF; (415) 863-5964. 6pm, $5. With DJs spinning retro mashup remixes.

Good Life Fridays Apartment 24, 440 Broadway, SF; (415) 989-3434. 10pm, $10. With DJ Brian spinning hip hop, mashups, and top 40.

Hot Chocolate Milk. 9pm, $5. With DJs Big Fat Frog, Chardmo, DuseRock, and more spinning old and new school funk.

Radioactivity 222 Hyde, SF; (415) 440-0222. 6pm. Synth sounds of the cold war era.

Rockabilly Fridays Jay N Bee Club, 2736 20th St, SF; (415) 824-4190. 9pm, free. With DJs Rockin’ Raul, Oakie Oran, Sergio Iglesias, and Tanoa “Samoa Boy” spinning 50s and 60s Doo Wop, Rockabilly, Bop, Jive, and more.

Some Thing Stud. 10pm, $7. VivvyAnne Forevermore, Glamamore, and DJ Down-E give you fierce drag shows and afterhours dancing.

Trannyshack Stevie Nicks Tribute DNA Lounge. 9:30pm, $15. Heklina, Anna Conda, and more pay tribute to the Gold Dust Woman.

Vintage Orson, 508 Fourth St, SF; (415) 777-1508. 5:30-11pm, free. DJ TophOne and guest spin jazzy beats for cocktalians.

SATURDAY 19

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Scott H. Biram, Ralph White, Shovelman Bottom of the Hill. 10pm, $12.

Clorox Girls, Midnite Snaxxx, Cigarette Burns, Mermaid Bones Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $7.

Con Brio Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St, SF; (415) 642-0474. 9pm, free.

Gang of Four, Hollerado Fillmore. 9pm, $32.50.

Gliss, Here Come the Saviours, Spyrals El Rio. 9pm, $8.

Mark Growden, Seth Ford Young Brava Theater, 2781 24th St, SF; www.brava.org. 8pm, $20-50.

Jackie Payne Band Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $20.

Keeping Score, Five Fingers of Death Thee Parkside. 2pm, free.

Todd Snider, Elizabeth Cook Great American Music Hall. 9pm, $21.

Stockholm Syndrome Independent. 9pm, $22.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Robert Gastelum Amnesia. 7pm.

Gina Harris and Torbie Phillips Savanna Jazz. 7:30pm, $8.

Ronnie Laws Quartet Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8 and 10pm, $16-25.

Tom Shaw Trio with Sheelagh Murphy Martuni’s, Four Valencia, SF; www.dragatmartunis.com. 7pm.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 8pm, $45.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTRY

Foghorn Stringband, Knuckle Knockers Swedish American Hall (upstairs from Café Du Nord). 8pm, $15. Square dance extravaganza with caller Bill Martin. Part of the San Francisco Bluegrass and Old Time Festival.

Forro Brazuca Red Poppy Art House. 8pm, $10-15.

Whitney Nichole, Leftcoastspecial Cajun Band El Rio. 6pm, free.

Pine Box Boys, Old Man Markley, Kemo Sabe, Hang Jones Café Du Nord. 8:30pm, $15. Part of the San Francisco Bluegrass and Old Time Festival.

Craig Ventresco and Meredith Axelrod Atlas Café. 4pm, free.

DANCE CLUBS

Afro Bao Little Baobab, 3388 19th St, SF; (415) 643-3558. 10pm, $5. Afro and world music with rotating DJs including Stepwise, Steve, Claude, Santero, and Elembe.

Bar on Church 9pm. Rotating DJs Foxxee, Joseph Lee, Zhaldee, Mark Andrus, and Nuxx.

Blowoff Slim’s. 10pm, $15. With host-DJs Bob Mould and Rich Morel.

Bootie SF: The Evolution Control Committee DNA Lounge. 9pm, $6-12. Mash-ups.

Cock Fight Underground SF. 9pm, $7. Gay locker room antics galore with electro-spinning DJ Earworm, MyKill, and Dcnstrct.

Fringe Madrone Art Bar. 9pm, $5. Indie music video dance party with DJs Blondie and subOctave.

Full House Gravity, 3505 Scott, SF; (415) 776-1928. 9pm, $10. With DJs Roost Uno and Pony P spinning dirty hip hop.

Industry Factory, 525 Harrison, SF; www.industrysf.com. 10pm, $40. With Ralphi Rosario and Abel.

Non Stop Bhangra Rickshaw Stop. 9pm, $15. Bhangra beats with the Dholrhythms Dance Troupe.

Rock City Butter, 354 11th St., SF; (415) 863-5964. 6pm, $5 after 10pm. With DJs spinning party rock.

Saturday Night Soul Party Elbo Room. 10pm-2am, $5. DJs Lucky, Paul Paul, and Phengren Oswald spin butt-shakin’ ’60s soul on 45.

Spirit Fingers Sessions 330 Ritch. 9pm, free. With DJ Morse Code and live guest performances.

SUNDAY 20

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Arboretum, Endless Boogie, Hiking Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $8.

Brainbow, Passion Killers, Trip the Light Fantastic El Rio. 6pm, $5.

Trace Bundy Café Du Nord. 8pm, $18.

Frustrators, Phenomenauts, Kepi Ghouli Band, Bryan McPherson, Bobby Joe Ebola and the Children McNuggets Rickshaw Stop. 8pm, $12.

Richard Cheese and Lounge Against the Machine Bimbo’s 365 Club. 9pm, $39-60.

Marijuana Deathsquads, Skoal Kodiak, Slapping Purses Bottom of the Hill. 9pm, $12.

Tad Worku Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8:30pm, $20.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Dan Berg Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St, SF; (415) 642-0474. 8pm, free.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 7pm, $40.

Savanna Jazz Trio and jam session Savanna Jazz. 7:30pm, $5.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTRY

Highway Robbers Thee Parkside. 2pm, free.

Peter Rowan Bluegrass Band Slim’s. 8pm, $18. Part of the San Francisco Bluegrass and Old Time Festival.

DANCE CLUBS

Call In Sick Skylark. 9pm, free. DJs Animal and I Will spin danceable hip-hop.

DiscoFunk Mashups Cat Club. 10pm, free. House and 70’s music.

Dub Mission Elbo Room. 9pm, $. Dub, roots, and classic dancehall with DJ Sep and guests Habitat Sound featuring Prince Zohar, David Hurley, and Selector Eddir Turbo.

Gloss Sundays Trigger, 2344 Market, SF; (415) 551-CLUB. 7pm. With DJ Hawthorne spinning house, funk, soul, retro, and disco.

Honey Soundsystem Paradise Lounge. 8pm-2am. “Dance floor for dancers – sound system for lovers.” Got that?

Kick It Bar on Church. 9pm. Hip-hop with DJ Zax.

La Pachanga Blue Macaw, 2565 Mission, SF; www.thebluemacawsf.com. 6pm, $10. Salsa dance party with live Afro-Cuban salsa bands.

Play T-Dance: Pajama Party DNA Lounge. 5pm, $35. With DJ Steve Sherwood and DJ Sean Mac.

Religion Bar on Church. 3pm. With DJ Nikita.

Swing Out Sundays Rock-It Room. 7pm, free (dance lessons $15). DJ BeBop Burnie spins 20s through 50s swing, jive, and more.

MONDAY 21

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Big Sam’s Funky Nation Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8pm, $15.

*Man or Astro-Man? Independent. 9pm, $15.

DANCE CLUBS

Death Guild DNA Lounge. 9:30pm, $3-5. Gothic, industrial, and synthpop with Joe Radio, Decay, and Melting Girl.

Krazy Mondays Beauty Bar. 10pm, free. With DJs Ant-1, $ir-Tipp, Ruby Red I, Lo, and Gelo spinning hip hop.

M.O.M. Madrone Art Bar. 6pm, free. With DJ Gordo Cabeza and guests playing all Motown every Monday.

Manic Mondays Bar on Church. 9pm. Drink 80-cent cosmos with Djs Mark Andrus and Dangerous Dan.

Network Mondays Azul Lounge, One Tillman Pl, SF; www.inhousetalent.com. 9pm, $5. Hip-hop, R&B, and spoken word open mic, plus featured performers.

Sausage Party Rosamunde Sausage Grill, 2832 Mission, SF; (415) 970-9015. 6:30-9:30pm, free. DJ Dandy Dixon spins vintage rock, R&B, global beats, funk, and disco at this happy hour sausage-shack gig.

Skylarking Skylark. 10pm, free. With resident DJs I & I Vibration, Beatnok, and Mr. Lucky and weekly guest DJs.

TUESDAY 22

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Awol One and Factor, Ceschi, Cars and Trains, Kirby Dominant, Megabusive Elbo Room. 9pm, $10.

Drift, CJ Boyd, High Wolf Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $6.

Justin Townes Earle Great American Music Hall. 8pm, $17.

Brandon Leonard and the Nobodys, Palafox El Rio. 7pm, free.

Lydia Pense and Cold Blood Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8pm, $20.

Trampled Under Foot Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $20. Rocky Votolato, Laura Gibson, Piss Pissedofferson Bottom of the Hill. 9pm, $14. JAZZ/NEW MUSIC Graham Connah Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St, SF; (415) 642-0474. 8:30pm, free. Ricardo Scales Top of the Mark. 6:30pm, $5. DANCE CLUBS Alcoholocaust Presents Argus Lounge. 9pm, free. “Stump the Wizard” interactive DJ game with DJ the Wizard and DJ What’s His Fuck. Eclectic Company Skylark, 9pm, free. DJs Tones and Jaybee spin old school hip hop, bass, dub, glitch, and electro. Extra Classic DJ Night Little Baobab, 3388 19th St, SF; www.bissapbaobab.com. 10pm. Dub, roots, rockers, and reggae from the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Share the Love Trigger, 2344 Market, SF; (415) 551-CLUB. 5pm, free. With DJ Pam Hubbuck spinning house. Womanizer Bar on Church. 9pm. With DJ Nuxx

Music listings are compiled by Cheryl Eddy. Since club life is unpredictable, it’s a good idea to call ahead to confirm bookings and hours. Prices are listed when provided to us. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com. For further information on how to submit items for the listings, see Picks.

To the bone

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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To the bone

DANCE/MUSIC There are a lot of interesting things in Brontez Purnell’s room. Giant self-made posters of Josephine Baker (“The most famous black party kid ever,” he says), Arthur Evans’ Witchcraft and the Gay Counterculture, and the legendary Harlem Renaissance publication Fire!!. An arrangement of Polaroid Instamatic nude shots of old flames and interview subjects from his zine, Fag School. A few more Instamatic shots – of him and his mom and grandmother. A framed letter from Kathleen Hanna. An autographed copy of the Go-Go’s’ Talk Show. A typewriter. Effects pedals. On a window ledge, a CD by his uncle, the late blues guitarist J.J. Malone. On his bed, a well-worn paperback of Lady Sings the Blues, next to a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pillow. But the most interesting presence in the room is Brontez himself.

“I grew up with a strong Southern Baptist influence,” Brontez says, when I ask about the role of ritual in his dance projects. “These days I’m not as likely to disregard what that did to me and how it set my way of thinking about the world into motion. I talk to my mom, who is a devout Christian and also totally wild-ass, every day. But for the first 15 years of my life, I was at a place where, every Sunday, the most conservative people could scream their heads off. It wasn’t pretentious, it was to the bone. It’s part of the reason I’ve never had trouble dancing at [rock] shows or getting into the energy of the moment.”

Long before Brontez burned up the stage as a key member of Gravy Train!!!!, he was the talk of the Bay Area rock scene because of his uninhibited energy. “Sometimes, in Gravy Train!!!!, or especially when I was younger, people would sexualize me in this way that was weird to me,” he recalls. “I just felt like I was being more punk than sexy. Sometimes I’d jump in the crowd and people would finger me, or rip off my underwear, and I was put off or taken aback. I felt like I was this baby with whiplash.”

No longer a baby with whiplash, the Brontez of today is still punk rock, but also well-read – and a dancer. This Friday, he’s debuting a trio of live dance pieces, and a trio of dance films (The Beats are Falling Down, Itxel, and Free Jazz) made with Gary Gregerson, as part of a Berkeley Art Museum program curated by Betty Nguyen. Shot in black-and-white and kindred in spirit with works by Yvonne Rainer (“Her ideas about task-oriented choreography, and choreography that deals with the everyday, are so fact-based,” he says), the movies are a natural extension from the dynamic dance video that Irwin Swirnoff made for “Sha-Boo Lee,” by Brontez’s band, Younger Lovers. They’ve got an electric charge — they’re inspiring.

“What I like about Gary [Gregerson] and Irwin [Swirnoff] is that there is always a sense of naturalness with them,” says Brontez. “In the Bay Area, there can be this cult of clutter – everyone has their Cockette thing going, and everything has to be splattered with glitter and fuzzy purple rhinestones. With the art I make, there isn’t a lot of high concept and high camp going on. I’m literally trying to tell a story that I want to let breathe. Both Gary and Irwin are respectful of that.”

This directness is present in Rock Flawless (Bachelor), the latest Younger Lovers album, which features contributions from Bare Wires’ Matthew Melton and drummer Taaji Malik (who is also present in Gregerson’s films), as well as bandmate Mateo Corona. Recorded next door to Aunt Charlie’s Lounge at a studio on the corner of Turk and Taylor in SF, Rock Flawless trades the vagaries of romance for the truth. “When I wrote about a boy on [2008’s] Newest Romantic, it was ‘la la la’ and flowery, but on Rock Flawless I’ll write about a specific boy, in a specific neighborhood – like the Lower Haight – that fucked me over.”

Brontez also throws in a killer cover, of “Heartbroken,” by T2 featuring Jodie Aysha. He’s typically candid about its inspiration. “I first heard [the song] during this Adam4Adam trick,” he says. “I went to this guy’s house and he was a total freak. He had this way-too-close relationship with his dog. I hugged him and the dog ran off the bed and he said, ‘She hates when you take my energy away like that.’ We were fucking and he had on his Pandora and that song came on, and I was like, ‘What is this? This is what’s up!’”

What’s up for Brontez today? For starters, his neighborhood in West Oakland, where warehouse spaces like Sugar Mountain, Ghost Town, and Copland are putting on shows. “On the weekend, you see so many white kids it’s like Woodstock,” he laughs. “What’s happening here isn’t going on in San Francisco. But during the weekdays, you see the nice cars that drive by to get heroin and crack, and the regular neighborhood people.”  

What’s also going on is a strong dedication to making things happen, and making dance. “My biological clock is ticking, ticking, going ‘What have you done, girl?’,” Brontez jokes. “It’s nice to sit around waiting on boys to love you, but in the meantime…” In the meantime, he’s reading up on Rainer, Katherine Dunham, and Martha Graham. He’s watching AXIS Dance Company rehearsals. He’s drawing on his studies with choreographers Eric Kupers and Nina Haft. He’s getting set to act with Jesse Hewit and others in a film by Travis Mathews. He’s leading dance workshops. And he’s giving any “fucking squares” in dance a loving “a kick in the ass,” flyering shows punk rock-style, and choreographing pieces involving witch dancers and preachers, with titles like Whenever I Hit the Floor, I’m Like a Fucking Hurricane.

“Thank god I also read a lot of rock ‘n’ roll autobiographies,” Brontez says. “Because all of my favorite artists say the same thing: ‘They did not love me enough.’ This year, I’m going to find out who my brothers and sisters are, so we can start doing shows together.”

L@TE FRIDAY NIGHTS AT BAM/PFA: BRONTEZ WITH BRILLIANT COLORS
7:30 p.m. (DJ Myles Cooper at 6:30 p.m.), $7
Berkeley Art Museum, Gallery B
2626 Bancroft, Berk.
(510) 642-0808

bampfa.berkeley.edu

Commercial, free

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Commercial, free

MUSIC For a band with some of the horniest lyrics around, the members of Los Amigos Invisibles have remained remarkably faithful to one another. They’ve been together since the early 1990s, when they were teenagers rebelling against the goth- and rock-dominated Caracas music scene. It was then that these six amigos set out to make music with one purpose: to make people lose their shit on the dance floor. And 20 years later, they show no signs of being tardy for the party. We caught up with the group’s guitarist and main songwriter, Jose Luis Pardo, just after both he and Los Amigos Invisibles had released new albums.

SFBG A few weeks ago you guys released the seventh Los Amigos Invisibles studio album, Not So Commercial (Nacional Records), which is a follow-up to 2009’s Latin Grammy-winning Commercial.

JOSE LUIS PARDO/DJ AFRO Yeah it’s like a spin-off. Our intention with Commercial was to create an accessible pop album. But at the end we had all these extra tracks that were more trippy and not so pop. So we brought the idea of putting out an EP to Nacional Records and they were totally into it.

SFBG Did you have any clue when Los Amigos Invisibles first got together that it would be this kind of journey?

JLP Absolutely not. We were just having fun. But this year we’re turning 20, which is a miracle!

SFBG It’s almost unheard of that a band would stick together for that long and not take a break somewhere along the line.

JLP I know, I know, it’s crazy. We love it! But we’re old now, we don’t have that much hair anymore …

SFBG You still have a lot of hair, you’re DJ Afro after all!

JLP Ha, that’s right! We still love playing together. We don’t take it for granted. We were just an underground band in Caracas when David Byrne found us. After he put us on Luaka Bop we started touring the states. Our first plan was to move to San Francisco. But because the label was in New York City, we moved there and it’s been great. That was 2001, so we’ve been in the States for 10 years. We like it here!

SFBG And NYC’s winter isn’t cramping your tropical style?

JLP Not really. We go home to Venezuela on the holidays to get our beach fix.

SFBG Since you’re the principal songwriter of Los Amigos Invisibles, Julio Briceño (Los Amigos’s lead singer) has been your de facto muse for the past 20 years. He’s got that amazing machismo shtick when he’s performing. Just curious, is that a persona he takes on for the stage? Is it like his “Sasha Fierce,” or is that just who he is?

JLP It’s a little bit of both. He’s got a lot of charisma, but it’s kind of weird when people approach him off-stage because he can be shy and reserved too.

SFBG It must feel like you’re married to him because you’ve been together for so long …

JLP Exactly. We haven’t cheated on each other.

SFBG But just a few days ago you released your first solo album, Free (Nacional Records), where you worked with several other singers …

JLP Well, yes, Julio’s been my friend and my brother for all these years. So it was a challenge to write for new people. It was a totally new experience. But getting out of my element was awesome. Right after we finished Commercial I wanted to keep recording. Before that I’d always done remixes and a lot of work on the Los Amigos albums, but the thought of doing my own album never crossed my mind. I don’t like being the front man of anything. I like being part of a group.

LOS AMIGOS INVISIBLES

With Trombone Shorty and Orleans Avenue

Fri/11, 9 p.m.; $25–$35

The Fillmore

1805 Geary, SF

(415) 346-3000

www.thefillmore.com

Valley of the (killer) dolls

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Valley of the (killer) dolls

CHUCKY CHEESE It’s hard not to fall in love with Jennifer Tilly. Star of hits big (1997’s Liar Liar) and cult (1996’s Bound), she’s an Oscar-nominated (for 1994’s Bullets Over Broadway) actor who also happens to be a champion poker player. Though she specializes in dim-bulb sexpots, Tilly is no dummy — witness her hilarious turn in 2004’s Seed of Chucky. In addition to providing the voice for killer doll Tiffany (whom she also portrayed in 1998’s Bride of Chucky) she also plays “Jennifer Tilly,” a character who kinda but not really resembles the real Jennifer Tilly.

Seed of Chucky, directed by Child’s Play series creator Don Mancini, is the most gleefully campy Chucky film to date (John Waters cameo!) San Francisco’s favorite horror hostess, Peaches Christ, is bringing Tilly and Mancini to town for a special pre-Valentine’s Day screening. What better excuse to talk with Chucky’s main squeeze?

SFBG Are you excited about the Seed of Chucky event with Peaches Christ?

Jennifer Tilly We are so thrilled to be getting the Peaches Christ treatment. We loved the trailer — Don Mancini was like, “Oh my God, this is so exciting!” He’s the one who created the Chucky series. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but over the years the franchise has just gotten more and more warped, and I really think the true spirit of Don Mancini is starting to come through.

SFBG I remember the first few Child’s Play movies did actually try to be scary.

JT A lot of people say that they were so scared when they saw the first Chucky movies that they couldn’t have any dolls around. But by now, everybody knows what Chucky is about. When we did Bride of Chucky, I think, there’s a line where somebody goes, “Oh my God, Chucky isn’t even scary. He’s so ’80s.” So when Don did Seed of Chucky, he just decided to go to town with it. Don just kind of got free reign to do whatever he wanted — though the studio did give him some notes when they got the first draft. They said, “It’s too funny. It’s too gay. And there’s too much Jennifer Tilly.” When he told me that, I thought, “How could there be too much Jennifer Tilly”? (Laughs.)

SFBG Did you have a hand in creating the “Jennifer Tilly” character?

JT After Bride of Chucky, Don became one of my very best friends. When he said I was going to play myself in Seed of Chucky, I said, “Oh, you have to make me an over-the-hill, horrible, obnoxious diva.” The studio was saying, “She’s too unlikable. She’s the protagonist, she should be likeable!” They didn’t understand that we were sort of deconstructing the genre. But a lot of the lines that were in the movie, I actually came up with — like when Tiffany is dragging Jennifer Tilly’s unconscious body, she goes, “Fuck, she’s fat!” Which was something I just ad-libbed. There were a lot of lines about how my career was in the toilet, like the famous line “I’m an Oscar nominee, and now I’m fucking a puppet!” The only thing Don had me do that I didn’t want to do was throw up in my purse. But I’m a pro. (Laughs.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FqtxZUvu4lQ

SFBG I heard that Don Mancini is planning a return-to-scary remake of Child’s Play (1988). Are you involved in that?

JT There are a lot of rumors — they definitely have the go-ahead to make the next Chucky movie, and I think that was one of the ideas. The other idea was to continue the Seed of Chucky story, because people really like the character of (Chucky’s child) Glen-Glenda. I honestly think we’ve come too far to turn back now. (Laughs.) I think the idea behind the remake is that we have so many more special effects, so you could do it so much more realistically. But I don’t think a good horror movie is about having the most brilliant special effects. It’s in the writing and the presentation and the acting.

Also, I just think the direction that Chucky is going — I’ve made over 60 movies, but everywhere I go, the No. 1 movie that people know me from is Bride of Chucky. I go to foreign countries where they don’t know any English at all, and they point at me and yell “Bride of Chucky!” And Don conceived Seed of Chucky as being a cross between Sunset Boulevard (1950) and Ordinary People (1980) — it’s not just a slasher film. There’s something for everybody!

WHEN CHUCKY MEETS PEACHES CHRIST

Sat/12, 8 p.m., $20

Victoria Theatre

2961 16th St., SF

www.peacheschrist.com

 

Psychic Dream Astrology

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Feb. 9-15

ARIES

March 21-April 19

Things are changing of their own volition — but if you step up and take an active role in the process, you’ll definitely prefer your outcomes. Let go of attachments that bind you, even if you are scared.

TAURUS

April 20-May 20

Soupy emotions and worried thinking threaten to screw up everything for you, pal. Pull “what if?” out of your thinking. Take responsibility for your present and plot your next steps based on your hopes, not your fears.

GEMINI

May 21-June 21

Take care of No. 1, Twin Star! Anxiety and insecurity may inspire you to take on more than you can handle and then freak you out. If you have no room in your heart take a pause; less is more this week.

CANCER

June 22-July 22

Trying to make someone else feel something about you or a situation is a dubious enterprise (at best). Allow situations to unfold in their own sweet time, and take charge of what’s right for you along the way.

LEO

July 23-Aug. 22

You’re in a great place to make your ideals come alive, Leo. Invest all you’ve got in relationships this week, and make sure to speak your mind in as honestly and directly as you know how. Choose love, not fear.

VIRGO

Aug. 23-Sept. 22

Things have to play out and there is nothing you can do about it. Tend to the inner machinations of your heart as you struggle with what you don’t know, and be sure to communicate about what you can, as you can.

LIBRA

Sept. 23-Oct. 22

It’s high time you learned a new way of engaging with the people you are close to, Libra. You are at the end of a situation that’s been stuck, and you alone can change it. Align with your emotional integrity and act from that place.

SCORPIO

Oct. 23-Nov. 21

This is an excellent time to sit back and figure out how you got where you are. Reflecting on the past will help you to set clear boundaries in the now that promote happiness — and you deserve a slice of happy, Scorpio!

SAGITTARIUS

Nov. 22-Dec. 21

No matter what you’re feeling, don’t repress your emotions. Find places you can bring your realness to, or carve out a little alone time. Go for authentic instead of perky, even if it’s socially inconvenient.

CAPRICORN

Dec. 22-Jan. 19

Reach out to loved ones without loosing self-possession. Take emotional risks in the name of happiness and be bold and courageous as you do so.! Rise to the challenge of emotional bonds as a strong individual.

AQUARIUS

Jan. 20-Feb. 18

Pushing yourself to be somewhere you’re not will only confuse you and worsen matters. No matter how much you want to, you simply don’t know the future. Focus on how you feel now and fortify that.

PISCES

Feb. 19-March 20

You have some major choices about what to invest in. Keep your heart wide open and fearlessly choose to let something new to enter your life. Breathe energy into your connections with others this week.

Jessica Lanyadoo has been a psychic dreamer for 16 years. Check out her website at www.lovelanyadoo.com or contact her for an astrology or intuitive reading at (415) 336-8354 or dreamyastrology@gmail.com.

Flipping out

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Flipping out

Dear Readers:

I get a lot of press releases and ignore them unless they’re for books, kid stuff, or sex toys. But I have been remiss on one count: I have not solicited any samples of sex stuff aimed at men. There is something inherently humorous about fucking an inanimate object (see Portnoy, Alexander and Pie, American) that simply doesn’t seem to apply to the dainty art of buzzing yourself to glory . Object-humping is not dignified.

So I owe men’s sex toys an apology and sent away for something. What arrived was essentially a featureless white cylinder with some recessed white buttons. Very classy. It’s called a “Flip Hole.” Uh, maybe a little less so. Do you want to fuck a flip-hole?

I don’t know anyone who does but I might know someone willing to try it. On the first go, my reviewer gave it about a B, and admitted, modestly, that it seemed to run “a tad small.” And the tight fit caused some of the lining to squish out the front in a disconcerting manner. On later investigation I was impressed with the internal topography, a ribbed-and-bumpy silicone sleeve the texture that maps very creditably to my own mental impression of what the inside of a vagina ought to look like, if was clear more jellylike. The company, Japanese fancy sex-stuff outfit Tenga, did its research. And also implies in its materials that it’s supposed to be that tight. It is called, rather baldly, an “ultratight masturbator.”

So the Flip Hole, ickily named or not, is well-designed and functional. It is easy to clean, which is what all the flipping is about; the sides wing open to give full cleaning access, avoiding the “squishy can full of jizz” impression given by earlier generations of men’s toys. It’s so tidy looking and hygienic that it hardly seems sexy, but when it comes to things you are supposed to stick your one and only precious into, you could do worse than well-designed and hygienic. And I will avoid rude jokes about those adjectives not applying to perhaps the majority of partners picked up in haste at the end of a drunken evening.

Does the thing have any downsides, besides the price, which is, to be fair, standard for boutiquey sex toys? Yes. Although the business end is made of silicone, we quickly noted a lingering industrial solvent scent, like a freshly opened cheap vinyl shower curtain that clung to the object and to anything inserted therein, as well as our hands and everything we touched, requiring showers and extra tooth brushing to get rid of. A long shower just for the Hole, followed by a nice air bath, only just began to diminish the pong. I’m pretty sure extended exposure to sunlight would help, but as deepest city dwellers we are at a loss to find a place to air it out not visible to passersby or accessible to children. So it stinks like the plasticy-est of plastic things, and I can’t recommend that part unless you have yourself some very serious Barbie fantasies. In which case, have at it.

Love,

Andrea

Got a question about sex? Email Andrea at andrea@mail.altsexcolumn.com

Flush with tips

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Flush with tips

culture@sfbg.com

CULTURE I floated drunkenly into the second-story bathroom at 1015 Folsom. It’s a tiny affair, and my head was just enough obscured to make navigating past the waiting bodies a sure difficulty. I did my business and realized that the man that I had squeezed by, near the sink, wasn’t another patron, but some sort of bathroom attendant. In my inebriated state, it appeared to be an elaborate joke.

He was Latino, wearing a nice suit, and stood in the narrow space between the sink and one of the three urinals, his back against the middle pissoir. He had a mountain of curiosities piled over the sink, and a towel for drying hands draped over one arm.

“Have you worked here long?” I asked.

He shook his head. No. Just a little while.

“Do you keep your tips?”

No. He shook his head again, indicating that there was some sort of split. Reluctantly using the towel, I thanked him and dropped a Washington into the tip jar.

Somewhere, after more French techno, I drifted off to sleep. When I awoke, I wondered, had that really happened? Had I dreamt it? Had I hallucinated?

I sent 1015 Folsom an e-mail inquiring about the attendant. Apparently it was true. Barnaby May, who describes himself as a seven-year veteran of the nightclub scene, took credit for the hookup. He felt that something was lacking from 1015, that it would be better to have a bathroom attendant than not. He put me in contact with Shaun Fausz, who runs a company called Refreshus, which trains and supplies bathroom attendants.

According to Fausz, the service is tailored to appeal to a lackluster economy: it costs the clubs nothing. “Clubs would rather have a free service than have to repaint every few months and replace a trashed sink,” Fausz says. Which makes good sense in a city where one of the dominant aesthetics of the nightlife is a sort of high-class posturing that can quickly be ruined by a Magic Marker. Other clubs have resorted to taunting taggers. Look how fucked up our bathroom is, the Rickshaw Stop seems to say, what else can you do? Put up another sticker? The Independent has painted its water closets black to nullify vandalism.

Bathroom attendants from Refreshus act as security, whether they’re at a nightclub, like 1015, or at a strip club, like the Century Club, where one of Refeshus’ longest standing employees, Gary Lawton, has worked for nine months. Lawton says it’s “a good public service,” although he never imagined performing it. Positioned in the bathroom, he’s able to monitor illicit behavior. “As you hear the snorting, you know what’s going on and you just let them know that they have to take it outside,” he says. “Or they’ll approach me and ask me if its cool, and I’ll just inform them that it’s zero tolerance, as well as alcohol, because there’s no drinking with full nudity.”

This was news to me. (My Catholic upbringing and feminist programming at university makes it impossible to attend a “gentleman’s club.”) If a club includes full nudity, and not just topless dancing, alcohol is verboten. “Our beloved senator is responsible for that, Dianne Feinstein.” says Lawton. “It doesn’t make any sense — I mean that’s what security is for. If you see someone being belligerent, you just tell them to go get some fresh air or something.”

Lawton, who looks like he could be a bouncer, doesn’t necessarily tell people he’s a bathroom attendant as much as “a member of security, who’s stationed in the bathroom.” But no embarrassment shows when he discusses the details. He loves his work, where he gets to act as liaison, recommending girls to patrons and occasionally getting a peek himself. He gets to meet people from all over, and show them a piece of the world that he never glimpsed before being at the Century. “It’s something I can’t explain,” he says. “You know you’re stuck in the bathroom, and then you see them doing something like ‘School Girl Night.’ It’s wild. Like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s just amazing every time I get out there. They have several girls who actually lift their legs up and climb all the way to the ceiling. It’s like being at the circus, but they’re stripping.”

It’s an experience that, to put it simply, Lawton is generally priced out of, a world where “private dances” can cost upwards of $100. In terms of straightforward class, Lawton has no shortage — he’s a polite man who chooses his words with the precision of someone who makes a living speaking to people — but if we’re talking economics, he’s low on the ladder. Once or twice before meeting me at the Barbary Coast coffee shop off Market Street, Lawton had to drop appointments at the last minute, his housing situation in tumult. Truth is he’s on General Assistance, in the shelter system, and shared tips from a few nights work a week aren’t enough to get over.

The income for a bathroom attendant, the flow of tips, breaks down across class lines as well as cultural ones. In Lawton’s experience, middle- to upper-class white men tip well. With African American or Indian men, he doesn’t count on tips. In some ways, bathroom attendants perform an obsolete service that only older generations know how to handle. (Think of the bathroom attendants at Bimbo’s, and that club’s retro style.)

Fausz has his own observations: “European people don’t tip. They don’t have tipping over in Europe. Women don’t tip as often — they like to let the guys pay for everything when they go out.” To my knowledge, Refreshus doesn’t have female attendants.

While Lawton can’t enforce any specific prices, he sometimes has to step in, politely explaining that the service isn’t complimentary. “Everyone under 32, they’re oblivious,” he says. “They come in and see the candy and go, ‘Oh, it’s free.’ And you have to remind them that, no, this is a service. But you don’t force any prices. Like I’ll have a jar with a $5 bill and I’ll just let them use their own discretion, just remind them that the colognes are usually this amount because it’s expensive and I have to pay for all that. You just make them feel comfortable and let them know that even though it’s complimentary, this is how I make a living. I’m responsible for all this. Because they think the club provides the service.”

A lot of this has to do with exposure. While a number of clubs — Vessel, Harlot, Trigger — reportedly have similar services, bathroom attendants aren’t common. Lawton had never encountered one before landing his job, just seen them on TV, and he describes the position as obsolete. “Each generation wants their own type of representation,” he says. “So naturally anything they think of as obsolete just doesn’t apply to them.” At the same time, Lawton acknowledges that a genuine amount of surprise plays in his favor, and patrons admire that the service is still on offer.

Whether bathroom attendant work at the nightclubs provides enough income is unclear. In a place where people pack singles, like the strip clubs, the tips are expected to flow more freely. That’s fine with Lawton, who doesn’t like the more amphetamine-infused nightclub culture as much, having had close family members ruin their life over addiction.

Fausz has seen turnover, most often when attendants steal or are headhunted by clubs. Some just aren’t a good fit ,or can’t work in the environment, or can’t hold the right amount of conversation. (The attendant I met at the beginning of this piece no longer works for Fausz.) But there are people willing to work for Refreshus wherever the opportunity arises. On a recent night I ran into Russ, a lean fellow in a sharp jacket stationed in the more luxurious main bathroom at 1015 Folsom. He described the job as “a good way to supplement my income,” adding “I’m a personal trainer.”

Fausz wants to fit bathroom attendants into more of the city’s nightclubs, even if an event tends to draw a crowd for whom a bathroom attendant is an obscure novelty. He puts it simply: “I’m kind of training the next generation of people to tip.”

Real fiction

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Real fiction

arts@sfbg.com

DANCE There is a guy in town named Jess Curtis who has the most gorgeous mop of white hair and a smile to match. His body is taut and muscular; it also shows signs of wear from working hard and probably playing hard. Curtis used to be part of the now-legendary Contraband, for a while the most radically inventive dance troupe in the country. Then he and his buddy Keith Hennessy took off for France where the ministry of culture — anybody listening at the NEA? — set up a special, nicely funded section for Circus Arts. This should have made red-blooded Americans recoil in horror. Instead it invigorated the two guys’ ideas about performance and its role in society. Above all, they got in closer touch with their own bodies and how they wanted to use them.

Coming back, Curtis took off for Davis (Hennessy was to follow), the former agricultural college, now a production line for the Bay Area’s starving dancers, who want to acquire (a wee bit of) wealth, wisdom, and perhaps a job in a university. A body-based, anarchical perspective, so integral to the critical theory thriving in academia, also generally opened a universe for dance, which for so long had been intellectually suspect because it had no “text” that could be studied, analyzed, and turned into a dissertation.

For Curtis, a socially committed artist since his Contraband days, who wants his work to at least chip away at the conflicts, prejudices, and histories that divide us, body-focused thinking was a good place to start. The body, after all, is all we have; it’s our home and our hell. As artistic inspiration, the idea is not new. Take one look at Picasso, and you see a patriarchal guy obsessed with the human female body.

Along comes Dances for Non/Fictional Bodies, Jess Curtis/Gravity’s two-hour extravaganza for six artists — Curtis, Claire Cunningham, Matthias Hermann, Jörg Muller, Maria Francesca Scaroni, and Bridge Markland — who keep shifting and revealing new sides of who they are or might be. It’s a fun game to see how new individual “fictional bodies” pop up like corks from what sometimes is a morass of images and information. that in turn fatigue, delight, and surprise. This stripping away and putting on of new identities is often accomplished by changes in attire. (PhD dissertation, anyone?).

Dances lives off the talents of its protean performers. Muller, who under his Red Riding Hood outfit hides a rabbit in his crotch (take that, Freud), levitates so that an object can scoot under his horizontally-stretched body. Curtis passes out philosophical treatises but creates another type of enlightenment by engaging in what amounts to a 20-mile stationary bike ride to illuminate a string of holiday lights. Scaroni dons a fat suit and dumpy clothes yet turns herself into an elegant roller skating virtuoso. She’s also a karaoke singer and, with the help of Mueller, a cross-dresser.

My favorite chameleon, however, was Cunningham, whose dainty feet and delicate fingers use crutches as pincers. For much of the first half, she scoots around like a Roomba, busily rearranging props and — if I saw correctly — audience members. In the end, donning a red boxing outfit and sitting in a bathtub, she reveals herself as a soprano, delivering a respectable Bach aria.

For all its embrace of egalitarianism and plenitude, to the extent that Dances works it is because of the care and shape-shifting craft that these artists imposed on a rich mix of physical props, performance ideas, and individual talents. Like it or not, this is an elite collection of performers. During the post-show discussion, Curtis explained that artist-activist Guillermo Gómez-Peña, who was present, had been helpful with Dances‘ timing. It became quickly evident that Gómez-Peña does not want to be a consultant; he wants to join the circus.

DANCES FOR NON/FICTIONAL BODIES (COMMUNITY CHORUS INSTALLATIONS)

Thu/10, noon–2 p.m.; free

Yerba Buena Gardens

Third and Howard, SF

(415) 978-2787

www.jesscurtisgravity.org

Beige to the bone

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Beige to the bone

arts@sfbg.com

FILM What if The 40 Year Old Virgin (2005) got so Parks and Rec‘d at The Office party that he ended up with a killer Hangover (2009)? What then, huh? Just maybe the morning-after baby would be Cedar Rapids — named for the determinedly downtempo, unpretentious Iowa city where the smell of cooked oats hung in the air and students from nearby Iowa City, like yours truly, communed regularly at the local arena to bang head to big boys like Metallica. Sweet. And likewise director Miguel Arteta (2009’s Youth in Revolt) wrings sweet-natured chuckles from his banal, intensely beige wall-to-wall convention center biosphere, spurring such ponderings as, should John C. Reilly snatch comedy’s real-guy MVP tiara away from Seth Rogen (Reilly would never pull a Green Hornet on us, would he)? Is this the every-bro coming-of-ager that last year’s Due Date wanted to be before stumbling on its own smugness?

Consider Tim Lippe (Ed Helms of The Hangover), the polar opposite of George Clooney’s ultracompetent, complacent ax-wielder in Up in the Air (2009). He’s the naive manchild-cum-corporate wannabe who’s never been on a plane, much less partied with the competition. Lippe never quite graduated from Timmyville into adulthood: he’s banging his seventh-grade teacher (Sigourney Weaver) and still working at the small-town insurance company in Brown Valley, Wis., that took him on as a teenaged file clerk when his mother passed.

So when his insurance company’s star employee perishes in an autoerotic asphyxiation accident, it’s up to Lippe to hold onto his firm’s two-star rating — bestowed on upstanding insurance peddlers with good Christian values — and make its case at an annual convention in Cedar Rapids. Life conspires against him, however, and despite his heartfelt belief in insurance as a heroic profession, Lippe immediately gets sucked into the oh-so-distracting drama — in the form of playful playa Joan (Anne Heche); buttoned-up roommate Ronald, whose sole guilty pleasure seems to be The Wire (Isiah Whitlock Jr. of The Wire); and the dangerously subversive "Deanzie" Ziegler (John C. Reilly), whom our naif is warned against as a no-good poacher.

Temptations lie around every PowerPoint and potato skin: be it bribery in the presidential suite, cream sherry debauchery in the atrium pool, crack pipes at sketched-out farm parties, or hot convention sex. As Deanzie warns Lippe’s Candide, "I’ve got tiger scratches all over my back. If you want to survive in this business, you gotta daaance with the tiger." How do you do that? Cue lewd, boozy undulations — a potbelly lightly bouncing in the air-conditioned breeze. "You’ve got to show him a little teat."

Fortunately Arteta shows us plenty of that, equipped with a script by Wisconsin native Phil Johnston, written for Helms — and the latter does not disappoint. If The Hangover‘s "Dr. Douchebag" didn’t win over comedy fans, then his all-in, affectionate portrayal of a man with a child in his eyes might, even while Reilly threatens to steal the show with his troublemaking party/fire-starter, the sad-eyed life of the office who’s loathed by the boss.

He, too, has a place amid Cedar Rapids‘ stalwart brownness, and face it, the ’10s are shaping up to be pretty darn brown. Camel is chic, wood-grain is the freak, tea parties are geek, and the reality of hum-drum office-park Carell culture has come to look kind of sexy from across a crowded recession, after such widespread unemployment. It follows that the blandest towns become the sites of transformation; the smallest victories for the most conventional of conventioneers, the stuff of authentically feel-good comedy. Cedar Rapids may poke fun at the flyover states, but it pledges allegiance to those denizens’ essential decency.

CEDAR RAPIDS opens Fri/11 in San Francisco.

Rise up and reflect

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Rise up and reflect

arts@sfbg.com

FILM A 10-part anthology film marking the 100th anniversary of the Mexican Revolution, Revolución derives most of its resonance from bits of Mexico’s landscape and cultural identity rather than head-on treatments of the revolution and its ideals.

However, this should only be read as a shortcoming if one approaches the film anticipating overt political or nationalist engagement. Instead, as might be expected from independent-minded, festival-focused directors such as Fernando Eimbcke (2008’s Lake Tahoe) and Carlos Reygadas (2007’s Silent Light), these 10 short films by Mexico’s most recognized directors and actors (Gael García Bernal and Diego Luna coproduced the entire project and directed segments) shape up in unexpected ways.

Taken as a whole, Revolución presents an ordinary, dignified, beautiful Mexico (in contrast to its increasingly violent image, courtesy of sensationalized news reports). Apropos to the diversity of the nation is the diversity of cinematic styles employed.

Patricia Riggen’s Beautiful and Beloved is a heartfelt and comedic story of familial duty leading to a small revelation. When a second-generation immigrant has to sneak the corpse of her father across the border to fulfill his wishes of being buried in Mexico, she is initially resentful. But something in her changes amid the massive funeral procession when she engages with her dad’s garrulous old pal. Beautiful offers one of the more conventional narratives in the film; it also includes the most direct references to the revolution and outlines an easily discernible conflict. Rodrigo García’s 7th and Alvarado, on the other hand, is a dreamlike juxtaposition of ordinary pedestrians and traditional horseback soldiers on the streets of a Hispanic area of Los Angeles.

Similarly, the three segments that portray celebrations in order to consider how the revolution is remembered today are all poignant yet quite distinctive from each other. Eimbcke’s graceful The Welcome Ceremony opens the film on a quiet, observant note by depicting a taciturn tuba player preparing for a concert that never happens. Reygadas’ This is My Kingdom is a vérité-style depiction of raucous outdoor activities that contrasts middle-class enjoyment with the rituals of the homeless who share the space. Rodrigo Pla’s vision, 30/30, may be Revolución‘s most cynical — it explores the dissonance experienced by Mexican Revolutionary general Pancho Villa’s grandson when he is both superficially honored and callously ignored at a centennial event.

REVOLUCIÓN

Thurs/10–Fri/11, 7:30 p.m., $6–$8

Yerba Buena Center for the Arts

701 Mission, SF

(415) 978-2787
www.ybca.org

Free at last?

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Free at last?

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC Deep in East Oakland, in the 80s blocks of MacArthur Boulevard, I arrive at the locked door of a hole-in-the-wall barbershop. A handwritten sign says “closed for a private appointment,” but I knock anyway and gain admittance. Inside, Mistah FAB, a.k.a. the Prince of the Bay, lounges in the chair, getting a mural of a crown and the Bay Bridge shaved onto the back of his head. It’s a very hip-hop ‘do, befitting his present mood. For the occasion of our interview, in part, is his new release, an Internet mixtape of all-original music called I Found My Backpack. As the title suggests, it’s a return to his roots, FAB’s most straight-up hip-hop project since his pre-hyphy debut, Nig-Latin (Straight Hits, 2003).

“I wanted to start off this year with that vibe,” FAB says, over the low buzz of the clippers. “I went into the music I made before I had any success, music that made me happy.”

To be sure, 2010 was a difficult year for FAB. Not only did he have his first child, a daughter, but his mother (“my best friend,” he calls her) died of cancer, leaving him with no parents just as he became one. (His father, as chronicled on his breakthrough album, Son of a Pimp [Thizz, 2005], died of AIDS when FAB was 12.) FAB’s closest cousin also passed away, while his older brother — after a lifetime in and out of institutions — was sentenced to life in prison.

“A party song — that can’t express my pain,” FAB says. “I’m not going to ignore it because when you ignore it, it only grows more. I want to allow people to see the stresses and the pain that I go through.”

For someone who emerged during the Bay’s hedonistic hyphy era, FAB has had more than his share of stress. For the past three-and-a-half years, he’s been signed to Atlantic Records, which never released his projected album, Da Yellow Bus Ryder. Meanwhile, thanks to a dispute with KMEL’s former managing director, Big Von Johnson, FAB got no local radio play from the station since 2006, even when he was on Snoop Dogg’s 2008 hit “Life of Da Party,” which reached No. 14 on Billboard’s rap charts. Finally, as its most conspicuous proponent, FAB was hit hard by the backlash against hyphy that flared up in 2007.

Any of the above qualify as a career-killer, but FAB has refused to surrender, and his persistence is paying off. He’s finally negotiated an end to his contract with Atlantic, and plans to sign with L.A. Laker Ron Artest’s Tru Warrior label to release a full-blown album, Liberty Forever, later this year. His versatility has allowed him to reinvent himself even as he defiantly claims hyphy on Backpack‘s Droop-E-produced opener, “Blame Me.”

“People treated hyphy like it was witchcraft,” FAB laughs. “Like when the townspeople came to hunt for everybody who’d been involved, and everybody was like, ‘No! I did nothing hyphy! I never wore stunna shades!’ But I’m not ashamed of anything we done then. I had to get it off my chest because I wanted people to realize how fake they were being.”

Most significantly, FAB is being broadcast again by KMEL. Backpack‘s hip-hop vibe aside, he hasn’t renounced his commercial ambitions. A new single, “She Don’t Belong to Me,” featuring Universal Records R&B crooner London, has recently begun getting spins, following a regime change at the station; program director Stacy Cunningham was fired last year, while Johnson, though still a DJ, is no longer manager, replaced by assistant program director Kenard Karter.

“If you go around the country and hear Rick Ross, T-Pain, Lupe Fiasco shout out Mistah FAB, then it’s odd that you’re not playing him on the radio station you control,” FAB points out. “But [Karter] is about change and giving artists such as myself a fair shot. He reached out to me a few weeks ago, and they’ve been playing my new record here and there, which is better than never there.”

This development potentially goes beyond FAB to the entire Bay, whose artists are seldom represented on Clear Channel-owned KMEL. But is Karter really about change? In an e-mail interview two weeks ago, he acknowledged that he hopes to increase airplay for local artists. But when asked what’s preventing it, he was inconclusive at best. “Its all about the music,” he wrote. “Quality, mass appeal music that garners passion is the standard for KMEL.”

This is the same line KMEL has pushed for years, implying that Bay Area artists are at fault for not making quality music. For a concrete example of an artist meeting his criteria, I asked about J-Stalin. Stalin has one of the most passionate followings in Oakland; I hear his music slappin’ in passing cars, on BART, even in the elevator in my apartment building. Yet KMEL put nothing in rotation from last year’s The Prenuptial Agreement (SMC, 2010), which debuted at No. 1 on Rasputin’s rap chart.

“I can’t comment,” Karter wrote, regarding Stalin. “I don’t know much about him.”

When I asked about FAB, Karter stopped replying, refusing to confirm even meeting with him. I can’t say for sure why, though I imagine his reluctance to discuss FAB stems from not wanting to acknowledge the ban in the first place.

I don’t want to criticize Karter. I’m thrilled he’s playing FAB, and he deserves some time to show and prove. But the Bay needs the radio. Radio made FAB a star back in 2005 when KMEL was banging “Super Sic Wid It,” while his later lack of airplay gave Atlantic cold feet about releasing his album. With his current single, FAB is merely testing the waters; he has an arsenal of bigger singles to release — if the radio will play them. “I have crazy records people would be amazed by,” FAB says. “Records with T-Pain, Snoop Dogg, Talib Kweli, one with Rick Ross and Jadakiss over a Justus League beat — you know, just playing the power names, like, look what I been doing over the years. So if they give this a run, they gonna love what I have in store for them.”

Where the Magik happens

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Where the Magik happens

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC Because of the rusty pieces of corrugated sheet metal crudely affixed to its exterior, I almost mistake Tiny Telephone, a recording studio, for a very large, dilapidated storage unit. But on a brick-red door, alphabet letter magnets spell out “tiny,” and only bits of dried glue and fragments of “telephone” remain. This must be it.

Through the door, a two-wall art installation made of reclaimed redwood (by resident artist Claire Mack) in the lounge/kitchen area catches my eye. I’ve seen pictures of it on the studio’s website. This is it. It’s easy to imagine Death Cab For Cutie or San Francisco songstress Thao drinking beer, shooting the shit, and jamming in this room.

Once I plop down on the couch, pop-folk icon John Vanderslice, owner and manager of Tiny Telephone, pulls up a chair. Minna Choi, the artistic director of Magik*Magik Orchestra, the studio’s official house orchestra, takes a seat on a tan area rug.

“It’s probably like how everyone feels when you’re from San Francisco and you move to the East Coast and there are no good taquerias,” Vanderslice says, laughing, when I ask him about the history of Tiny Telephone. “I was in a small local band,” he elaborates. “We wanted to make a record. We toured every local studio. It was like there were only either rehearsal places with garbage on the floor, or posh, unaffordable, hardwood-floor, uptight-owner situations. There was nothing in the middle.”

In September 1997, Vanderslice opened Tiny Telephone to give independent musicians the opportunity to make affordable hi-fi recordings. Magik*Magik Orchestra entered the picture in 2008. “We wanted to simplify the process of incorporating classically-trained musicians into a nonclassical environment,” Choi says. “So I e-mailed [John].”

“It was like genius!” Vanderslice blurts out.

Adding the orchestra to Tiny Telephone is in tandem with Vanderslice’s evolution as an artist. On 2004’s Cellar Door (Barsuk), he strayed from electric guitar and used acoustic guitar and keyboards. “[Electric guitars] really take up a lot of territory,” he explains. “It’s a little bit like a cock-block. [Keyboards] can sit in one area, and then you can put something directly above them and below them in the frequency spectrum, so there’s plenty of room for, like, a French horn.” This year’s White Wilderness (Dead Oceans), finds Vanderslice’s tenor accompanied by acoustic guitar and a 19-piece ensemble gleaned from Magik*Magik Orchestra’s roughly 180-person membership.

“It’s great to go in a different direction,” Vanderslice says. “It’s great to move on.”

We all stand to start the tour. As I walk across the aqua blue floor, my hand grazes Fender amps that line the walkway to the main recording room. Inside, it’s dimly lit. When Vanderslice flips a switch, a white deer head becomes illuminated — like a statue of an idol — by Christmas lights strung on a pump organ. In one breath, he enumerates some of the equipment that is available: 14 guitar amps, a Hammond b3, a grand piano, keyboards, an EMT reverb plate. The lexicon of music recording equipment is dizzying. Vanderslice points to the walls: “These are all untreated cedar panels. This is cotton batting.” As we leave the room, he pauses to mention that the studio has been booked for more than 400 days in a row.

We climb a few rickety stairs to enter the control room, where we’re joined by Ian Pellicci, Tiny Telephone’s house engineer. With its UV meters, faders, and colored knobs, the room’s Neve console, built in 1976 for the BBC in London, looks like a prop taken from the bridge of the original Star Trek‘s Enterprise. This is the tape machine,” says Choi. “I’m proud to say that I was here when they put all of the light bulbs in, then all of a sudden it came alive like Wall-E.”

To encourage analog recording, Tiny Telephone provides free two-inch tape to clients. “Not that digital is terrible. But the technology has a ways to go,” Pellicci says. “There’s a greater dimension to the sound [of analog].”

Next we shuffle into the isolation room. “We’re basically in an anechoic isolation room where people can do vocals, drums — ” Vanderslice begins to explain. But with the room’s door open, I can hear the raucous sounds of construction taking place down the hallway.

Next door, what once was an auto shop is being converted into a separate studio, a “B Room” Opening in June, the B Room will be set up as an arts nonprofit modeled after The Bay Bridged and 826 Valencia. Unlike Tiny Telephone, which costs $350 per day plus engineers, the B Room will cost $200 daily. “We wanted to give bands a low-cost option to record on a tape machine, on a real console with microphones, in a space where they can make as much noise as they want,” says Vanderslice.

“With this other price point, [Vanderslice] is tapping into another group of bands and artists,” Choi adds. “There are probably so many diamonds in the rough — crazy talent waiting to be discovered.”

As the tour winds down, Vanderslice shares his vision of Tiny Telephone and the B Room: “We’re going to put a picnic table outside, a basketball hoop — we’re going to build community. And that’s what it’s all about.”

Butch blooms

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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1
Butch blooms

culture@sfbg.com

V-DAY So you want to buy a nice little floral arrangement for that hot JD Samson look-alike who works behind the butcher counter — or perhaps you’re having a hard time picking out a rose for the tall, dark flannel-clad bear you met on  Fuzzy4Fuzzy.com. Does ze even like flowers? Hell, it can even be rough finding the right bloom for your beloved bio male. Anyone who has ever been romantically involved with a masculine-presenting honey bun knows that carnations, lingerie, and other frilly V-Day accoutrement just ain’t cuttin’ it. So what kind of bouquet can you give a butch? Something spiky? Flowers made from aged leather? Pieces of wood? We asked the city’s florists for their best bets for the rough and tumble.

 

CHURCH STREET FLOWERS

Stephanie Foster is one of three owners at Church Street Flowers, a shop that does made-to-order arrangements featuring locally grown botanicals. “We do bouquets for masculine people all the time,” she tells us. “Guys love getting flowers too.” Foster recommends “brighter colors, like orange, yellow, green, or white.” And less is more when you want to impress a tough type. “As opposed to something very feminine and garden-y, we’d do something simpler. Plus, in our shop you’ll probably find things other places don’t carry, like seed pods that hold a structural quality instead of a flowery quality.”

212 Church, SF. (415) 553-7762, www.churchstflowers.com

 

PAXTON GATE

We were sure that this Mission gem — SF’s O.G. go-to for fanciful taxidermy, flora, and low maintenance landscape design — would have the goods for area hombres, and it didn’t disappoint. Come V-Day, Paxton Gate will be selling special holiday arrangements fit for a butch, each complete with a shiny preserved beetle garnish. “We wanted the arrangements to be long-lasting, so we’ll incorporate some rugged South African plants like proteas, maybe succulents, and some dried components,” says floral designer Sean Quigley. The store will be bundling its buggy blooms in advance for lovers on the go. At $38 a bunch, they’ll be a little pricey — but think of what you’ll save on your butcher bill.

824 Valencia, SF. (415) 824-1872, www.paxtongate.com

 

THE FRENCH TULIP

“I’m from Eastern Europe,” says owner Andre Abramov in a phone interview. When asked what flowers he would recommend for a dude, Abramov immediately recommended orchids. “In Greek, ‘orchid’ translates to ‘testicle.’ That would be perfect for a man.” If you’re not sold on highlighting your valentine’s testicles (or lack thereof), Abramov also stands by roses, cala lilies, and anthurium lilies for the butch in your life. “They’re strong, colorful, and they make a very big statement.” Just like your lumberjack love.

3903 24th St., SF. (415) 647-8661, www.frenchtulip.com

 

THE FLOWER GIRL

Mieko Takahashi Obermuller has owned and operated this Inner Sunset neighborhood floral shop since 1978. She understands the butch bloom conundrum: “First of all, tropical flowers are very bold,” she says. “Birds of paradise would look nice with some interesting greens, and I love proteas.” Obermuller, who specializes in Eastern floral design, says arrangement is crucial. “You have to know how to put it together. One, two, or three orchids with some greens — it’s simple but it makes a statement. I can take feminine flowers like tiger lilies, blue irises, or curly willows but still design the arrangement for a masculine look.” It’s not quite studded leather, but it sounds like something that’d look great on that meat counter.

1127 Irving, SF. (415) 731-0230, www.flowergirlsf.com

Local tokens

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Local tokens

V-DAY No need to go far for an anti-lame gift for the Feb. 14. C’mon hot child, live in the city — and snag your valentine a lil’ somethin’ from this list of SF-made gift ideas, sure to show your honey that you care about the local economy as well as that special something you guys have going on.

>> Rickshaw Bags’ precious Pipsqueak handlebar bag ($25) means an end to your valentine fumbling about in their messenger tote for Chapstick or a cell phone. Bike safety: so, so sexy.

Rickshaw Bags, 994 22nd St., SF; (877) 503-9542, www.rickshawbags.com

>> Your love’s got roots, but not without healthy soil. Get a pound of red wigglers ($20) for your favorite gardener from this vermi-composting stay-at-home-mom. Mama’s Worm Composting, available for pick-up in SF.

www.mamaswormcomposting.com

>> Blakely Bass, owner of RAG clothing gallery, makes Native American-inspired leather hair wraps ($15-20) with hides she buys at a SoMa tannery. Not only are the accessories uber local, but they’re beautiful and will be a hit with the long hairs who can’t be bothered with strands in their face.

RAG Residents’ Apparel Gallery, 541 Octavia, SF. (415) 621-7718, www.ragsf.com

>> Convinced your fates are intertwined? Have a batch of customized fortune cookies ($5 for a batch of 100) baked to reflect your bright future together, with a crunch. Same-day printing is available.

Golden Gate Fortune Cookies, 56 Ross, SF. (415) 781-3956

>> We get it: you wanna be original. But hey Juliet, sometimes the tested-and-true got to be that way for a reason, so spring for some chocolate. Sweeten ’em up with some Poco Dolce popcorn toffee squares ($16) — these ain’t your grandma’s box of brittle. Available in various SF grocery stores.

www.pocodolce.com

>> Your baby deserves a nice new ‘fit to step out in. We’re betting the sweet pleats dress ($110) from Noo Works — a chic company that sells its well-fitting, stylin’, yet casual clothes out of its Mission District storefront — will bring some spring to her strut.

Noo Works, 395 Valencia, SF. (415) 821-7623, www.nooworks.com

>> Blossom Organics Pure Pleasure Arousal Gel ($16) has amassed quite a following in the city — which shouldn’t come as a surprise. After all, if you can’t make a lube to light up San Franciscans’ x’s and o’s, then we’re going about it all wrong.

Good Vibrations, Various SF locations. www.goodvibes.com

>> No sk8r boy (or boi) is gonna coast off from a love note accompanied by these Spitfire skateboard wheels ($24 for four) — a V-Day gift like these says “I’ll never bolt my ledges.”

DLX Skateboards, 1831 Market, SF. (415) 626-5588, www.dlxsf.com

>> Kitty-cats and doggies need love too! Jeffery’s Natural Pet Foods stocks great options for your four-legged friend — the foods come in raw varieties that go easy on their fuzzy tummies.

Jeffery’s Natural Pet Foods, 3809 18th St., SF. (415) 864-1414 and 1841 Powell, SF. (415) 402-0342, www.jefferysnaturalpetfood.com

>> Zine-and-crafteria Needles and Pens has all sorts of SF-made goodies that look swell wrapped up in red construction paper. Try Matt Furie and Sam Gaskin’s recently released zine Hot Topik ($5) for your boo-boo who is into stoner humor or vinyl heart earrings made from repurposed records ($20) for LP lovers.

Needles and Pens, 3253 16th St., SF. (415) 255-1534, www.needles-pens.com

>> But enough of the hearts and kitty-cats — when do we get to the dead bug gifts? Local jeweler Bug Under Glass makes a surprisingly sweet butterfly wing necklace that’ll give your little love bug ants in their pants — in a good way. Available at various SF stores.

www.bugunderglass.com

>> SF-made fetish wear: a real turn-on for City by the Bay pervs. Hook her with the heartbreaker pasties from Madame S — encourage her to give them a test drive and hey howdy! Happy Valentine’s Day to you!

Madame S, 385 Eighth St., SF. (415) 863-7734, www.madame-s.com

Meet-cute 2011

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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1
Meet-cute 2011

V-DAY Maybe your hands brushed while browsing the vinyl jazz bins at Amoeba. Maybe she caught up with you on the new Valencia Street bike lanes to compliment your ride. Or perhaps your kite strings got entangled on Marina Green one windy afternoon …

For this year’s Valentine’s Issue, we asked our readers in relationships to submit their “meet-cute” stories — the improbable, mystifying, funny, weird, or, yes, mushy ways they met their snuggle bunny. We received dozens of responses, from the heartwarming to the bizarre. It was incredibly hard to choose, but below are our 10 favorites.

We also chose one lucky entrant at random to win a date (dinner for two and a live show) at Yoshi’s San Francisco. Congratulations, Sam Dahan!

 

MISTAKEN MAKE-OUT

Friday the 13th. Full Moon. Make-Out Room in the Mission. I was supposed to meet my roommate’s cute single friends in the front booth, but they were long gone. So I accidentally introduced myself to this pretty lady, thinking she was one of them. Bought drinks. Flirted. “So how long have you worked with Dana?” “Who the heck is Dana?” “Ummm … wanna go out sometime?” Now we’ve been married for seven years.

 

CELL IT, SWEETIE

My cell phone just wouldn’t charge anymore, and I needed a replacement. I walked into my cell phone carrier’s local storefront and spotted a hot “must have” at the end of the counter, who just happened to be matched with me for support on the floor. Due to the nature of the transaction, he didn’t get a commission. But after giving me his card, he soon got a call. Thank goodness my battery was charged! Two years and at least four phones later, he’s still in my cell phone “top five” and he’s No. 1 in my heart.

 

CARNAVAL OF LOVE

There was a big Carnaval party in the Mission, and a friend promised to fix me up with a cute Brazilian musician. They arrived well past midnight, when the party was winding down. The musician was starving after playing a gig. His English was minimal, but so cute with the accent. “There is no food in this house,” he said. “I’ll cook you breakfast,” I said. “To have breakfast, I must sleep in your home,” he said — to which I replied, “I don’t think you’re gonna get much sleep.” Our 20th anniversary is June 21. And yes, I cooked him breakfast … eventually!

 

MORE THAN A-PEELING

He was a San Francisco native, and so was she. They went separately to see live music at the Edinburgh Castle. Sitting next to one another at the bar, they began to chat. In the first 10 minutes, they discovered they had the same favorite movie, Wings of Desire. Before leaving, she gave him her number written on the only thing she had handy — a banana. This March, 10 years later, they will celebrate their tenth “Banana Day”: the anniversary of the day they met.

 

TWO SNAPS UP

I was a nightlife photographer. He was a nightlife promoter and manager. One day, we found ourselves venting to each other about all the drunk people we had to baby-sit all the time. Just as our eyes met, someone threw up at the bar across from us. The rest is history!

 

BOOKED FOR LOVE

It was a normal Saturday afternoon as I took my post at the front desk of a library at Cal. A few hours into my shift, a guy passed me by on his way to the exit, tossing a small folded note onto my desk before quickly boarding the elevator. I looked up and said, “Thanks!” not really thinking. I opened the note to find, “Hey, you’re cute.” Blushing, I folded it up and, four days later, finally decided to go for it. Three years later, I couldn’t be any happier or more thankful that I did.

 

CORNY?

On the first Saturday of March Madness, my buddy hosts an annual Corn Dog Day party in Oakland. Although it’s an unlikely place for vegetarians to get together, I first met Kerry at CDD 2004. While other partygoers tried to score a triple-double of 10 dogs, 10 servings of tots, and 10 beers, I tried to score a glance from the adorable redhead. We chatted briefly while waiting for veggie dogs during halftime of the Stanford-Alabama game. I was smitten; she was mostly just hungry. But seven years later, we’re preparing to celebrate our first CDD as husband and wife!

 

SHACKED UP

I can say without much exaggeration that I met the man of my dreams in a dirty shack. My first October in San Francisco, a friend invited me over for Sukkoth, the Jewish harvest celebration involving a temporary structure made of branches and flora — a sukkah. On arrival, his roommate Carlton greeted me. We talked all night in that sukkah. I’ve been smitten since! In our four years, Carlton’s inspired me to song many times. As I wrote in a song for my band, My First Earthquake: “Starry night in a twig hut/ Man, did I have the pot’s luck!”

 

PORN AGAIN

My then-boyfriend and I filmed an artistic amateur porn as a birthday gift for a friend of mine. We wound up hooking up together with the director, an insanely cute and talented nightclub videographer. After my BF and I broke up and I moved overseas for a couple years, I came back and reconnected with the videographer over a camping trip. We’ve been cuddle bunnies ever since.

 

NEVER GIVE UP

“Cute Fat Girl Seeks Cute Fat Boy for Romance and Companionship” was the headline. I was ready to give up searching, but a friend talked me into placing a personal ad (probably my umpteenth at that point) on Craigslist. I met Dub on a Thursday night and I was smitten from the start. Two weeks later, he presented me with a beautiful handmade garnet necklace as a token of his affection. Seven years later, we are happily married, still cute and fat, and I’m just as smitten — if not more.

Stage Listings

Andrew Lam
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0

ONGOING

Audition – A Play Exit Theater, 156 Eddy; (800) 838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. Call for price. Thurs and Sat, 8pm; Sun, 3pm. Through Sun/13. GenerationTheatre presents a comedy of the absurd by Roland David Valayre.

Bone to Pick and Diadem Exit on Taylor, 277 Taylor; (800) 838-3006, www.cuttingball.com. $15-50. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through Sun/13. Cutting Ball Theatre presents a pair of plays by Eugenie Chan.

Clue Boxcar Playhouse, 505 Natoma; 776-1747, www.boxcartheatre.org. $15-35. Wed-Fri, 8pm; Sat, 7 and 10pm. Through Feb 19. A play based on a film based on a board game is just the kind of tangled genealogy much goodtime theater is made of these days. So there’s nothing too new about Boxcar’s stage adaptation of the manic 1985 comedy derived from a once popular Parker Bros. diversion. In fact, it’s at least the second stage adaptation of same to be offered in San Francisco. (Impossible Productions remounted its version at the Dark Room just last year.) Nevertheless, led by adapter-director Nick A. Olivero, Boxcar’s production pursues its vision like a mad yen, with a loving fidelity and self-referential glee that are not so much inspired as just plain zealous (although Olivero’s scenic design does reach new heights: a TV-toned board-game set that the audience peers down on from six-feet-high balconies ringing the stage). Performances are dutiful and solid for the most part, with especially nice work from Brian Martin (as the butler) and J. Conrad Frank (as Mrs. Peacock). Although there’s something vaguely and not unpleasantly hypnotic about it all, groups of cult-film line-gleaners may be the best audience for this one. (Avila)

*The Companion Piece Z Space at Theatre Artaud, 450 Florida; (800) 838-3006, www.zspace.org. $20-$40. Thurs 7pm; Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through Sun/13. Z Space presents the world premiere of a new play by Mark Jackson, with Beth Wilmurt and Christopher Kuckenbaker.

Next to Normal Curran Theatre, 445 Geary; (888) SHN-1799, www.shnsf.com. $30-99. Call for dates and times. Through Feb 20. Diana Goodman (Alice Ripley) is a woman too restlessly witty and big-souled to sit easy in the suburban home she shares with her husband (Asa Somers), 16-year-old daughter (Emma Hunton), and 18-year-old son (Curt Hansen). What’s worse, the 18-year-old died as a baby about 17 years ago, and has not been taking the news lying down. A mother’s grief winds through this sometimes clever, mostly sappy, and ultimately tedious Broadway rock musical about a bipolar woman and the impact of her illness on her family. Director Michael Greif’s (Rent) kinetic staging takes place across a three-level industrial-box set that houses musicians in its outer corners as well as the stereotypical family dwelling in its center. The set’s outer façade (moving panels featuring giant eyes and mouth) meanwhile suggests the whole thing as a model of the mind we’re witnessing come apart. The 2008 musical by Brian Yorkey (book and lyrics) and Tom Kitt (music) won a Pulitzer for its supposedly bold depiction of mental illness. But despite reasonable scoffing at the paternalistic, pharmacologically fueled regime of mainstream treatment (embodied by Jeremy Kushnier’s various doctors), neither Tony-winner Ripley’s jagged performance nor Yorkey’s book transcends a stultifying and finally grating set of narrative clichés, which the driving, mostly generic-sounding score only makes more obvious. A Woman Under the Influence this isn’t. (Avila)

Out of Sight The Marsh, 1062 Valencia; (800) 838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $15-35. Thurs and Sat, 8pm; Sun, 3pm. Through Sun/13. Sara Felder’s solo show combines juggling and shadow puppetry to tell the coming-of-age story of a devoted Jewish daughter who, after an eye-opening trip to Israel as a teen in the 1980s, reaches a crisis of understanding with her legally blind opera-loving mother, an ardent Zionist. The first juggling act belongs to her mother (as portrayed by Felder), who amusingly balances several sets of eyeglasses and other magnifying devices to capture a sense of the action at the Met. From there, Felder weaves increasingly adept and riskier feats of juggling into her narrative, as if sharpening her own set of 20/20s (as an out lesbian and a questioning Jew vis-à-vis Israel) from within the penumbra of motherly influence and affection. It’s also, at times, a striking illustration of both the unease and grace she manifests in broaching the subject of Israel’s glaring contradictions. Significantly, Felder’s seminal romance with a woman pays no part in the tension with her mother—or with her best male friend, who turns Orthodox after touching down in the Holy Land. Rather, it’s the gentle Felder’s encounter with the reality of the Jewish state for Palestinians and her willingness to see it for what it is. Still, given the chasm between mother and daughter on so big and basic an issue, their reconciliation comes a bit fast and neat. (Avila)

Party of 2 – The New Mating Musical Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter; (800) 838-3006, www.partyof2themusical.com. $27-29. Sun, 3pm. Open-ended. A musical about relationships by Shopping! The Musical author Morris Bobrow.

*Pearls Over Shanghai Thrillpeddlers’ Hypnodrome, 575 Tenth St; 1-800-838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. $30-69. Sat, 8pm. Through April 9. Thrillpeddlers’ acclaimed production of the Cockettes musical continues its successful run.

Spalding Gray: Stories Left to Tell Gough Street Playhouse, 1620 Gough; (510) 207-5774, www.custommade.org. $10-25. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through Feb 19. Originally conceived as a one-off benefit show by Gray’s widow, Kathleen Russo and director Lucy Sexton, Spalding Gray: Stories Left to Tell intersperses segments of some of Gray’s most famous works—Swimming to Cambodia, Gray’s Anatomy, Monster in a Box—with excerpts from his journals, the stories left to tell. The original concept to have five actors representing five aspects of Gray’s words—adventure, career, family, journals, and love—seems to have been crafted with the specific purpose of allowing several people the opportunity to “speak for” Spalding, without actually performing “as” Spalding, appropriate enough for a celebratory memorial, but hard to accept as a capital-P play. It’s a conundrum that Custom Made Theatre cannot solve. Half the cast convey by their tone and manner the casual ease of campfire story-tellers, while the other half take a more performative approach to their recitations, particularly a smooth Patrick Barresi as “Career” and the likable Richard Wenzel as “Love.” The stories themselves are often hilarious, including Gray’s turns as a “Bowery Bum,” a jailbird in Nevada, and a sweat lodge initiate, while the stories that are not side-splittingly funny are poignant, painful, and even unflinchingly sentimental, especially in regards to his young sons. But as a work of theatre, they underwhelmed. (Gluckstern)

Treefall New Conservatory Theatre Center, 25 Van Ness; 861-8972, www.nctsf.org. $24-40. Call for dates and times. Through Feb 27. New Conservatory Theatre Center presents a tale of erotic attraction by Henry Murray.

BAY AREA

The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs Berkeley Rep, Thrust Stage, 2025 Addison, Berk; (510) 647-2949, www.berkeleyrep.org. $14.50-73. Call for dates and times. Through Feb 27. Storyteller Mike Daisey spins a yarn about the Apple head.

Collapse Aurora Theatre, 2081 Addison, Berk; (510) 843-4822, www.auroratheatre.org. $34-55. Wed-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2 and 7pm; Tues, 7pm (also Feb 19, 2pm). Through March 6. Aurora Theatre presents a comedy by Allison Moore.

East 14th – True Tales of a Reluctant Player The Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston Way, Berk; (800) 838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Call for times. Through Sun/13. Don Reed’s one-man show continues its extended run.

Grapes of Wrath Marion E. Green Black Box Theater, 531 19th, Oakl; www.theatrefirst.com. $10-30. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm. Through Feb 20. TheatreFIRST presents Frank Galati’s stage adaptation of the John Steinbeck novel.

Heartbreak House Live Oak Theatre, 1301 Shattuck, Berk; (510) 649-0999, www.berkeleyrep.org. $12-15. Fri-Sat, 8pm (also Sun/13, 2pm; Feb, 17, 8pm). Through Feb 19. Actors Ensemble of Berkeley presents the George Bernard Shaw comedy set just before World War I.

The Last Cargo Cult Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Thrust Stage, 2025 Addison, Berk; (510) 647-2949, www.berkeleyrep.org. $14.50-73. Call for dates and times. Through Feb 20. As fans of J. Maarten Troost have learned, life on an island “paradise” is far less idyllic than the imagination yearns to believe. So it’s hardly surprising that Mike Daisey’s monologue The Last Cargo Cult begins with a white-knuckle ride in a prop plane piloted by a man with a milky eye. Daisey’s destination, the Pacific island of Tanna, is the location of one of the world’s last so-called “cargo cults”, and their big celebration “John Frum Day” is approaching. Daisey’s intention to hang out at the festivities smacks a little of entitled voyeurism, but the parallel he manages to draw between the complexities of a religion dedicated to a mythical cargo of “awesome shit”, and our own dedication to the acquisition of same, is a striking one. From our almost blind faith in the value of basically valueless currency, to our even blinder faith that indenturing ourselves by debt will enrich us, the foundations of our own “cargo cult” are revealed smartly by Daisey to be just as precarious as if built at the base of a volcano as in Tanna. Still, I found the most revealing thing about the evening to be the moment when the couple next to me took off with a $100 bill they’d acquired free-of-charge at the door, to which I can’t help but ask them: “Did you get your money’s worth?” (Gluckstern)

Not a Genuine Black Man The Marsh Berkeley, TheaterStage, 2120 Allston, Berk; 826-5750, www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Fri, 8pm. Through Feb 18. Brian Copeland brings back his long-running solo show.

Strange Travel Suggestions The Marsh Berkeley, Cabaret, 2120 Allston Way, Berk; (800) 838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $15-35. Thurs-Fri, 8pm; Sat, 5pm. Through Feb 19. Jeff Greenwald stars in a one-man show about the vagaries of wanderlust.

The 39 Steps TheatreWorks at the Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts, 500 Castro, Mtn View; (650) 463-1960, www.theatreworks.org. $24-79. Tues-Wed, 7:30pm; Thurs-Fri, 8pm; Sat, 2 and 8pm; Sun, 2 and 7pm. Through Sun/13. TheatreWorks presents Patrick Barlow’s comic adaptation of the book and movie of the same name.

World’s Funniest Bubble Show The Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston Way, Berk; (800) 838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $8-11. Sun, 11am. Through April 3. The Amazing Bubble Man extends the bubble-making celebration.

PERFORMANCE/DANCE

BAY AREA

Marga’s Funny Mondays The Cabaret at The Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston; (800) 838-3006, www.themarsh.org. Mon/7, 8pm. $10. Marga Gomez hosts a Monday night comedy series.

 

Stage listings are compiled by Guardian staff. Performance times may change; call venues to confirm. Reviewers are Robert Avila, Rita Felciano, and Nicole Gluckstern. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com. For further information on how to submit items for the listings, see Picks. For complete listings, see www.sfbg.com.

Rep Clock

Andrew Lam
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Schedules are for Wed/9–Tues/15 except where noted. Director and year are given when available. Double and triple features are marked with a •. All times are p.m. unless otherwise specified.

ARTISTS’ TELEVISION ACCESS 992 Valencia, SF; www.atasite.org. $6. “Black History Month Film Showing:” Freedom on My Mind (Field and Mulford, 1994), Thurs, 7:30.

BERKELEY FELLOWSHIP OF UNITARIAN UNIVERSALISTS 1924 Cedar, SF; www.bfuu.org. Donations accepted. Chisholm ’72: Unbought and Unbossed (Lynch, 2004), Thurs, 7.

CASTRO 429 Castro, SF; (415) 621-6120, www.castrotheatre.com. $7.50-10. •Se7en (Fincher, 1995), Wed, 2:20, 7, and Memento (Nolan, 2000), Wed, 4:45, 9:25. “Buzz on Parade:” •Gold Diggers of 1933 (LeRoy, 1933), Thurs, 1:25, 4:55, and 8:55, and 42nd Street (Bacon, 1933), Thurs, 3:15, 7; •Dames (Enright, 1934), Fri, 1:25, 5:05, 9:10, and Footlight Parade (Bacon, 1933), Fri, 3:10, 7. “San Francisco Silent Film Festival Winter Event:” “It’s Mutual: Charlie Chaplin Shorts,” Sat, 1; L’argent (L’Herbier, 1928), Sat, 3:30; La Bohéme (Vidor, 1926), Sat, 8. For advance tickets ($15-17) or more info, visit www.silentfilm.org. “Scary Cow’s 13th Independent Film Festival,” Sun, 3. “A Victor/Victoria Valentine:” Victor/Victoria (Edwards, 1982), Mon, 9:30. With a tribute to star Lesley Ann Warren; for advance tickets and info on pre-show reception (8pm, $25), visit www.ticketfly.com.

CHRISTOPHER B. SMITH RAFAEL FILM CENTER 1118 Fourth St, San Rafael; (415) 454-1222, www.cafilm.org. $6.50-15. The Illusionist (Chomet, 2010), call for dates and times. “Mostly British Film Festival:” Boy (Waititi, 2010), Wed, 7; Beneath Hill 60 (Sims, 2010), Thurs, 7. Peter Pan (Brenon, 1924), Sun, 3. With the Mont Alto Motion Picture Orchestra.

FRAENKEL GALLERY 1453 Valencia, SF; www.believersfilm.com. Free. “The Believers” (Grannan, 2011), film installation, through Feb 26 (gallery hours Wed-Sun, noon-7).

HUMANIST HALL 390 27th St, Oakl; www.humanisthall.org. $5. The War on Democracy (Pigler and Martin, 2007), Wed, 7:30.

MECHANICS’ INSTITUTE 57 Post, SF; (415) 393-0100, rsvp@milibrary.org. $10. “CinemaLit Film Series: New Year’s Revolutions:” Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow (de Sica, 1963), Fri, 6.

PACIFIC FILM ARCHIVE 2575 Bancroft, Berk; (510) 642-5249, www.bampfa.berkeley.edu. $5.50-9.50. “Film 50: History of Cinema: Fantasy Films and Realms of Enchantment:” Aelita, Queen of Mars (Protanzanov, 1924), Wed, 3:10. “Radical Light: Alternative Film and Video in the San Francisco Bay Area:” Tongues Untied (Riggs, 1989) with “Binge” (Hershman, 1987), Wed, 7:30. “World Cinema Foundation:” Trances (El Maanouni, 1981), Thurs, 7. “Suspicion: The Films of Claude Chabrol and Alfred Hitchcock:” Rope (Hitchcock, 1948), Fri, 7; Inspector Lavardin (Chabrol, 1986), Fri, 8:40; Madame Bovary (Chabrol. 1991), Sat, 7; Story of Women (Chabrol, 1989), Sun, 5. “Cruel Cinema: New Directions in Tamil Film:” Subramaniapuram (Sasikumar, 2008), Sun, 3. “The Lunch Love Community Documentary Project,” Sun, 2:30.

RED VIC 1727 Haight, SF; (415) 668-3994; www.redvicmoviehouse.com. $6-10. The Jerk (Reiner, 1979), Wed, 2, 7:15, 9:20. “Nine Nation Animation,” Thurs-Fri, 7:15, 9:15. “A Special Fundraiser for the Red Vic: Lovers + Liberators:” •Bold Native (Hennelly and Suchan, 2010) and All Power to the People (Lee, 1996), Sat, 7, 9:30. Annie Hall (Allen, 1977), Sun-Tues, 7:15, 9:20 (also Sun, 2, 4).

ROXIE 3117 and 3125 16th St, SF; (415) 863-1087, www.roxie.com. $5-9.75. San Francisco Independent Film Festival, through Feb 17. See film listings or www.sfindie.com for more info. YERBA BUENA CENTER FOR THE ARTS 701 Mission, SF; (415) 978-2787, www.ybca.org. $6-8. “Volume 14: Middle East,” nine videos focusing on the Middle East compiled by ASPECT: The Chronicle of New Media Art, Jan 13-March 27 (gallery hours Thurs-Sat, noon-8; Sun, noon-6). “Revolución,” short films from Mexican directors, Thurs-Fri, 7:30. Shoah (Lanzmann, 1985), Sun, 11am (complete film with one-hour break). 

Music Listings

Andrew Lam
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WEDNESDAY 9

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

*Cradle of Filth, Nachmystium, Turisas, Daniel Lioneye Regency Ballroom. 8pm, $27.

Expendables, Hold Up, B Foundation, Mordor Slim’s. 8pm, $24.

My Revolver, Rosa Grande, Days of High Adventure Elbo Room. 9pm, $6.

Oh Sees, Sic Alps Great American Music Hall. 8pm, $16. Benefit for the Coalition on Homelessness.

7 Orange ABC, Cash Pony, Maiden Lane Rickshaw Stop. 8pm, $10.

Al B. Sure! Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8pm, $26.

Times of Grace, War Of Ages, Straight Line Stitch Bottom of the Hill. 8pm, $13.

Travis Johns-Liz Meredith Holiday Heart, Head-Head Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $6.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Cat’s Corner with Christine and Nathan Savanna Jazz. 7:30pm, $5.

Dink Dink Dink, Gaucho, Michael Abraham Amnesia. 7pm, free.

Ben Marcato and the Mondo Combo Top of the Mark. 7:30pm, $10.

“Meridian Music: Composers in Performance” Meridian Gallery, 535 Powell, SF; www.meridiangallery.org. 7:30pm, $10. “Natural History” by dancer Heloise Gold and duo Gusty Winds May Exist.

Spaceheater Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St, SF; (415) 642-0474. 8:30pm, free.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 8pm, $35.

DANCE CLUBS

Booty Call Q-Bar, 456 Castro, SF; www.bootycallwednesdays.com. 9pm. Juanita Moore hosts this dance party, featuring DJ Robot Hustle.

Cannonball Beauty Bar. 10pm, free. Rock, indie, and nu-disco with DJ White Mike.

Hands Down! Bar on Church. 9pm, free. With DJs Claksaarb, Mykill, and guests spinning indie, electro, house, and bangers.

Jam Fresh Wednesdays Vessel, 85 Campton, SF; (415) 433-8585. 9:30pm, free. With DJs Slick D, Chris Clouse, Rich Era, Don Lynch, and more spinning top 40, mashups, hip hop, and remixes.

Mary-Go-Round Lookout, 3600 16th St, SF; (415) 431-0306. 10pm, $5. A weekly drag show with hosts Cookie Dough, Pollo Del Mar, and Suppositori Spelling.

No Room For Squares Som., 2925 16th St, SF; (415) 558-8521. 6-10pm, free. DJ Afrodite Shake spins jazz for happy hour.

Respect Wednesdays End Up. 10pm, $5. Rotating DJs Daddy Rolo, Young Fyah, Irie Dole, I-Vier, Sake One, Serg, and more spinning reggae, dancehall, roots, lovers rock, and mash ups.

Synchronize Il Pirata, 2007 16th St, SF; (415) 626-2626. 10pm, free. Psychedelic dance music with DJs Helios, Gatto Matto, Psy Lotus, Intergalactoid, and guests.

 

THURSDAY 10

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Badfish: A Tribute to Sublime, My Peoples, Impalers Independent. 8pm, $20.

Jefre Cantu-Ledesma, Higuma, Jon Porras Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $6.

Expendables, Hold Up, B Foundation, Mordor Slim’s. 8pm, $24.

*Finntroll, Ensiferum, Rotten Sound, Barren Earth DNA Lounge. 7:30pm, $25.

Kegels, Dead Panic, Bombpops, Penny Dreadfuls Thee Parkside. 9pm, $6.

Nightwatchman, Jolie Holland, Jason Webley, Ryan Harvey and Lia Rose Bottom of the Hill. 8:30pm, $12-18. Benefit for Sarah Shourd’s work to free Shane Bauer and Josh Fattal; visit www.freethehikers.org for more info.

Unauthorized Rolling Stones Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $15.

Vir, Manatee, Wait.Think.Fast, Dandelion War Red Devil Lounge. 8pm, $6.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Sheldon Forrest Savanna Jazz. 7:30pm, $5.

“Martha Wainwright Sings Piaf” Great American Music Hall. 8pm, $25.

Pete Escovedo Latin Jazz Orchestra with Sheila E. Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8 and 10pm, $20-26.

Alex Pinto Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St, SF; (415) 642-0474. 8:30pm, free.

SF Jazz Hotplate Series Amnesia. 9pm.

Stompy Jones Top of the Mark. 7:30pm, $10.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 8pm, $40.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTRY

Peter Himmelman, Bonfires Café Du Nord. 8pm, $18.

Jeanne and Chuck Atlas Café. 8pm, free.

Kardash Red Poppy Art House. 7pm, $15.

DANCE CLUBS

Afrolicious Elbo Room. 9:30pm, $5. DJs Pleasuremaker and Señor Oz spin Afrobeat, tropicália, electro, samba, and funk.

CakeMIX SF Wish, 1539 Folsom, SF; www.wishsf.com. 10pm, free. DJ Carey Kopp spinning funk, soul, and hip hop.

Caribbean Connection Little Baobab, 3388 19th St, SF; (415) 643-3558. 10pm, $3. DJ Stevie B and guests spin reggae, soca, zouk, reggaetón, and more.

Drop the Pressure Underground SF. 6-10pm, free. Electro, house, and datafunk highlight this weekly happy hour.

Guilty Pleasures Gestalt, 3159 16th St, SF; (415) 560-0137. 9:30pm, free. DJ TophZilla, Rob Metal, DJ Stef, and Disco-D spin punk, metal, electro-funk, and 80s.

Jivin’ Dirty Disco Butter, 354 11th St., SF; (415) 863-5964. 8pm, free. With DJs spinning disco, funk, and classics.

Kissing Booth Make-Out Room. 9pm, free. DJs Jory, Commodore 69, and more spinning indie dance, disco, 80’s, and electro.

Mestiza Bollywood Café, 3376 19th St, SF; (415) 970-0362. 10pm, free. Showcasing progressive Latin and global beats with DJ Juan Data.

Motion Sickness Vertigo, 1160 Polk, SF; (415) 674-1278. 10pm, free. Genre-bending dance party with DJs Sneaky P, Public Frenemy, and D_Ro Cyclist.

Nachtmusik Presents Knockout. 9:30pm, $4. Dark, minimal electronic with DJs Omar, Josh, and Justin.

1984 Mighty. 9pm, $2. The long-running New Wave and 80s party has a new venue, featuring video DJs Mark Andrus, Don Lynch, and celebrity guests.

Peaches Skylark, 10pm, free. With an all female DJ line up featuring Deeandroid, Lady Fingaz, That Girl, and Umami spinning hip hop.

Popscene Rickshaw Stop. 9pm, $10. Emerging artist showcase with Mona, Lesands, and DJs Aaron Axelsen and Nako.

 

FRIDAY 11

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Ryan Bingham and the Dead Horses, Silent Comedy, Liam Gerner Great American Music Hall. 9pm, $21.

“Captain Beefheart Symposium” Independent. 9pm, $20-50. Conducted by Gary Lucas.

Jarrod Gorbel, Mansions, John Thatcher Hotel Utah. 9pm, $12.

Grayceon, Worm Ouroboros, Hollow Mirrors Bottom of the Hill. 10pm, $12.

Meat Beat Manifesto, Not Breathing Red Devil Lounge. 9pm, $20.

Monophonics, Cambo and the Life, DJs Effective and Ism Rickshaw Stop. 9pm, $12.

Tainted Love, Private Idaho Bimbo’s 365 Club. 9pm, $23.

Those Unknowns, Hounds and Harlots, Sydney Ducks Hemlock Tavern. 9:30pm, $6.

Tokyo Raid, Young Rapscallions, Paranoids Kimo’s. 9pm, $8.

Trombone Shorty and Orleans Ave, Los Amigos Invisibles Fillmore. 9pm, $25.

Unauthorized Rolling Stones Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $15.

Yoya, Greenhorse Amnesia. 8pm, $5.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Black Market Jazz Orchestra Top of the Mark. 9pm, $10.

Tommy Emmanuel, Sels Cuerdas: Ezequiel and Martin Etcheverry Palace of Fine Arts, 3301 Lyon, SF; www.omniconcerts.com. 8pm, $41.

Hurd Ensemble Red Poppy Art House. 8pm, $15-20.

Pete Escovedo Latin Jazz Orchestra with Sheila E. Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8 and 10pm, $24-28.

Karen Segal Savanna Jazz. 7:30pm, $8.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 8pm, $45.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTRY

Wiyos, Good Luck Thrift Store Outfit, Possum and Lester Slim’s. 9pm, $15. Part of the San Francisco Bluegrass and Old Time Festival.

Zoyres Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St, SF; (415) 642-0474. 9pm, free.

DANCE CLUBS

Alcoholocaust Presents Riptide Tavern. 9pm, free. With DJ What’s His Fuck and guests Micahel Beller and Brian Richards spinning old-school punk rock and other gems.

Black Valentine’s Masquerade Mighty. 10pm. Wear your anti-Valentine’s best to this party with DJs Krafty Kuts, Ill Gates, Motion Potion, and more.

Blow Up DNA Lounge. 10pm, $20. Dance party with Jeffrey Paradise, Tenderloins, and Midnight Conspiracy.

DJ Mei Lwun Medjool, 2522 Mission, SF; (415) 550-0955. 10:30pm, $10.

Fo’ Sho! Fridays Madrone Art Bar. 10pm, $5. DJs Kung Fu Chris and Makossa spin rare grooves, soul, funk, and hip-hop classics.

Fubar Fridays Butter, 354 11th St., SF; (415) 863-5964. 6pm, $5. With DJs spinning retro mashup remixes.

Good Life Fridays Apartment 24, 440 Broadway, SF; (415) 989-3434. 10pm, $10. With DJ Brian spinning hip hop, mashups, and top 40.

Heartical Roots Bollywood Café. 9pm, $5. Recession friendly reggae.

Hot Chocolate Milk. 9pm, $5. With DJs Big Fat Frog, Chardmo, DuseRock, and more spinning old and new school funk.

Indy Slash Amnesia. 10pm. With DJ Danny Slash.

Rockabilly Fridays Jay N Bee Club, 2736 20th St, SF; (415) 824-4190. 9pm, free. With DJs Rockin’ Raul, Oakie Oran, Sergio Iglesias, and Tanoa “Samoa Boy” spinning 50s and 60s Doo Wop, Rockabilly, Bop, Jive, and more.

Smile! Knockout. 9pm, $7. Psych, soul, glam, bubblegum, and more with DJ Neil Martinson.

Some Thing Stud. 10pm, $7. VivvyAnne Forevermore, Glamamore, and DJ Down-E give you fierce drag shows and afterhours dancing.

Tim Burton Ball Café Du Nord. 8pm, $15. With Imaginary Daughter, Vernian Process, the Tiger Club, and swing lessons by Swing Goth.

Treat Em Right Elbo Room. 10pm, $5. Hip-hop, funk, and reggae with DJs Vinnie Esparza, B. Cause, and guest Roger Mas.

Vintage Orson, 508 Fourth St, SF; (415) 777-1508. 5:30-11pm, free. DJ TophOne and guest spin jazzy beats for cocktalians.

 

SATURDAY 12

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Aquabats! Slim’s. 8pm, $20.

*Drunk Horse, Hot Lunch, Carlton Melton El Rio. 10pm, $8.

Gentry Bronson Band, Alice Rose, Return to Mono, Dirtybirdz Hotel Utah. 5pm, $10.

Derek Hughes Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $20.

Karl Denson’s Tiny Universe, Chali 2na, House of Vibe + Lynx Fillmore. 9pm, $25.

Murder By Death, Builders and the Butchers, Damion Suomi and the Minor Prophets Bottom of the Hill. 10pm, $15.

Need, Nerv, Stand Fight Resist Thee Parkside. 3pm, free.

Night Horse, Electric Sister, Binges Hemlock Tavern. 9:30pm, $7.

Quick and Easy Boys Grant and Green. 9pm.

Tainted Love, This Charming Band Bimbo’s 365 Club. 9pm, $23.

Tumbledown, Tater Famine, Northern Son, Ari Shine Thee Parkside. 9pm, $8.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Cottontails Revolution Café, 3248 22nd St, SF; (415) 642-0474. 9pm, free.

Carol Luckenbach Savanna Jazz. 7:30pm, $8.

Pete Escovedo Latin Jazz Orchestra with Sheila E. Yoshi’s San Francisco. 8 and 10pm, $28.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 7 and 9:30pm, $45.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTRY

Beth Longwell, Nicolas Kouzouyan El Rio. 6pm, free.

Ricardo Peixoto Trio Red Poppy Art House. 8pm, $20.

SF Balalaika Ensemble Seventh Avenue Performances, 1329 Seventh Ave, SF; www.sevenperforms.org. 7:30pm, $15-20.

Craig Ventresco and Meredith Axelrod Atlas Café. 4pm, free.

Bucky Walters, Whiskey Puppy, Erik Clampitt, Dirt Floor Band Café Du Nord. 8:30pm, $15. Part of the San Francisco Bluegrass and Old Time Festival.

DANCE CLUBS

Bootie SF: Valentine’s Party DNA Lounge. 9pm, $6-12. Mash-ups with Adrian and Mysterious D, Smash-Up Derby with guest singer Trixxie Carr, DJ Mykill, and Dada.

Club Gossip Cat Club. 9pm. Lots of Depeche Mode with Randy Maupin, Hollie Stevens, and more.

Cockblock Rickshaw Stop. 10pm, $7. Queer dance party with DJ Nuxx and guests.

DJ Duserock Medjool, 2522 Mission, SF; (415) 550-0955. 10:30pm, $10.

Frolic Stud. 9pm, $3-7. DJs Dragn’Fly, NeonBunny, and Ikkuma spin at this celebration of anthropomorphic costume and dance. Animal outfits encouraged.

HYP Club Eight, 1151 Folsom, SF; www.eightsf.com. 10pm, free. Gay and lesbian hip-hop party, featuring DJs spinning the newest in the top 40s hip hop and hyphy.

Little Heartbreaker’s Ball Li Po Lounge. 8pm, $5. Disco and house with Dr. Sleep, Lel Ephant, Sergio, and the L’Elephant Sound System.

Rock City Butter, 354 11th St., SF; (415) 863-5964. 6pm, $5 after 10pm. With DJs spinning party rock.

Same Sex Salsa and Swing Magnet, 4122 18th St, SF; (415) 305-8242. 7pm, free.

Smithsfits Friend Club Knockout. 9:30pm, $4. Smiths and Misfits with DJs Josh Yule and Jay Howell.

Spirit Fingers Sessions 330 Ritch. 9pm, free. With DJ Morse Code and live guest performances.

Spotlight Siberia, 314 11th St, SF; (415) 552-2100. 10pm. With DJs Slowpoke, Double Impact, and Moe1.

Tormentas Tropical Elbo Room. 10pm, $5-10. Electro-cumbia with Uproot Andy, Jubilee, and DJs Disco Shawn and Oro 11.

 

SUNDAY 13

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

*High on Fire Slim’s. 8pm, $18.

Ky-Mani Marley, DJ Funklor Independent. 9pm, $22.

Parkway Drive, Set Your Goals, Ghost Inside, Warriors, Grave Maker DNA Lounge. 7:30pm, $18.

Ash Reiter, Cowboy and Indian Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $6.

Smith Westerns, Yuck, Grand Lake Bottom of the Hill. 9pm, $12.

“Voice of the Wetlands All-Stars” Great American Music Hall. 8pm, $27. With Tab Benoit, Anders Osborne, Cyril Neville, Big Chief Monk Boudreaux, and more.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Bijou Martuni’s, Four Valencia, SF; (415) 241-0205. 7pm, $5. Loungey love songs.

Manny Moka Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $20.

Pete Escovedo Latin Jazz Orchestra with Sheila E. Yoshi’s San Francisco. 5 and 7pm, $5-28.

Savanna Jazz Trio and jam session Savanna Jazz. 7:30pm, $5.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 5pm, $40.

Faith Winthrop Bliss Bar, 4026 24th St, SF; www.blissbarsf.com. 4:30pm, $10.

FOLK/WORLD/COUNTRY

Gen-11, Revtones Thee Parkside. 2pm, free.

DANCE CLUBS

Dub Mission Elbo Room. 9pm, $6. Dub, roots, and classic dancehall with DJs Sep, Maneesh the Twister, and guest Jah Yzer.

DiscoFunk Mashups Cat Club. 10pm, free. House and 70’s music.

Gloss Sundays Trigger, 2344 Market, SF; (415) 551-CLUB. 7pm. With DJ Hawthorne spinning house, funk, soul, retro, and disco.

Honey Soundsystem Paradise Lounge. 8pm-2am. “Dance floor for dancers – sound system for lovers.” Got that?

Kick It Bar on Church. 9pm. Hip-hop with DJ Zax.

La Pachanga Blue Macaw, 2565 Mission, SF; www.thebluemacawsf.com. 6pm, $10. Salsa dance party with live Afro-Cuban salsa bands.

Religion Bar on Church. 3pm. With DJ Nikita.

Swing Out Sundays Rock-It Room. 7pm, free (dance lessons $15). DJ BeBop Burnie spins 20s through 50s swing, jive, and more.

 

MONDAY 14

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Cake Fillmore. 8pm, $36.50.

Honeycomb, Chloe Makes Music, Magic Leaves Café Du Nord. 8pm, $10.

Radio Dept., Young Prisms, DJ Aaron Axelson Independent. 8pm, $15.

Smith Westerns Amoeba, 1855 Haight, SF; www.amoeba.com. 6pm, free.

JAZZ/NEW MUSIC

Lavay Smith and Her Red Hot Skillet Lickers Biscuits and Blues. 8 and 10pm, $20.

Paula West and George Mesterhazy Quartet Rrazz Room. 7pm, $65.

DANCE CLUBS

Club Neon Knockout. 9pm, $5. Seventh annual Valentine’s Day Underwear Party with DJs Jamie Jams, Aidan, and more.

Death Guild DNA Lounge. 9:30pm, $3-5. Gothic, industrial, and synthpop with Joe Radio, Decay, and Melting Girl.

Krazy Mondays Beauty Bar. 10pm, free. With DJs Ant-1, $ir-Tipp, Ruby Red I, Lo, and Gelo spinning hip hop.

The Look of Love Elbo Room. 10pm, $5-8. Soul, latin, hip-hop, and dancehall with Hot Pocket, 40 Love, and DJ Whooligan.

M.O.M. Madrone Art Bar. 6pm, free. With DJ Gordo Cabeza and guests playing all Motown every Monday.

Manic Mondays Bar on Church. 9pm. Drink 80-cent cosmos with Djs Mark Andrus and Dangerous Dan.

Network Mondays Azul Lounge, One Tillman Pl, SF; www.inhousetalent.com. 9pm, $5. Hip-hop, R&B, and spoken word open mic, plus featured performers.

Sausage Party Rosamunde Sausage Grill, 2832 Mission, SF; (415) 970-9015. 6:30-9:30pm, free. DJ Dandy Dixon spins vintage rock, R&B, global beats, funk, and disco at this happy hour sausage-shack gig.

Skylarking Skylark. 10pm, free. With resident DJs I & I Vibration, Beatnok, and Mr. Lucky and weekly guest DJs.

 

TUESDAY 15

ROCK/BLUES/HIP-HOP

Alcoholocaust Presents Argus Lounge. 9pm, free. With DJ Crystal Meth and DJ What’s His Fuck.

Nicole Atkins and the Black Sea, Cotton Jones, That Ghost Café Du Nord. 9pm, $15.

Boyce Avenue, Megan and Liz, Tiffany Alvord Great American Music Hall. 8pm, $18.

Cake Fillmore. 8pm, $36.50.

Gashcat Café Royale, 800 Post, SF; (415) 641-6033. 8pm, free.

Gerritt, Forked, Cribdeath Hemlock Tavern. 9pm, $5.

Glitter Wizard, Seventeen Evergreen, Naked Lights, Group Rhoda Slim’s. 8pm, $5.

Hello Monster, Resurrection Men, Pony Pony Pony! Bottom of the Hill. 9pm, $8. Chuck Johnson, Jameson Swanagon Amnesia. 9pm, $5. Symbol Six, Corruptors, Soul Trash, Off By An Inch Thee Parkside. 8pm, $6. JAZZ/NEW MUSIC Ricardo Scales Top of the Mark. 6:30pm, $5. DANCE CLUBS Brazilian Wax Elbo Room. 9pm, $7. Samba with Brazil Vox plus DJs Carioca and P-Shot. Eclectic Company Skylark, 9pm, free. DJs Tones and Jaybee spin old school hip hop, bass, dub, glitch, and electro. Extra Classic DJ Night Little Baobab, 3388 19th St, SF; www.bissapbaobab.com. 10pm. Dub, roots, rockers, and reggae from the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Share the Love Trigger, 2344 Market, SF; (415) 551-CLUB. 5pm, free. With DJ Pam Hubbuck spinning house. Womanizer Bar on Church. 9pm. With DJ Nuxx.

Love, Gainsbarre

Andrew Lam
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0
Love, Gainsbarre

FILM/INDIEFEST “Oh, it’s a problem with women,” Serge Gainsbourg says in an interview clip only a few seconds into Pascal Forneri’s entertaining and energetic made-for-TV documentary Gainsbourg, The Man Who Loved Women. For Gainsbourg, the problem was a rewarding one — women were the vehicle by which he moved from a brooding writer of chanson into a national and international provocateur and icon. On an artistic front, Gainsbourg arranged and delivered one musical bouquet after another for a multitude of female singers, to a degree that Forneri’s movie has to adopt a breakneck pace just to include some of his best songs. As time goes on, his accomplishment seems equal to, if not greater than, that of the Beatles, Stones, Beach Boys, and other English-language rock icons.

Opening with over-the-top Gallic narration and arranged into a series of commercial-ready chapters, Gainsbourg, The Man Who Loved Women isn’t pretentious, and it takes care to deliver some of Gainsbourg’s most infamous televised moments, such as a talk show where he — by that time fully and fatalistically given over to his messy, dissolute Gainsbarre mode — informed a young and imperial Whitney Houston he’d like to fuck her. We also get to enjoy young France Gall naively telling an amused and appreciative Gainsbourg that his latest hit song for her, “Les sucettes,” is about “a young girl named Annie who loves lollipops.”

But Forneri’s movie also reveals the sensitivity beneath Gainsbourg the provocative “women’s tailor” of French songwriting. After all, it was Gainsbourg who had Gall sing of herself as “a lonely singing doll.” In one interview excerpt, Gainsbourg says that he prefers writing songs for actresses because they are “more spontaneous than your typical moron,” then criticizes a market that celebrates and throws away young starlets as inherently “fucked.” “It’s very hard to find work, and they don’t do it for the money,” he says bluntly.

Aside from the bombastic narration, Gainsbourg, The Man Who Loved Women‘s primary commentary comes from the women who worked with and knew Gainsbourg, an illustrious group that includes Brigitte Bardot, Jane Birkin, Juliette Greco, Francoise Hardy, and Vanessa Paradis. One of Forneri’s chief stylistic gambits is to leave these interviews off-screen — aside from appearances within archival footage, Gainsbourg’s women are present only as voices. In one sense this sharpens a critical view of Gainsbourg the man, but it also masks the individuality of the women’s perspectives, turning them all into a single femme.

Nonetheless, there are numerous moments where the likes of Birkin assert their personality. Hardy states that writing for women allowed Gainsbourg to express his “sensitivity” and “sentimentality,” an idea that might not be as true when applied to the partnership of Christopher Wallace and Lil’ Kim half a decade after Gainsbourg’s death. Hip-hop’s Bonnie and Clyde duos only follow in the footsteps of Gainsbourg and Bardot, even if Bardot would rather think of herself as George Sand to his Chopin.

Gainsbourg, The Man Who Loved Women is a story that tells itself. There’s an epic’s worth of turbulent romanticism in the still photos of a blissful and radiant Gainsbourg and Bardot recording the original, suppressed version of “Je t’aime … moi non plus,” and the television footage of a cynical Gainsbourg and a brash, irrepressibly coltish Birkin discussing their version of the song. The man himself says that he came up with both “Je t’aime” and “Bonnie and Clyde” in a single night after Bardot said (commanded?), “Write me the most beautiful song you can imagine.” Thanks to “Je t’aime,” Gainsbourg’s name is irrevocably associated with sex. But as anecdotes from Greco and Birkin make clear, he’d just as soon stay up all night talking and drinking with a woman. Instead of orgiastic pleasures, Gainsbourg and Birkin’s first night in a hotel concluded with her gifting a 45 of Ohio Express’ “Yummy Yummy Yummy” (as in “I got love in my tummy”) to Gainsbourg as he slept.

In focusing on Gainsbourg’s relationships with female singers, Gainsbourg, The Man Who Loved Women ignores his musical partnerships with men, most notably Jean-Claude Vannier, with whom he composed and arranged many of his greatest works. But Forneri’s movie arrives at a time when another wave of interest in Gainsbourg is growing in the U.S. and other countries outside France. The past few years have seen Light in the Attic reissue some of Gainsbourg’s greatest recordings, such as 1971’s Histoire de Melody Nelson, the 1969 album version of Je t’aime (which contains Birkin’s “Jane B,” the model for vocals by Blonde Redhead, Deerhoof, and countless others), and Birkin’s 1973 solo debut, Di Doo Dah. This month, a new compilation of Gainsbourg’s pre-starlet compositions, Discograph’s Le claquer de mots, shines light on the big-eared outsider right before he hit the pop jackpot. If the 1990s saw a surface-level revival of Gainsbourg the cult icon, today, his eternal return runs deeper.

GAINSBOURG, THE MAN WHO LOVED WOMEN

Sat/5, 2:30 p.m., Roxie;

Sun/6, 9:15 p.m., Roxie

www.sfindie.com

 

Two’s a crowd?

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Two’s a crowd?

The Companion Piece is a charmingly inventive new work of devised theater conceived by actor Beth Wilmurt and directed by Mark Jackson for Z Space. It unfolds as a series of arch “meta” vaudevillian routines by a frustrated long-time duo (played with uncommon chemistry and comedic finesse by Wilmurt and Christopher Kuckenbaker).

Companion is less a narrative-driven tale than a clever, frequently hilarious, and gently moving set of variations on certain themes. These include the need for companionship, the nature of artistic creation, and the fragile balance between egos desperate to assert themselves yet just as desperately bound to the support and sympathy of others. Wilmurt’s initial inspiration for the show was a scientific treatise on the nature of human connection, the 2000 bestseller A General Theory of Love, by psychiatrists Thomas Lewis, Fari Amini, and Richard Lannon. It’s appropriate that this world premiere runs to the very cusp of dreaded Valentine’s Day.

As often as not, Companion‘s themes develop through telling contrasts. The central one juxtaposes the two needy, half-bumbling performers — as they set about trying to forge their second-string act — with the deft, supremely self-confident solo headliner (played with a flawless, period-flavored, almost animatronic showbiz intensity by Jake Rodriguez). The headliner lives with a manic force exclusively for the few minutes he’s onstage — in a bizarre and well-honed routine delivered at the outset of the play and again at the end — shutting down into an enervated, shell-shocked state in between. The duo, whose high jinx account for the bulk of what we see, meanwhile remains most alive in the give-and-take of their zany, agonized creative process. That process may be forever incomplete, but it produces one captivating scene after another, often with the simplest of means: a sly sock-and-shoe puppet show inside a giant trunk is just one of many winning moments.

All this takes place on a cavernous, shadow-filled stage (courtesy of scenic designer Nina Ball), largely bare but for a grab bag of props — trampolines, musical instruments, toilet plungers, rubber chickens, and the like — and a large olio drop featuring a magnificent vintage-style portrait of the headliner, “the sensation of the stage.” There are also a set of doors in the far wall at the back of the stage, one conspicuously set about 10 feet off the ground, sort of Winchester Mystery House style, with a gold star painted on it. This door, it turns out, is accessible by one of two rolling metal staircases, which both become the inspiration for a gorgeously solemn, oddball waltz between the couple. The deceptively spare environment comes filled with other small surprises, as when Wilmurt’s character swings out from the wing on an industrial crane that slowly glides over the front rows of the audience.

There’s an eerie beauty to this theatrical undress, and the capacious sense of possibility mingling there in the shuffle and tussle of the performers. As they tirelessly ply their shtick and clamber for turf in the enveloping darkness (moodily broken up by Gabe Maxson’s lighting and poignantly underscored by Rodriguez’s evocative sound design), it comes to seem like their environment is no less than the muffling expanse of time and space itself.

In the end, the bracketing of the play’s action with a precise repetition of the headliner’s act does not diminish this impression of infinite negotiation. The headliner himself boasts, paradoxically, “I don’t open no shows, I don’t close no shows.” The lack of a strong narrative works to advantage here, as a way of further demystifying the theatrical conceit itself. As director Jackson suggests in his program note, the arc of a storyline is far too neat a device to contain all the indeterminacy and subtleties of this slipstream existence. The show goes on, as the headliner quips, “one night only — every night,” even if, as my companion that night suggested, we all ultimately “open” and “close” alone. 

THE COMPANION PIECE

Through Feb. 13; $20–$40

Z Space

450 Florida, SF

(800) 838-3006

www.zspace.org

 

Fried

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Fried

I don’t have a lot of pet peeves — that would break my lease. Other than, say, invading a country for no reason, making fun of people with mental illnesses and addictions, refusing to pay taxes because you think people of color are moochers, or ordering Uggs online, still, not much reliably gets my goat, ties it down with friendship bracelets and Danish dreadlocks, and forces it to listen to Ke$ha remixed by Tiësto while wearing Juicy Couture or Pink by Victoria’s Secret.  

Baaa.

I do however have an eensy beensy problem with fried food in bars. It may be because I recently quit smoking — farewell, dear Marlboro Man, please moisturize — but lately the combined and pungent waft of cheese-smothered freedom fries, bleachy bar-cleaning solution, and, heaven forfend, deep fried pickles (they have these at Truck in SoMa, they’re frickin’ delicious) makes me want to hurl rainbow Santorum. Could it be that I’m finally pregnant? We’ve tried so hard!

Alas, clouds of steamy trans fat, the unerotic kind, are what one must brave to enjoy Buck Tavern on Market Street, notorious for its new owner, former supervisor and mercurial rabble-rouser Chris Daly. It offers a full menu of yummily evil things whose scent can overpower the atmosphere. But other than that, and perhaps a slight overbrightness of lighting, I have no beef with the place. I’d been there before, when it was a sparsely occupied pool haunt (population: one large drag queen with a pool cue and a frightened-looking bartender) which served only beer and soju cocktails. Now, crowded with cute, diverse folks deep in interesting conversations, full call liquor bottles lining the wall, and the sound of cheerleaders screeching on the flatscreens, it feels downright cozy.

Others may fear clouds of a different sort — and yes this is a progressive wonk’s paradise. Daly can be found behind the bar many nights, and you’ll usually see some political player like John Avalos or Ross Mirkarimi or David Campos or “who the hell knows cuz they’re all slightly brown dudes with the same goatee-hair-tiny glasses thing going on” downing a well-priced pint. There’s even a spread-eagle copy of the Guardian to read over the urinal. (Aim high, haters.) But don’t worry, there’s no ideological purity check at the door, just a friendly sense of come-what-may. In fact, I think we may be witnessing the sudden materialization of some boisterous and idyllic parallel universe City Hall. With cheeseburgers, even!

BUCK TAVERN 1655 Market, SF. (415) 874-9183

 

PUPPY PILE

With newish monthly parties like Beatpig, Chickenbear, and OH! the Powerhouse is rapidly erasing its rep among queer youth as a bland haven for desperate cruisers into carnival techno and so-so blowjobs. This special benefit for Pets Are Wonderful Support brings together two of those parties, Chickenbear and OH! for a night of flying feathers (i.e., a bachelor auction) and rock ‘n’ roll hijinx.

Sat/5, 10 p.m., $5. Powerhouse, 1347 Folsom, SF. www.powerhouse-sf.com

 

PINK MAMMOTH SEVEN-YEAR ANNIVERSARY

I smell Burning Man! And it smells expensive. Luckily, I can enjoy some of the nuttier crews right now, for less than the price of one of the actual mammoths that scientists are hoping to clone this summer. (Imagine riding an actual mammoth onto the Playa. Imagine it with your mind!) So much glitch-funk, chunky techno, zen dubstep fun galore at the fuzzy pink tribe’s seventh hootenanny. Oh goddess, they have their own iPhone app and a hot dog bar. Nothing can stop them now.

Sat/5, 9 p.m.-late, $10–$15. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. www.pinkmammoth.org

 

EGYPTIAN LOVER

I don’t know if this is timely or not? Current events electro, people. The pioneer of electronic funk puts on one hell of a show, and has been jamming the box and rocking Planet Rock for like three decades now. He’ll be joined by Jaime Jupiter for a journey through the Electric Kingdom.

Sat/5, 10 p.m.-late, $20. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com

 

MISS HONEY

Fashion-addict club kids, runway voguing, hip-hop DJs in the stripper pole room, and NYC’s Miss Honey Dijon on the main turntables. Work it out.

Sat/5, 10 p.m., $10. Supperclub, 647 Harrison, SF. www.supperclub.com

Panabay rising

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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4
Panabay rising

MUSIC Last year was a big one for Los Rakas. The Oakland-by-way-of-Panama duo, Raka Rich and Raka Dun, have been hustling their frenetic Panabay stylings since they banded together as high school students in 2005. But on the cusp of their second mixtape, La Tanda Del Bus, the arresting diversity of their influences and musical ideas began to coalesce. The far reaches of the blogosphere and the streets took notice.

Los Rakas’ “Abrazame” — a song reworked from Gyptian’s crossover hit “Hold You” and remixed into sure shot form by Brooklyn producer Uproot Andy — overcrowded year-end lists as the pinnacle summer jam of 2010. In the video, parallel love stories unfold and collapse over the backdrop of San Francisco’s Carnaval Festival. Shuffling polyrhythms swarm underneath simple Casio chords as Raka Rich moves effortlessly from trading syrupy verses with guest songstress Faviola to bursts of rapid-fire lyricism.

Meanwhile, the video for Los Rakas’ “Soy Raka” — a youthful ode to turfin’ in the streets of Oakland — has surpassed 250,000 hits on YouTube. What other rap groups spit a chorus like “Tengo mi pistola y diente de oro” on the same playlist as a sweltering love ballad? The video not only helped spawn the syncopated dance movement in Panama, but also inspired kids to prefix their names with Raka — “you know, like Raka Miguel” — Dun tells me excitedly in a thick Spanish accent. “In Panama, ‘That’s raka’ or ‘We’re from raka’ means ‘that’s ghetto’ or ‘we’re from the ghetto.’ But it’s an empowering term. It means that we’re proud of who we are and where we come from.”

This sort of community-centered spirit has inspired Los Rakas since the beginning of its rhapsodic ventures. In 2006, Rich and Dun released their first Panabay Twist mixtape with the help and studio support of local outreach organizations Youth Uprising, BUMP (Bay Unity Music Project), and Youth Movement Records. Its single, “Mi Barrio,” in many ways a precursor to the anthemic “Soy Raka,” is driven by the standard hip-hop commandment to represent where you’re from. But the song also honors a more difficult and subtle hip-hop ideal: one love. Los Rakas might boast about Oakland and Panama stomping grounds, but the duo also calls out for us to be “orgulloso and put your flag in the air.” Which flag, exactly?

“Oakland influenced us,” says Dun, who moved to the Bay when he was 14. “It didn’t just shape our instrumentals and lyrical style, from Zion I to E-40—Oakland has the history of the Black Panthers and politicism, so we naturally put that content in our music too.”

Los Rakas sound a bit different from, say, any other Bay Area rapper, because Rich and Dun’s music is informed by the infectious rhythms and punctuated Spanish flows heard in Panama’s pop music of the day, plena. A sprawling folk genre that originated in the Caribbean and related regions of Central America, plena has recently been digitized for a new generation, becoming a Panamanian spin on reggaeton.

But the influences don’t stop there. “In Panama we listen to all types of music: reggae, dancehall, salsa, meringue,” says Dun. “When I met Rico, he was listening to Tupac and we traded music. Hip-hop caught my attention fast. I found out about Tribe [Called Quest], Lil Kim, Nas. I researched where it came from, and how it evolved, and just fell in love with it.” Although the connections aren’t obvious at first, hip-hop and plena have a lot in common. They’re both hybrid genres, forms of pastiche that draw from a wide range of sonic traditions and background, computerizing folk and funk for the bass-hungry children of the always-evolving soundsystem.

Unsurprisingly, Los Rakas garnered attention from an emerging scene of enthusiasts, producers, DJs, writers, and musicians concerned with the musical diaspora of the Afro-Caribbean, or more acutely, what British sociologist Paul Gilroy has called the Black Atlantic. The term denotes the webbed network of the African diaspora culture that is not so much organized by a clear conception of roots but by a rhizomatic set of exchanges and networks: migrations, ships, trade, Creole, European miscegenation, flights, origin myths, stories of repatriation, and now the most diffusive cross-cultural exchange device of them all, the Internet.

Keep in mind that 2010 was the year that Diplo and Switch’s over-the-top dancehall project, Major Lazer, took clubs by storm, and even Rihanna finally started reppin’ roots, rhythm, and wires with “Rude Boy” and multicolored neon booty shorts. Even if MIA’s third full-length was lackluster, something of her world-town swagger has penetrated our times, while her “Bird Flu” call to arms has circulated through our quickly multiplying musical economies. Check the formula: add world genre to rap and uptempo dancehall/Bmore/house/techno; reconfigure percussion patterns in a drum machine; loop melodic fragments of a regional instrument; add inner-city noise, gunshots, chants, or field recordings of aggressive animal life; manipulate with a swill of static, fuzz, and a heavy dose of low end. Bump loud. Call it third world democracy.

Los Rakas, without even asking for it, has popped up in countless mixes and blog posts loosely labeled under the category of tropical bass. Rich and Dun contributed the steady banger “Afro Latino” to the recent Banana Clipz EP, produced by tropical harbingers Chief Boima and Ora 11 of Bersa Discos, and released on their Ghetto Bassquake blog and upstart. Speaking of Bersa, it hosts the crazy monthly Tormenta Tropical, which spotlights new sounds of electro-cumbia and related frontiers arising from the Black Atlantic. “That movement, I’m not sure what to call it, embraced us,” says Dun. It only makes sense that Los Rakas — navigating Oakland and Panama, turfin’ and plena, hiphop and digital polyrhythms, the new and the old — has returned the favor.

AUDYSSEY PRESENTS THE NEIGHBORHOOD: LOS RAKAS

with Roach Gigz

Wed/2, 9 p.m.–-2 a.m.; free

111 Minna Gallery

111 Minna, SF

(415) 974-1719

www.111minnagallery.com

alt.sex.column: Flash dance

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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1
alt.sex.column: Flash dance

Dear Readers:

In the high and far off times, there were these smeary newsprint tabloid “lifestyle” papers that had a few columns in the front and then the rest was nothing but tiny, poorly-printed personals ads looking, for kinky sex, right now, very few questions asked. Most were illustrated with what might have been part of a cartoon of an elephant, shot head on, but were actually close-ups of the advertiser’s no longer private private parts.

No matter how ready and eager to go RIGHT NOW you might be feeling some particular evening, would you pick a sex partner based entirely upon a blurry photo of his junk? No? I mean, even while looking for, say, a penis, don’t you need more than a picture of a penis on which to base your decision?

Let’s say you’re not looking for a penis. I mean, you are, but you’re hoping it arrives attached to a person. So you place or answer an ad (online this time) and eagerly open the e-mail that arrives in response and — SURPRISE — out jumps … the weenus. You shriek and hit, appropriately, the “junk” button and remove the person from your list of possible persons of interest, and maybe are a little less keen to open the next one.

This may have been the right response — if what they’re looking for is the same reaction your old-fashioned dark-alley flasher is usually after: shock and fear. Most purveyors of nonconsensual exhibition are seeking a sense of power over their startled (almost invariably female)witnesses. It’s an act of (small, pathetic) aggression, penis mightier than the sword, that sort of thing. If it happens to you, remember to laugh.

But what of those who are not hoping to frighten, but to woo? On the odd chance that anyone’s reading this who actually has sent out an unsolicited dick-shot while trying to get girl to like him, I offer a friend’s description of how she reacts when she would like to be your friend and then you go do something stupid like send her a big unsolicited picture of your wang: “I was chatting with someone from OKCupid and he asked if I wanted a more recent picture and I said sure and bam! full-frontal nudity.

My feeling when this first happened was gross-out. Other feelings I’ve had other times: anger, jadedness, shame-on-me-they-got-me-again-ness, and finally, “Hey, well, maybe that turns them on to send nakey pics to a stranger, so I hope they got something out of it because I certainly didn’t. I don’t walk up to someone in a pub and introduce myself just so he can whip his cock out right there and then, and so that same thing turns me off when it happens online.”

This has been a public service announcement.

Love,

Andrea

Got a sex question? Email Andrea at andrea@mail.altsexcolumn.com

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