PREVIEW There ought to be a name for the ecstatic genre of drag where the drag queen whirls and twirls more than she lipsynchs, points, or occasionally stalks across the stage. I’m thinking of when the svelte Varla Jean Merman swings from the rafters or any number of Southern man-belles ringading-ding a song home in a whirlwind of wig-tossing backflips. Acrotranny? Choreodrag? Whatever it is, the fabulously kinetic Edie has made it her own. She’s not only the aerobiqueen It Girl — she’s That Girl with a puffed-out Marlo Thomas ‘do, ass-high spangled shifts that showcase extraordinary legs in blurry strut-kick action, and a forest-fire smile that says "No!" but means "Yes?" Edie’s style can best be described as showgirl cocktail hour, a wry martini with a fruity umbrella that blends Audrey Hepburn cigarette-holder chic, frantic backup dancer shimmy, and occasional bursts of Cyd Charisse and Doris Day. (Yes, she sings.) After her act’s several breathless climaxes, you’re never sure whether to offer her an Eames chair or a Twister mat. It all comes on with a slightly demented edge: Mama misses her barbiturates. Edie’s Internet Boom–era run of performances at Mecca are now legendary — she was the perfect drag avatar of those status-drunk, screwy ultralounge times. After a successful stint with Cirque Du Soleil’s sensuous Zumanity in Las Vegas, she’s popping back into town to blow our Web 2.0 fedoras off. Grab your gimlets.
EDIE Rrazz Room, Hotel Nikko, 222 Mason, San Francisco. Fri/8, 10:30pm. $25. (415) 394-1189, www.therrazzroom.com