Tech Archives — Page 37 of 48 — San Francisco Bay Guardian Archive 1966

Editorial: No tax breaks for Twitter

-

February 1, 2011

Twitter, the company that gave the world 140-character communications, is threatening to leave San Francisco and take 350 employees to a new headquarters in Brisbane. City officials are nervous — losing a world famous high-tech outfit that has plans to double its workforce in the next few years would be a blow to the city’s reputation as a technology incubator.

So the Mayor’s Office of Economic Development is scrambling to cut a deal, and the latest plans call for a payroll tax exemption that would cap the company’s future tax bills at $250,000. Twitter’s looking at office space on Ninth and Market streets, an area that needs an economic boost, and the supervisors — particularly Jane Kim, who represents that district — will be under immense pressure to sign off on the deal. In fact, Kim told us that Twitter has delivered a very clear message: either give us the tax break or we’ll leave.

Bowing to that pressure would set a terrible precedent. The supervisors should say no.

Companies threaten local governments all the time, demanding zoning concessions, tax breaks, infrastructure upgrades and all sorts of other handouts, and typically they announce that tax relief is central to where they set up shop. In reality, the economics of business location decisions rarely hinge on local taxes. Greg Leroy, the author of the 2004 book The Great American Jobs Scam: Corporate Tax Dodging and the Myth of Job Creation, cites a study showing that the cost of labor and transportation generally account for around 75 percent of the factors that drive business location decisions; taxes are less than 4 percent.

In Twitter’s case, the payroll tax will be a tiny part of the price of leasing and moving into a new office that can accommodate significant growth. Payroll tax data is confidential, but it’s not hard to make rough estimates. Twitter has abut 350 employees now, and if they make an average of, say, $70,000 a year (reasonable in a high-tech firm), then the company payroll is about $24.5 million a year, and the city’s 1.5 percent tax comes to $294,000. At its current level of employment, the tax cut would be almost nothing.

Even if Twitter doubles its workforce, the amount it would save with the city’s proposed tax break is only about $300,000 a year (the cost of two or three high-end employees out of the 350 the company wants to hire). If Twitter moves into the 200,000-square-foot space it’s eyeing in Brisbane (sharing an office, reports say, with Walmart — how cutting edge!) and pays $25 a square foot in rent (probably low for nice office space), rent alone will be $8 million a year. Then there’s the cost of all those workers driving (or taking a private bus) to a location badly served by transit. The payroll tax liability in San Francisco is tiny in comparison.

So this isn’t an economic decision. It’s corporate blackmail, the kind San Francisco sees all too often. “It’s like this every time,” Sup. John Avalos, who opposes the tax break, told us. “It’s a race to the bottom.”

Making it worse, the city can’t legally give a tax break just to Twitter — the break would have to cover all companies either in a business sector or in a specific geographic zone. So the supervisors would either have to give tax breaks to a lot of other tech companies or, more likely, give the break to everyone moving into the Mid-Market area. That increases the cost to the city — and creates an odd situation. Under the Twitter proposal, big companies with big payrolls would get a break and small businesses would get nothing. (Black Rock LLC, which runs Burning Man, is also looking at space in Mid-Market, and the city’s not offering that outfit — which employs 30 people and has an annual payroll of $3 million — any tax breaks.)

Frankly, there’s no fair way to make this work. Any plan that does what Twitter wants will either benefit big companies at the expense of small ones, benefit new arrivals to the district at the expense of existing businesses, or cost the city so much money that it would be ridiculous.

We agree that the tech sector is an important part of the economy and that Twitter creates jobs in town and ought to stay here. But once you go down the path of caving in to corporate blackmail, it never ends.

Aerial revolution

Andrew Lam

-

January 31, 2011

0

Consider the rise of the extreme athlete: generations of youngsters (and increasingly, brave older folks) competing to see who could pull the sweetest stunts and survive. Ever wonder how is it that a person can make the transition from earthbound and bipedal to gravity-be-damned dare-devilry? When exactly is the moment that a skater, skier, or snowboarder just lets go and trusts their body to take them up, over, around, and (hopefully) gracefully down to the ground?

Last Tuesday, I attended a press event at House of Air – the newest member of Crissy Field’s collection of renovated airplane hangars in San Francisco’s historic Presidio – where I was treated to a glimpse of how such a transformation might become reality. Not to mention a new way that a public sports facility can play with its community.

Given the Presidio’s military history, you may have been tempted to think the newly opened space at 926 Mason is home to helicopters and jets. But the pilots in House of Air aren’t crew-cutted cadets, and the only high-tech equipment in the corrugated steel hangar is an impressive array of custom-made trampolines. Every day in this house-of-bounce, tomorrow’s extreme sportsters are earning their wings – and there isn’t a major commander in sight.

House of Air is the brainchild of Dave Schaeffer and Paul McGeehan, two extreme sports aficionados who trained together on the Lake Tahoe snowboarding circuit. Their concept was helped off the ground (so to speak) by former Olympic skier Jonny Moseley. All three use trampolines to perfect their aerial artistry, and could commiserate over the difficulty of finding a facility where they could train with their respective equipment. According to Moseley, who raised eyebrows as a youth by flipping over his skis in a gymnastics studio, trampolines were few and far-between and most were used for coaching gymnasts and tumblers.

Large-scale trampolines provide the air time necessary for an athlete to teach his body to do tricks like corkscrews and 360s, serving as crucial incubators before a pro takes to the water, pavement, or snow with a new trick. But until House of Air, the idea of a dedicated facility for extreme athletes was unheard of. Now, the studio fills the void with over 2,000 square feet of trampoline space where serious athletes can perfect their skills in a safe (and soft) environment – and where, I was thrilled to find, even the not-so-extreme can have a blast.

House of Air provides lessons to beginners and more serious students of all ages. Instructors with backgrounds in everything from professional snowboarding to circus acrobatics use a specially designed high-performance trampoline deck to teach techniques to budding athletes. The center’s growing team also supervises two segmented jumping arenas, each about the size of a regulation basketball court, complete with angled trampoline enclosures that extend the bounce factor right up the walls. The facility also includes a kiddy bounce house for the younger set, special event rooms, lockers, and showers.

An average person arriving on the scene would begin their foray into the art of flight by checking out a pair of special House of Air shoes – modified wrestling shoes that provide ankle support. They would then have the option of renting some basic bounce time, participating in an organized game (think P.E. classics gone crazy: dodgeball or volleyball are both served up with a side of spring), or taking a class on the foundations of flying, which is where I wound up bouncing on my visit.

I was a bit apprehensive (read: terrified) as Moseley ushered me up to the trampoline deck and demonstrated a few tricks. He flopped through some sick twists, turns, and flips without missing a beat in our conversation. Then it was my turn.

Our intrepid reporter takes to the air at SF’s bounce palace. Photo courtesy of Jonny Moseley

I started with the aptly named “butt-drop”: a move in which the trampolinist replaces a single bounce with a fall on their bum and then – this is the crucial part – returns to her feet without missing a beat. After that, I moved onto “swivel-hips,” wherein the butt-drop is supplemented by a 180 degree revolution on the up-swing. For my final trick, I tried my hand at the sequence that leads up to a front flip: a jump, a fall to all fours, and then a forward rotation that landed me flat on my back. All in all, I wasn’t quite ready for the X Games, but it was killer on the knees and had my quads burning. I had new respect for the little groms busting board-grabs and aerials — and for the brave adults who come to House of Air for the “air conditioning” classes and company team-building sessions. Trampoline dodgeball: a fantastic way to build office camaraderie, or at the very least a good excuse to pummel that passive-aggressive co-worker with a deluge of flying foam rubber.

Final impressions from the House of Air? Besides the sore thighs, of course? The center seems to be re-thinking the role of the public sports facility, from its boardrooms for the business set to its specially-manufactured props that emulate sports equipment for practicing athletes, like lightweight foam snowboards and a tow rope akin to what a wakeboarder would utilize on the waves. Even the layout of the building itself, which makes use of those large hangar doors to provide jumpers with such an excellent view of the bay one gets the feeling that with one wild leap one might land in the waves, helps to make House of Air a unique resource for the SF community.

Given the chance to train in a facility like this one as a child, Moseley says he would have been thrilled – and possibly less banged-up in the bargain. “This is the way kids learn to be professionals — without getting hurt.”

House of Air, 926 Mason, SF. (415) 345-9675, www.houseofairsf.com

Editor’s Notes

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

January 25, 2011

2

tredmond@sfbg.com

This is how strange things are in the world:

I read a piece on SFGate Jan. 21, by an editor named David Curran, who claimed (in that kind of “wow-I’m-funny” tone) that young people should stop trying to be doctors and college professors. Instead, he says, he wants to “quietly sneak our kids into some midlevel bureaucrat position where they can hang out for decades, get decent vacation, loads of holidays, and, yes, face a few pay cuts and furlough days because in the end they hit the pension jackpot!” Of course, those jobs are easy, since all public employees are stupid and lame: “Whenever the kids take forever to set the table, I get a little angry and they reply, ‘But dad, we’re just getting ready for our future job at the DMV!'”

Three days later, I picked up the Jan. 22 edition of The Economist and read a flattering profile about a group called Tiger 21 — “A self-help group for rich people.”

“Only those with more than $10 million of investable assets are eligible for membership, so no one assumes that, just because you have truckloads of cash, your problems are trivial. Whether you are worried that your kids might turn out like Paris Hilton, or fed up with your brother in law who wants to borrow money for the umpteenth time, someone in the room has faced a similar problem before.”

And The Economist writer wasn’t joking.

I worry so much about the poor rich. I’ve read all those stories about lottery winners who are suddenly miserable, and I think, nah. Long-term unemployment makes you miserable. The prospect of reaching old age in poverty makes you miserable. Being forced into a Medicare nursing home because the visiting nurse who allowed you to be independent lost his job in budget cuts makes you miserable. Dealing with too much money? It’s not the same. It’s really not.

The very rich have problems too, I’m sure — but if I had to choose between cat food and Paris Hilton, I think I could handle Paris just fine.

Or I could just blame all of society’s problems on the folks who work at Caltrans and the DMV. After all, middle class people with pensions that give them a decent retirement are such a burden on society. And such a waste! People who work for the government can’t do anything right. When’s the last time you had a good experience registering your car?

Well, I’ve waited in line at the DMV, and I’ve waited on hold with those efficient private-sector tech companies, and I’ll take the DMV any day. My son just bought a computer game that didn’t load; at 4:02 in the afternoon, I called Electronic Arts tech support, which was supposedly open until 5. At 4:05, I was fifth in the queue; at 4:56, I was second in the queue. At 4:59:57, the line went dead. Sorry, sucker — we close at five.

Comcast: efficient private sector. The wait to exchange your cable box when it doesn’t work is far, far worse than anything any government bureaucracy has ever thrown at me.

Somehow, somebody’s missing the point here.

The music library

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

January 11, 2011

1

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC “They wanna give you it all at the library.”

Dade Elderon’s come up with a perfect promotional catchphrase for the SF Public Library’s Main Branch. We’re IMing about the library, where he sets up his gear and writes and records songs on a 9-to-5 schedule. “One part of the library is a very high-tech, clean learning environment. It’s a temple. Then you go down to the [first-floor] bathroom and it’s like a dirty, filthy circus. There is a lot going on in that bathroom. Every stall is a different challenge.”

A few days later, I meet Elderon on the library’s fourth floor. As is his practice, he’s reserved one of the private rooms and has set up his equipment, most notably a Korg Electribe EMX-1 and ESX-1. “This is what I bring to the library — I have a [Roland] TR-606 and other gear at home and at a friend’s house,” he says, handing me a spare pair of headphones. “I use this [the ESX-1] strictly as a drum machine, and load up different sounds depending on what kind of song I want to make. I program the melodies on the EMX-1 because if you run too many parts at once on the ESX-1, it will make the sound muddy.”

For the next half-hour, Elderon — long bangs spilling out from the right side of his SF Giants cap — gives me a brief tutorial, explaining polycyclic wave forms, saw waves, and different hi-hats while running through a variety of sounds, from hip-hop to trance to freestyle. Sitting with him, I can see how the room, with its soundproof clear glass and stylish card-catalog wallpaper, is an ideal readymade recording studio. “I really like the tables and the glass setup,” Elderon says. “It’s peaceful. Sometimes people will stand outside with a ‘What are you doing?’ look on their faces, but I just ignore it. I don’t know what people might think these things [the Electribes] are — some people are suspicious of them, maybe.”

Contrary to a paranoiac’s sense of appearance, Elderon isn’t working with explosives, though he is hoping some of his projects will blow up. Party Effects, the Oakland techno bass crew he helped figurehead, has disbanded, and these days he’s working with a number of different recording artists. “This is a track I’m making with Dz MC’s, a Brazilian freestyle singer,” he says, as a percolating, skittering melody dances around a haunted-sounding female vocal.

Along with Dz MC’s, who has a following in Brazil, Elderon has been making tracks with aspiring Stateside singers such as Gloria Hernandez, a local vocalist whose voice possesses freestyle-ready sass and snap, and Nikki Marx, whose sexy photos and real-life story have intrigued Elderon and his roommate and former Party Effects partner, Alexis Penney. “She’s German, lives in New York City, and works on Wall Street as a day trader,” Elderon explains, as we look at some of Marx’s provocative photos. “Alexis is obsessed with her, and we can’t figure her out.”

At the moment, Elderon is also in the early stages of some remix projects for 679 Artists, a Warner Music Group label based in London that represents Little Boots, Marina and the Diamonds, and Streets. Along with his other roommate, Myles Cooper, he’s also contributing a track to an upcoming album by H.U.N.X., the “gayest music ever” electropop side project of Hunx and His Punx’s Seth Bogart. “I guess Myles’s idea is to make the most annoying song anyone has ever made, and I think he’s doing it,” Elderon says appreciatively. “Seth and I are making a gay freestyle song. He wants it to be over the top. I sampled him making a bunch of sex noises, and I’m going to sprinkle them throughout the track.”

Elderon’s adept way with genre suits one of his recording monikers, Adeptus. He chose the name because — along with invoking “to attain” in Latin, a quest he likens to Afrika Bambaataa’s search for the perfect beat — he likes its “Gothic, occult, and dark-sounding” qualities. On the one hand, he’s a fan of Ace of Base’s 1990s Euro dance pop — in fact, he’s competing against eight other remixers in an Ace of Base-sponsored contest in which the person who comes up with the best mix of “The Sign” wins a car. But on his own tracks, he’s drawn to seductive somber sounds. As he puts it, “I’m attracted to minor scales.”

The public library as a recording studio and potential pop gold mine — it’s all in a day’s music-making for Elderon, who cut his teeth recording with the eccentric, literally offbeat Tarythyas in Party Effects. “His bedroom is the craziest room I’ve ever been in,” Elderon says, when asked to describe Tarythyas’s home dwelling. “There’s no less than 20 to 30 fish tanks in the room, all lit up. There are crazy toys and lights everywhere, and six different computer workstations.”

The strange is familiar to Elderon, whose past includes a military stint and studies in cellular microbiology, and whose current day job involves flying to Turkey once a month to rescue street animals for a fledgling animal-rights crusader in Beverly Hills. He shows me some passports of pets he’s recently flown back to the U.S., including a cat that possesses a mack’s satisfied smile. “The animals freak out on the plane, so they give me a ketamine spray,” he says.

For now, Elderon is the one traveling, but he’s hoping his music will be going international soon as well. At one point he describes Turkey as a “nexus of weird cultures,” and the same description could be applied to his music, which has pop immediacy, but allows room for wild personality. He’s out to attain something special, and it’s just beginning to materialize.

Funk phenomenon

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

January 4, 2011

0

One of the most influential, and underreported, trends of San Francisco nightlife in the past few years has been the feisty reinvigoration of the jazz scene. Yoshi’s Fillmore, which opened in 2007, finally seemed to settle into its giant digs in that historic district — and, despite fears to the contrary, didn’t crowd out the stellar, more established jazz joints around it like Rasselas and Sheba Lounge. It also helped expand the traditional jazz palate into famously funkier territory — this month at Yoshi’s boasts the Ohio Players, The Family Stone, War, George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic, and Public Enemy with a live band. (What, no full orchestra? Flava Flav needs some glockenspiel.)

Also recently, San Francisco sent its huge and hip Jazz Mafia collective around the country performing uptempo “hip-hop symphony” Brass, Bows, and Beats. Unfortunately the Mafia’s homebase, Coda, closed on the first of this year — along with another beloved club, Triple Crown — citing the economic climate, but the supper club valiantly kept true to its live jazz mission to the end and shimmied with packed aficionados. Club Verde’s spunky Tuesday Night Jump! (Tuesdays, 9 p.m., $12. 2424 Mariposa, SF. www.oldtimey.net/tuesdays) with live band Stompy Jones revived that classic SF rockabilly swing vibe. Meanwhile, over at Martuni’s piano bar (4 Valencia, SF. 415-241-0205) near the Castro, a new generation seemed to discover its inner Sondheim, tipsily belting a few out ’round the gleaming ebonies and ivories. Send in those damn clowns already, Jesus.

That jazzy hometown spirit of expanding definitions and embracing the musical past as a living thing, not just some retro curiosity frozen into easily marketed poses, has graced other scenes as well. Even as you’re funking hard on the floor to some old school disco cuts or electronic productions, it’s hard not to hear echoes of jazz’s open-minded complexity working somewhere in the background.

And one of the parties I’ve funked hardest at lately has been Loose Joints (Fridays, 10 p.m., $5. MakeOut Room, 3225 22nd St., SF. www.makeoutroom.com). Let me be clear: Loose Joints isn’t a jazz club — although on a recent visit, DJ Tom Thump expertly melted London all-horn ensemble Brassroots’ 2010 New Orleans-leaning version of Inner City’s 1988 Detroit techno classic “Good Life” into Bill Withers’ Hammond-driven soul stomper “Harlem” from 1971. (At that point along my night’s journey, I needed a new pair of hotpants.) It’s more of an improvisational, all-vinyl DJ jam session that uses classic funk as its departure point. Hitting a tuneful sweet spot neither too familiar nor too abstract, Loose Joints has one of the best brain-to-feet ratios in the city: music nerds will dance their tight glasses off, straight-up partiers will discover where all those groovy samples come from.

The core trio of DJs at the heart of Loose Joints is a wild combination, rotating rapidly behind the tables. Founder Tom Thump digs deep into the wide-ranging, rarity-seeking global funk scene that brings to mind great DJs like Greg Wilson and Gilles Peterson (especially Peterson’s Brownswood Recordings project). Damon Bell reps Oakland’s fantastic, proudly abstract Deepblak techno scene, with a soulful Afro-Cuban twist. (Don’t sleep on his “multiple mind-space” Kush Musik series on Deepblak Recordings, www.deepblakmusic.com.) And DJ Centipede, who helps put on the headiest club going right now, Change the Beat (Tuesdays, 9 p.m., free. SOM, 2925 16th St., SF. www.som-bar.com), brings a future bass and experimental low-end background to the proceedings. Somehow they average out into a completely accessible and danceable entity.

“We are a strange triumvirate,” Thump told me. “I planned that, it was by design. I’ve known Centipede for years, when he used come into [Haight Street record store] Groove Merchant. So talented and unique. And I saw Damon play at [now-closed Panhandle club] Poleng one night a few years ago and was blown away by his soulful tunes. We are just one of my serendipitous flights of fancy.”

“Loose Joints” itself is a sly wink toward the experimental-made-accessible, a name cribbed by Damon from left-field dance music hero Arthur Russell’s popular side project, which put out the 1980 hit “Is It All Over My Face.” It also refers to the loose style the trio applies to mixing their vinyl cuts. (They leave other, more elevating interpretations to the imagination.)

The party is put on well from a practical standpoint, although the MakeOut Room’s layout is a bit strangulating near the door and it could use another person or two behind the bar. Because the MakeOut hosts live acts earlier in the evening, you’ll encounter a thrilling grab-bag of leftover patrons. The crowd is comfortable and open, dancing itself into frenzy. (When I dropped by last month, there was a gaggle of super-hot boys and girls grappling each other woozily to the floor, which was just fine. But watch where you step.) The strip of 22nd Street between Shotwell and Valencia has really taken on a European plaza air of late, with several bars and cafes spilling over with exuberant sophisticates. We need to ban cars there. And there’s also a healthy dose of newbie tech types — including the one in front of me in line who couldn’t believe the door guy wouldn’t take Visa for the $5 cover.

“San Francisco is so fucking beautifully diverse, that’s why the party goes so hard,” Centipede told me. “All types of life dancing to the same bassline.” Thump said: “There are a lot of people into funky sounds right now — from 1960s girl groups and Latin disco to post-punk and newer Afro-electro. We’re here to give all those a push. A sexy push.”

LOOSE JOINTS TOP TUNES

Mim Sulieman (with Maurice Fulton), “Mingi”

Suzy Q, “Can’t Give You Love (Persnickety All Stars Edit)”

The Fatback Band, “Wicky Wacky”

Bohannon, “Me And The Gang”

Fight club

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

December 21, 2010

0

arts@sfbg.com

FILM Late in Boxing Gym, a pungent documentary even for Frederick Wiseman, an old-timer says something wise to his friend while lacing up. The friend doesn’t see the point of analogies. Our man admits that some only work on an intellectual level, but insists that others make intuitive sense of abstraction — the right metaphor can make all the difference in getting a particular movement. It’s hard to imagine that Wiseman would still be making his films if he didn’t think the same held true for a motion picture sequence.

Good thing, since boxing has been made to shoulder an awful lot of Hollywood hooey. Not much has changed since Manny Farber, writing in 1949, decried fight pictures for being “tightly humorless and supersaturated with worn-out morality … pure fantasy in so far as capturing the pulse of the beak-busting trade.” Wiseman isn’t interested in the trade so much as the discipline — though the big time’s spectacular images are plastered around the old-school Texas club. And yet even if Boxing Gym shrugs at the competitive elements of the sport, Wiseman’s squat compositions tune in the unglamorous business of keeping your dukes up when tired — the kind of matter-of-fact physical truth professional actors howl for.

By releasing Boxing Gym immediately after La Danse (2009), Wiseman ensures his own comparisons. The choreographer-dancer and trainer-boxer tandems are aligned not only in fancy footwork (Wiseman’s too), but also in their mirror-stretched studios. There are differences, of course — one can’t help but think of the Paris Ballet’s fundraising efforts when Richard Lord, the dexterous trainer-manager of the gym, explains membership dues. Perhaps because Wiseman is not beholden to an institutional cycle of rehearsals and performances in Boxing Gym, it’s the purer distillation of a kinetic education.

Watch Wiseman’s films together, and you’ll realize that different spaces register silence differently. The filmmaker’s musical ear is richly apparent in Boxing Gym‘s gloved rhythms and concrete echoes, to say nothing of the entrancing pendulum swings of side-by-side workouts. As in La Danse, Wiseman emulates the concentration of his subjects, but here he also picks up on their loose camaraderie in conversations about joblessness, the joy of getting hit and, closest to the bone, the Virginia Tech killings. The gym is still a masculine space, but one in which women (and children) are a significant presence. For more on the evolution of gender and “training,” one might well consult the filmmaker’s own catalog: Basic Training (1971), Manoeuvre (1979), and Missile (1987). Wiseman’s gym is finally a gathering place, one with atmosphere and history (and hardly any headphones) — all the more reason to see it in a movie theater.

BOXING GYM opens Wed/22 at the Roxie.

#thechampisherethechampishere

Andrew Lam

-

December 19, 2010

0

The white collar brawlers had their final showdown on Friday. Nate won, in case you were interested in the two tech guys who put their geekiness on parodic center stage. Kai Hasson and Nate Houghteling (a former SFBG intern, heyyy!) quit their startup jobs to start producing a web series a few months ago: White Collar Brawler, which was about training to beat the crap out of each other in the boxing ring. Which they did — kind of, no broken noses or nothing — last week at Berkeley’s WestWind karate school in front of a packed crowd.

My god, the footwork! Granted, I’m no “boxing expert,” but their jabs – well look, the two only started training three months ago, it’s unkind to pass judgements on their future prize fighting careers. But they looked like they could be great tech workers!

Hasson and Houghteling’s relative gangliness wouldn’t have been so front and center had the audience not just watched five bouts of more seasoned boxers – an undercard of mostly younger cats that train in clubs around the greater Bay Area. It was actually pretty funny to compare also the different demographics present in the gym audience. Yuppies attired in accordance with the event’s “dress to impress” mandate (think bow ties and flapper dresses) mingled with families who had come to support their man or woman in the opening bouts.

Definitely makes you consider the opposition of office and boxing culture, which Hasson and Houghteling’s series neatly illustrates with their segueway between the two. A WCB episode in November saw employees from Zynga, Twitter, and other Bay web giants strap on the gloves themselves to hash out the most knockout ‘net company, to haphazard results. “There’s something really refreshing about it – the fact you can use your hands to punch people in the face,” said Hasson as his coach Angelo Merino taped those hands in his locker room-green room prior to his bout. A few feet away, the television crew messed with laptops and levels in preparation of their role for the evening.

Merino, who has been the head coach at University of San Francisco for 20 years and a consultant for his home country the Philippines’ national team, barely paused making loops with the athletic tape around Hasson’s hand to tell me the biggest difference between the Houghteling-Hasson showdown. From his perspective. It lay in a good night’s rest.

“Normally before a big match I won’t sleep for nights, I’ll be so worried,” he said. Merino, a veteran of 61 bouts in the ring himself, slept soundly last week. His comfort probably speaks to the fact that, even though the cameras were on and the match would be watched by everyone Hasson and Houghteling know, in a way they’re less bound up to the outcome than many of the “real” boxers also fighting that night. After all, by the end of the day they’re still white collar, even if they are technically speaking, brawlers now too.

But it wasn’t Gerald Rustia’s debut in the ring and by all indicators it was far from his last time there. Rustia, a tall, muscled man with a shaved head, trains as a light heavyweight at Kennel Boxing in San Leandro. He had the night’s sole knockout that took Blood Bath Boxing‘s Daizon Gilkerson down in the third round. Rustia had seen Hasson and Houghteling training in his gym (his pre-bout prediction was Sasson for the win, btw), had caught perhaps one of their webisodes on the White Collar Brawler website, and was perfectly content to treat the bout as one between fellow – if beginning – boxers. “Kai’s the smarter one in the ring. He’s taller, and he’s going to be able to use his reach in the ring,” he told me, still beaming from his own good-looking use of reach.

It was a little hard to see the parity from the stands, though. Certainly the punches weren’t landing quite as hard around middleweight Houghteling and Hasson’s headgear and their footwork – well it was pretty fancy footwork. Ah. And the two’s entrance into the ring in matching satin robes, Hasson’s in blue and Houghteling’s red, coupled with the accompanying exponentially louder crowd reaction underlined the irony that their match was the least technically adept of the evening. When the bell rang to signal the end of their final round, what looked like the standard boxing move of using one’s opponent for support in the worn-down end of the fight melted into a loving hug between the two men, easily the only instance of such tenderness between the evening’s competitors. “You just gotta approach it as a joyous occasion,” Houghteling had confided in me at the night’s outset.

But maybe Merino and company will make real boxers of them yet. Both ex-techies told me it’s not unthinkable that White Collar Brawler will go into a second season – Hasson all but confirmed it when he yelped “I want a rematch” into two mics (one apparently wasn’t enough to capture the moment) after Houghteling’s name was announced as the winner.

Or maybe they’ll move onto some other, equally transmorphic cultural experiment. “We just wanna keep going, we just wanna tell new stories on the web,” said Hasson, still mid-hand tape – proving that those who thrill from the ring need not be mutually exclusive from those jonesing for a roundhouse page view count.

Churn, churn, churn

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

December 14, 2010

2

marke@sfbg.com

YEAR IN MUSIC “But not this time. This is our time. This time you’re going to hand them a business card that says ‘I’m CEO … bitch!’ “

Thus screams Napster founder Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake) to Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) during the hilarious club scene in this year’s seminal The Social Network. They’re supposedly at a space in the Mission (actually L.A.’s Exchange club) in 2004, a horridly stereotypical affair featuring bland industrial architecture, a dance floor full of blonde “woo!” girls in black cocktail dresses, writhing go-go gals with pink boas, oversized martini glasses, illuminated cocktail tables, coke sniffles…. You know, the Jungian ideal of Douche Central.

(The music the two actors are screaming over — Dutch Euro-trancer Dennis de Laat’s 2010 remake of Cassius’ 2002 French millennial-funk track “The Sound of Violence” — is a bit of a joke too, although I’m not sure if de Laat was in on it. Contemporary progressive house and Euro-trance, alas, are still perfectly suited for scoring tacky Internet wheeling and dealing in 2004.)

That over-the-top scene made me think about how far dance music and club culture have come, both in terms of mainstream acceptance — throw in a verse by Drake and a goofy bassline and “The Sound of Violence” could be Ke$ha’s next paycheck — and alternative options. Despite a few fun parties and a strong sense of underground unity, 2004 really was a low point for dance music, the spinning-wheels moment before a host of now-ubiquitous styles like dubstep, minimal techno, global funk, and nu-disco hit the scene. Sure, the current pop charts are a commercial dance juggernaut of kookily styled, sexlessy sex-obsessed, materialistic Auto-Tuned clubkid wannabes, hating on haters and looking for love all up in the VIP. But this is fine! First, thanks to the Internet, it’s all so easy to ignore. Second, anything’s better than the whine-rock males that electro-pop replaced. And third, pop homogeneity has helped bring about an alternative renaissance of brain-tickling party music and club events for people who want more out of nightlife than Cristal bottle-service and a new Facebook profile pic.

In fact, it was a bit hard to keep up with all the ingenious debauchery in 2010. Despite the continued recession — more probably because of it — partying was rampant, with new venues like Public Works and Jones and revamped ones like 222 Hyde, Holy Cow, and SOM joining established spots (happy 25th, DNA Lounge!) in presenting some of the most innovative programming in the world. I can’t tell you how many times I heard New Yorkers, Londoners, and Berliners sigh lovingly and praise the scene here.

It sure didn’t take a lot of traveling, though, for me to see how good we have it right now, partywise. The homofuturist techno of Honey Sundays, Tormenta Tropical’s spiky electro-cumbia, the twisted funk of Loose Joints, Some Thing’s post-ironic showtunes, Icee Hot’s UK bashment, DJ Bus Station John’s various bathhouse unearthings, Kontrol’s live minimal showcase, Phonic’s classic tech and house, the global funk of Afrolicious, Frequency’s Dilla-influenced hip-hop, Change the Beat’s future-bass soul, Love Letters’ intelligent techno, Nachtmusik’s dark wave, Ritmos Sin Fronteras’ global house, Braza!’s deep samba, Ritual’s anarcho-dubstep, Go Bang!’s disco bliss, the young queer twists of Hard French and Stay Gold …. I could go on and on — suffice it to say the only bad nights out I had this year in the city were the ones I can’t remember. (Even my brief forays into the Lady Gagay bars of the Castro were at least, er, exotic.)

And this was the first year in a long time that local partiers loudly chafed against our city’s ridiculous 2 a.m. curfew for bars lacking an exorbitantly priced late-night license. Could it be time for another push against this aspect of the city’s constant War on Fun? The pushback would be intense. Some tragic shootings and other violent acts were associated with nightlife this year (even if they only happened near a club, kill-joy NIMBY’s jump at the chance to blame partiers and don’t have the capacity to distinguish among different kinds of parties). Nightlife naysayers got away with some pretty ballsy moves this year, including the cancellation of the enormous Lovevolution outdoor party. Yet, as slightly cynical as I am right now about the possibility of political change, I’m hoping the vitality of our scene is starting to build some positive momentum toward at least letting SF parties keep going as long as those in New York, Atlanta, and Chicago. Hi, world-class city here, right?

In the larger view, 2010, to me, was the year that the Internet finally came of club age. I know, I know, you’ve heard it before. By making almost everything available at once, the Internet erases the distinction between mainstream and alternative culture, between pop and underground. This year that felt truer than ever, and the change seemed like it was finally taking effect on a broad cultural level — whenever I tried to explain to someone in their teens how rave culture was a deliberate rebellion against commercial culture, or how independent music differed from that put out by major labels, they looked at me like I was from the ’90s!

But in 2010, DJs and musical archeologists tried to fill in that almost with a vengeance — they wanted everything, from the past as well as the present, to be available on the Internet. Uploading and sharing history-altering vinyl rarities was this year’s badge of honor. I found myself hearing so many songs on the dance floor that I’d forgotten, I’d sometimes enter a kind of dream state, unsure of my own historical timeline. The “wave” phenomenon, which brought utterly unheralded synth and proto-goth acts from the age of hand-to-hand cassette culture to light (and various dance floors) was the most literal manifestation of this, but there were others as well. Old-school SF DJs who’d spent years building their record collections — Gavin Hardkiss, James Glass, Solar, Jenö, Garth, Ken Vulsion, Steve Fabus — sounded incredible this year, both for their vinyl gold and mixing acumen.

Across the board, DJs slowed the tempos of their sets, as if all the rapidly accumulating sonic history was dragging them back, their laptops churning from the weight of it all. Tunes somehow became wider, thicker, luminous. Suddenly songs were fields. This led to some fantastic developments — presaged by the reemergence of UK disco and “electro-funk” DJ pioneer Greg Wilson after decades of silence, and anticipated by releases from our own King & Hound duo, the edit scene was bananas, with a plethora of music makers releasing contemporary-sounding versions of forgotten classics. (Edits are made by rearranging or removing a song’s individual parts, unlike remixes that usually rebuild a song from the ground up).

Going one step further, recombinant folks like Soul Clap, Wolf + Lamb, Tensnake, and Mr. Intl took individual elements of half-remembered, half-heard soul, funk, house, and R&B gems and combined them with each other in uncanny ways — a little acid house melody here, the sax solo from a Chris Isaak song, a Cure bassline, a New Edition drum breakdown, a snatch of Vicious Pink there — as if populating a timeframe that didn’t quite exist.

Funnily enough, all this digging up and soldering together helped produce a heady, signature sound that crossed genre borders — dubstep (somewhat sadly) slimmed down its postapocalyptic multiculti bombast and became more psychedelic and introspective; future bass ripped a few bong hits and got more soulful; minimal techno astringency disappeared into full-on sing-along melodies; indie acts like Toro Y Moi, Delorean, Caribou, and Crystal Castles embraced rave and glitch aesthetics; abrasive hardcore electro and filter house politely fled the scene. The overall effect was breezy, brainy, and Balearic.

And yes, somewhat monolithic. Pity the poor fool who tried to be different. The overheated reaction to the coining of “witch house” as a genre — think glitchy crunk beats distorted with spooky effects and the occasional static-masked rap — showed that the current scene has no taste for standouts (perhaps that’s why there was no world-dominant club this year as well). We’ll see how well “moombahton” (don’t ask) fares in the coming months, but for now it’s enough to navigate the smart, chill wave cresting on SF dancefloors. We’re all CEO, bitches.

TRON: Legacy

-

December 10, 2010

0

TRON: Legacy is a 3D high-tech adventure set in a digital world that’s unlike anything ever captured on the big screen. Sam Flynn, the tech-savvy 27-year-old son of Kevin Flynn, looks into his father’s disappearance and finds himself pulled into the same world of fierce programs and gladiatorial games where his father has been living for 25 years. Along with Kevin’s loyal confidant, father and son embark on a life-and-death journey across a visually-stunning cyber universe that has become far more advanced and exceedingly dangerous.

Win tickets to a special midnight screening of TRON: Legacy at the Sundance Kabuki theater in San Francisco on Thursday, December 16. Be among the first to see Disney’s long-awaited cinematic event in the Sundance Kabuki’s main theater, which has just been upgraded to Dolby 3D and Dolby Surround 7.1. The winner will receive 2 tickets to the midnight screening and a $20 food voucher.

To enter, visit http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/TRON and answer the four Dolby and TRON trivia questions correctly. The winner will be selected at random.

Free parking

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

November 16, 2010

0

arts@sfbg.com

THEATER/DANCE In the world of performing arts, it often feels like there is a dearth of resources. The race for funding, rehearsal space, performance space, and audience attention can easily create disillusion. Lucky for San Francisco, there is a light in all this resource madness: the Garage, a small theater run by Joe Landini.

“There is a danger in believing in limited resources,” Landini recently said. He believes in abundance, that there is actually plenty of room for everyone who wants to create work, and that perpetuating this kind of thinking is essential to the mission of the Garage.

An unassuming building, the Garage’s little red door at 975 Howard St. leads into a modest foyer and black box theater. The basement houses a green room, dressing room, and prop closet in one. A lighting board allowing for tech support and sound can be found directly off the stage to the right of the audience seating. A single bathroom and sink are behind the stage’s back curtain. Yet despite its meager facilities, the Garage is home to a surprisingly large number of artists. Approximately 120 performers from diverse disciplines enjoy residencies at the Garage every year, culminating in more than 200 shows annually.

The Garage offers two kinds of residencies for performing artists: AIRspace (artist in residence), which is geared toward queer artists, and RAW (Resident Artist Workshop), the general program. Both are 12-week residencies culminating in a two-night performance run. Artists receive four hours a week of rehearsal space, totaling 48 hours, plus publicity and technical support. Resident artists may also have the opportunity to present their works-in-progress at the informal Raw and Uncut performance series. But perhaps the pièce de résistance of all this is that it comes at no cost to the artist: the Garage provides free rehearsal space, performance space, tech support, and press.

The Garage’s humble facility might be a clue to how this generosity is achieved. Another clue lies in the number of theater personnel; a friend who recently attended a Garage show commented on Landini’s presence, asking who the guy was who ushered, bartended, ran tech, and was basically the Garage’s ringmaster. In other words, there’s no staff and no expensive facility to run either. The Garage is funded entirely by grants and ticket sales, which goes to supporting the artists.

Angela Mazziotta moved to San Francisco earlier this year after completing her BFA in dance at the University of South Florida. Although she had choreographed within her BFA program, she had little experience creating work outside the college environment. Interested in further exploring her choreographic voice, she took up a residency at the Garage in August and will be presenting her new work, SMACKdab — a piece dissecting themes of belonging — Dec. 1-2 as part of the RAW performance series. While researching the dance community before moving to San Francisco, she stumbled across the Garage’s webpage and recalls feeling like the Garage sounded like a place she could start establishing herself. Mazziotta is an example of a newcomer to the SF dance scene who has been able to pursue her choreographic interests through the Garage’s magnanimity.

“The Garage is a place for anyone who wants to get their dance out there,” Mazziotta mused. More likely, the Garage is a place for anyone who wants to put anything out there. From traditional to classical to contemporary to avant-garde to downright insane, the breadth of the work presented at the Garage is staggering. Sometimes the Garage is sold out; other times there’s a sympathetic handful — but the work goes on.

Although the majority of resident artists come from dance backgrounds — due in part to Landini’s strong ties within the dance community — the Garage is by no means limited to dance. Anything performance-related — thespians, circus groups, musicians, poets, and artists of all walks have enjoyed time on the Garage’s stage — can ostensibly find a home there. The basic screening process includes a short write-up of the proposed work and a YouTube video of prior work, and the majority of applicants are granted residencies. This egalitarian mentality manifests the Garage’s guiding principle that anyone who is willing to give their time and energy in the name of art should have a place to do so.

Thus, a new dancer to the city who needs a place to start choreographing can begin at the Garage. A more established artist with limited funds who wants a theater to present work in is welcome there as well. A multidisciplinary artist interested in combining poetry and film would fit in. An eccentric group of performers who stand on their heads and juggle eggs with their feet could probably be accommodated as well. Imagination is the limit. Whatever the inclination or area of interest, the black box theater at 975 Howard will continue to house and assist performing artists through its generous programming and services. Everyone has a voice, and everyone who wants to should have a forum in which to express that voice. The Garage is a perfect example of an institution that supports and promotes the expression of all voices.

www.975howard.com

Google to take uppercut to the face

Andrew Lam

-

November 9, 2010

0

Not that we’re saying the sentiment is to be encouraged, but chances are there’s a lot of San Franciscans who’d like to see a tech industry bloggerati-programmer-computer whiz punched in the face. And lest you start downloading the Silicon Valley version of Bum Fights, harken now to online TV show White Collar Brawler‘s incoming detonation of class warfare: The Tech Beat Up (Thu/11).

Representing IBM in the Beat Up is a one Tenia Green, whose record in the ring heretofore is 0-0-0. According to her fighter’s profile on the White Collar Brawler website – which reveals Green to be a smiling young woman given to wearing large hoop earrings and fetching, color-coordinated ruffly blouses and cardigans – her “lack of experience” in prizefighting “will be made up after watching hours of Kimbo Slice videos on YouTube during her training.”

Her fellow competitors hail from Zynga, Apple, Google, Yelp, and a variety of other point and click palaces and appear to have similar levels of preparedness for what will surely be a night of broken noses, cauliflower ears, and sprained Twitter fingers. Who, you may ask, came up with this prize pig of a premise?

“I honestly can’t think of a single skill from the cubicle that’s helped me in the ring and most have set me back.” King of the roundhousing, carpal tunnel-weakened wrists is Nate Houghteling, a one-time would-be startup star. Accounts vary whether he or White Collar Brawler co-founder Kai Hasson drove their online entertainment company into the ground.

But what is important about Houghteling, as far as our story today is concerned, is that in a move that suggests a sort of Crunch Gym-style couples counseling but actually has more to do with a need for a break from the fluorescent light existence, he and Hasson vowed to box each other in the ring come December and have been documenting their training progress – they’re spending the equivalent hours of a part time job in the ring these days — through an online television show. The Tech Beat Up will be the subject of one of the program’s episodes and will no doubt raise its profile among their desk-bound brethren at the companies involved.

Of course, Green and company have not been working the bags like Houghteling and Hasson. Perhaps to prevent injury from a poorly (or well) placed white collar punch, Thursday night’s competitors will be flailing about in inflatable gloves. Houghteling, in a recent email exchange with SFBG, seemed non-plussed by this alteration of boxing protocol. “From what I hear it’s a whole different ballgame. Quickness is out, strategy is out, awkward lunging is in. That said, I could probably take everyone in this tournament.”

Which is to say he predicts noodle-limp jabs from all concerned — but that hasn’t stopped him from picking out his early favorites amongst the newbies. On the men’s side, he’s plumping for Anthony Ha, who Houghteling describes as “a waifish-looking blogger from VentureBeat.” Ha is up against Rick Johanson, a beefcake from Zynga who wears his Mafia Wars baseball hat backwards. Houghteling’s not worried. “I’m gonna try to make [Ha] eat a couple sandwiches before Thursday, but he has that unflinching stare you need to be a champion.”

For the women, it’s Ms. Green all the way – if only because he likes her packaging. “Her nickname is T-Pain and I think she’ll deliver on that promise,” says Houghteling.

Another bout to keep your eye on: that between Apple software engineer Zach Morris (whaaaat?!?) and Google product manager Robert Spiro, if only because, judging from White Collar Brawler episode 14 which profiles the fighters, their apartments look identical, which is curious. Also, someone is going to die. “I’m a murderer and I’ll murder my opponent and you’re going to die,” Spiro is captured saying, thereby incriminating himself (duly documented here).

Can’t stand to see all this violence against the people who brought you Farmville without joining the fray? Lucky for you, White Collar Brawler has set aside space for an audience challenger. Says Houghteling, who intends to capitalize on fallout from our economy’s miasma, “no doubt there are going to be a lot of laid off folks looking for some payback… the downtrodden will have a champion, too. He’ll be like Prius-driving Rocky.”

Oh, and Ashkon, the guy who sings the Giants remix of “Don’t Stop Believing” will host, for added zing-zang.

The Tech Beat Up

Thu/11 7:30 p.m., $10-15

Rockit Room

406 Clement, SF

www.whitecollarbrawler.com

alt.sex.column: Waiting for ….

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

November 2, 2010

0

andrea@altsexcolumn.com

Dear Readers:

I was at the San Francisco Sex Information conference recently, where once again there wasn’t enough time to cover the intriguing (and frustratingly unavailable) new methods of male contraception lurking, not unlike unejaculated spermatozoa, in the great urethra of scientific research and development.

I’d run out of space myself with the “If we can put a man on the moon, why can’t we … ?” argument, but in brief, yes, scientific understanding of male fertility in general lags its female counterpart. The other explanation for the paucity of male contraceptives is that men’s reproductive systems are just too, I dunno, male, to tame. It sounds reasonable enough to say it’s far easier to aim at one target — an ovum — than it is at 100 million new squirmy little targets a day. But the NIH’s repro-health branch, the National Institutes of Child Health and Human Development, blames “social and economic/commercial restraints,” and I’m always up for blaming those too.

If we somehow cleared those pesky socials and economics out of our path (Big Pharma has to step up; there’s only so much university researchers can do), would we see an explosion of safe and acceptable male birth control options? Pretty soon, probably, yes. And study after study suggests that men are ready and even eager to take over some of the hassle and responsibility. Women might just be ready for that too.

Despite the many “Whither the male pill?” articles you see, the new products and procedures likely won’t come in pill form: shots, implants, and even nasal sprays are the front-runners so far. On the kind-of-freaky front, there’s a “dry orgasm” nostrum, a so-far-nonexistent combination of a well-known blood pressure med with a discontinued antipsychotic that has unexpected effects on smooth muscle tissue.

RISUG, for reversible inhibition of sperm under guidance, is far better studied and far more promising. It’s a long-lasting injection of a sludgy compound that both blocks the vasa deferentia and messes with the enzymes a sperm needs to penetrate the egg.

Other researchers are looking into chemically blocking necessary tubage. A couple new male versions currently under study, though, are at least somewhat reversible, if not as instantly (and cheaply!) so as the RESUG, with its bi-carb and tingly massage.

Possibly my favorite unorthodox method is so low-tech and un-patentable that it’s hard to see where any major research money is ever going to come from. It’s plain old heat, applied via very-tighty-whities (called suspensories, these undies mimic undescended testicles by nearly pushing your balls — painlessly! — back up the inquinal canal) or hot bath.

As for the tech-ier and more expensive methods, remember those “social and economic/commercial restraints? That means the big money isn’t getting thrown at male contraception because the big money people don’t believe there’s a huge and eager market. If you beg to differ, you can go to MaleContraceptives.org and fill out their survey, which goes out quarterly to policy makers and pharmaceutical bigwigs. Put your mouth where the money is!

Love,

Andrea

Our Weekly Picks: October 20-26

Andrew Lam

-

October 19, 2010

0

THURSDAY 21

THEATER

“The Laramie Residency”

Just when you thought it was safe to come out of the closet, a chilling spike in suicide rates among gay teenagers who have been bullied or harassed has reemerged as national news. Which makes this rare double-header of The Laramie Project and its sequel, The Laramie Project: Ten Years Later, Epilogue uncannily apropos. Written in response to the notorious murder of Matthew Shepard, a young gay man in small-town Wyoming, both plays were created from hundreds of interviews with the inhabitants of Laramie. The results offer a detailed examination of how violence affects not only the perpetrators victims, but an entire community. “The Laramie Residency” also includes a special Thursday dialogue between director and coauthor Moisés Kaufman and Tony Taccone of the Berkeley Rep. (Nicole Gluckstern)

Thurs/21, 7 p.m.; Fri/22–Sat/23, 8 p.m., $10–$55

Jewish Community Center of San Francisco

3200 California, SF

(415) 292-1233

www.jccsf.org

FILM/PERFORMANCE

“All About Evil: The Peaches Christ Experience in 4-D”

Horror fans are well familiar with the tag line for Wes Craven’s 1972 Last House on the Left: “To avoid fainting, keep repeating ‘It’s only a movie … It’s only a movie…'” Well, it wouldn’t be Halloween in San Francisco without Peaches Christ, whose alter ego, the less-flashy but no less fabulous filmmaker Joshua Grannell, brings his All About Evil to life at the very Mission District theater where it was shot. The film and its accompanying pre-show performance have been out roaming the U.S. and the U.K. for the past several months; expect the hometown gig to be extra-specially spooky, with musical and multimedia numbers by Peaches and Evil cast members. And since the Victoria plays an important supporting role in the film, expect interactive surprises galore. Only a movie? Don’t be so sure! (Cheryl Eddy)

Through Sun/24

8 p.m., $20

Victoria Theater

2961 16th St, SF

www.peacheschrist.com

MUSIC

Joshua Bell with the San Francisco Symphony

An average street performer isn’t always average. In 2007, the acclaimed violinist Joshua Bell participated in an experiment in which he played for 45 minutes as an anonymous busker in the D.C. Metro. The few who bothered to pause in their morning bustle and pull out their headphones realized they were in the presence of greatness. Renowned worldwide, virtuoso Bell joins the San Francisco Symphony in Bruch’s Violin Concerto No. 1. Conducted by James Conlon, the evening also includes Wagner’s Prelude to Act I of Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, as well as Dvorák’s In Nature’s Realm and the overtures to Carnival and Othello. (Emmaly Wiederholt)

Thurs.–Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun, 2 p.m., $15–$150

Davies Symphony Hall

201 Van Ness, SF

www.sfsymphony.org

MUSIC

Steve Lawler

You can either love or hate seminal Ibiza club Space, and there’s been plenty of room to do both in its 20-year history. But just when you throw up your hands in a bad way at all the astringent trance, tipsy Brits, and noodling minimal, boom!, a DJ comes along who can drag you back to the dance floor. Rightly respected Brit Steve Lawler, known as the “King of Space,” scored that tiara by leapfrogging styles and keeping his sets limber. There’s some fluttering bass, chunky old-school breakdowns, and searing tech in his bag as well as, gasp, snippets of wistful melody. Lawler especially rocks the hard-driving, samba-esque Spanish-Berlin sound that’s become Ibiza’s best recent export. (Marke B.)

9:30 p.m., $10–>$20

Vessel

85 Campton Place, SF

(415) 433-8585

www.vesselsf.com

DANCE

Kunst-Stoff and LEVYdance

Dancers are famous for their kinesthetic memory. Without activating the brain, their muscles recall whole dances — or at least fragments. Show them a step or two and the rest follows. But dancers also seem to be able to dig even deeper, into something akin to an ancestral memory. It may take personal affinity but also a lot of hard research to unearth the kind of treasure trove that then can be used creatively. Two temperamentally different choreographers, Yannis Adoniou, of Greek descent, and Ben Levy, from a Jewish-Persian family, have done the excavations. Adoniou’s Rebetiko, commissioned by CounterPULSE’s Performing Diaspora Program, and Levy’s Our Body Remembers should make for an intriguing evening of might be called “kinetic history.” (Rita Felciano)

Through Oct. 30

Thurs.–Sat. and Sun/24, 8 p.m., $18

ODC Theater

3153 17th St., SF

(415) 863-9834

www.odctheater.org

FRIDAY 22

MUSIC

Stone Foxes

Let’s talk foxes, shall we? The native gray one is uncommon in San Francisco. The exotic red species, however, is a regular interloper of the Presidio. The Stone Foxes, four young dudes who play mean blues, are more like the former: genuine, rare, and always a treat to see in the wild. Sometimes you don’t want indie or nu-gaze or psych-doom-metal — you simply need real rock ‘n’ roll. Their sophomore album Bears and Bulls was released this past July, and though not as raw as their killer debut, it exudes a new and natural confidence. This is their official vinyl release show, so bring extra cash. (Kat Renz)

With Soft White Sixties and Real Nasty

10 p.m., $12

Bottom of the Hill

1233 17th St., SF

(415) 621-4455

www.bottomofthehill.com DANCE

Paco Gomes and Dancers

In his choreography, Brazilian-born Paco Gomes speaks with a powerfully articulated and mature voice. His dances beautifully integrate modern and Afro-Brazilian influences; as a company director he gathers around him — and trains — multi-ethnic dancers who seem to thrive under his tutelage. Now, with guest choreographers Jorge Silva and J. Pazmino, Gomes is presenting Amor O, an evening of works old and new that circles around love: of self, of friends, and also as remembered and lived within families. In addition, the program includes an excerpt of a new work in progress planned for an upcoming international tour. It examines love within another “family,” the Orixas, from the Yoruba religion. Perhaps it’s a consolation that in the world of the gods, not everything went smoothly either. (Felciano)

Through Sat/23

8 p.m., $15

Garage

975 Howard, SF

(415) 518-1517

www.975howard.com

MUSIC

Karl Blau

Eclectic K Records artist Karl Blau throws a wrench into the indie/folk scene with a chameleon-like ability to work within multiple genres. Ignoring the usual expectations of singer-songwriter stereotypes, Blau is known to inject everything from hip-hop and electronic influences to world and reggae music into his solo albums. He’s also worked with some notable names in Phil Elvrum (The Microphones, Mount Eerie) and Laura Veirs. Blau can currently be found playing bass for droney doom-metal band, Earth. It’ll be interesting to see how he melds all these elements together in a live setting. (Landon Moblad)

With Dina Maccabee and Birds and Batteries

7 p.m., free ($5 donation suggested)

Viracocha

998 Valencia, SF

(415) 374-7048

www.viracochasf.com

MUSIC

Lyrics Born

If it was any other rapper describing his newest album as “more synth-oriented” and “dealing with a lot of issues that are more mature than the last few albums, from abandonment to betrayal to incredible joy,” I’d say watch out for a lawsuit from one Mr. West. But since half of Latryx (with Lateef the Truthspeaker) and cofounder of Quannum Records, Lyrics Born is known for bringing his own brand of substance to the scene while pushing the genre forward. His new material, which features emerging artists Trackademicks, Francis and the Lights, and Sam Sparro, will be on display at this release party. (Ryan Prendiville)

With Chali 2na and the House of Vibe and Rakaa

9 p.m., $25

Independent

628 Divisadero, SF

(415) 771-1421

www.theindependentsf.com

SATURDAY 23

MUSIC

Triptykon

After almost 30 years in the arena, Tom G. Warrior has earned his status as heavy metal royalty. The Swiss singer and guitarist formed Hellhammer in 1982 and went on to found Celtic Frost two years later. Both bands contributed immeasurably to the development of extreme metal, and their influence reverberates throughout the genre today. Having parted ways with Celtic Frost in 2008, Warrior formed Triptykon, planning to pick up where Monotheist (Celtic Frost’s 2006 LP) left off. The new band’s music combines slabs of doomy guitar, razor-wire black metal, and Warrior’s paint-peeling vocals, breaking down genre boundaries in pursuit of heaviness. Come out and play. (Ben Richardson)

With 1349 and Yakuza

9 p.m., $23

Slim’s

333 11th St, SF

(415) 255-0333

www.slims-sf.com

EVENT

“SF DocFest Roller Disco Costume Party”

Have you ever stared longingly at the roller skaters in Golden Gate Park? Always wanted to join in but too embarrassed by your lack of boogie? Still hung up over the accident you had at a fifth grade skate party? Well, get over it. The Roller Disco Costume Party offers a simple solution: anonymity. As part of DocFest, admission is free with a ticket stub or just $5 if you strap on your best costume (which could potentially double as padding in case of collision.) (Prendiville)

8 p.m., free–$10

CELLSpace

2050 Bryant, SF

www.sfindie.com

MUSIC

Taj Mahal, Toumani Diabaté, Vieux Farka Touré

Tonight the Paramount plays host to a blues exploration featuring American bluesman Taj Mahal, Malian kora player Toumani Diabaté, and Malian guitarist Vieux Farka Touré. To trace the roots of the blues immediately leads to Africa, and in particular to Mali, and each of these three frontmen represents a different facet of that exploration. Mahal has spent decades reinterpreting the blues through far-flung musical traditions from the Caribbean and Hawaii to Europe and Latin America; Diabaté brings to the fore the centuries old West African tradition of the kora; and Touré, the torch-bearing son of the late Ali Farka Touré, represents a more recent cross-pollination of traditional Malian sounds with American blues and rock. While each of the three musicians is a monster in his own right, together they represent a veritable blues trifecta. (Mirissa Neff)

8 p.m., $25–$75

Paramount Theatre

2025 Broadway, Oakl.

(510) 465-6400

EVENT

“B.Y.O.Q.: Bring Your Own Queer”

Gurla-Q, you better bring it: a cavalcade of queer artists, musicians, and performers is avalanching Golden Gate Park for a full day of heady debauchery. Vinyl soul from the Hard French party DJs, homo-futurist sounds from Honey Soundsystem, Las Bomberas de la Bahia’s Afro-Puerto Rican percussion and dance, local indie faves Excuses for Skipping, fashion shows, a candygram booth, art displays, and so much more to turn you hot pink with multitasking. Plus, special guest John Cameron Mitchell giving you Hedwig fierceness. The annual B.Y.O.Q. has been a sweet, sweet success, conjuring up the activist days of yore while introducing some amazing new talent. Don’t wrap your internal pansy up in a plain brown bag, let her shine and shine. (Marke B.)

Noon–6 p.m., free

Golden Gate Park Music Concourse, SF

www.byoq.org

SUNDAY 24

MUSIC

Reigning Sound

Reigning Sound burst out of the gates in 2002 with the garage-punk classic, Time Bomb High School. Since then, the Tennessee-based group — performing as part of the ninth Budget Rock festival — has continued to refine its brand of country, soul, and classic R&B touches by way of organ-filled, distorted guitar-driven rock ‘n’ roll, most recently on 2009s Love & Curses. The band also recently backed up original Shangri-la member Mary Weiss on her 2007 comeback album, further evidence of the range its capable of. As far as modern garage rock goes, Reigning Sound is as classy and fun a group that you’re likely to find. (Moblad)

With Flakes, Ty Segall, and Touch-Me-Nots

9 p.m., $15

Bottom of the Hill

1233 17th St, SF

(415) 621-4455

www.bottomofthehill.com

The Guardian listings deadline is two weeks prior to our Wednesday publication date. To submit an item for consideration, please include the title of the event, a brief description of the event, date and time, venue name, street address (listing cross streets only isn’t sufficient), city, telephone number readers can call for more information, telephone number for media, and admission costs. Send information to Listings, the Guardian Building, 135 Mississippi St., SF, CA 94107; fax to (415) 487-2506; or e-mail (paste press release into e-mail body — no text attachments, please) to listings@sfbg.com. We cannot guarantee the return of photos, but enclosing an SASE helps. Digital photos may be submitted in jpeg format; the image must be at least 240 dpi and four inches by six inches in size. We regret we cannot accept listings over the phone.

Big Oil’s false choice

Andrew Lam

-

October 12, 2010

0

rebeccab@sfbg.com

Tapping into voters’ economic insecurities at a time of record high unemployment rates, out-of-state oil interests say addressing global warming will cost California more jobs. But a broad coalition that includes environmentalists and top business groups argue that just the opposite is true, saying the economy will suffer if we suddenly kill the incentives now driving the clean energy industry, one business sector that actually grew during the recession.

Proposition 23 would indefinitely suspend Assembly Bill 32, California’s Global Warming Solutions Act. Texas oil companies are bankrolling the initiative, spending millions of dollars to convince voters that they must choose between saving jobs and saving the environment. Since jobs are more important right now, they argue, the environment will have to wait.

But the other side — which includes groups such as the Chamber of Commerce, whose top priority is always job creation — is promoting the compelling idea that the path to economic recovery lies in rising to the challenge of climate change. They argue that addressing global warming now isn’t just about avoiding more out-of-control wildfires, diminishing crop yields, prolonged intense droughts, coastal flooding, and other calamities that climate scientists say global warming will bring to California. It’s also about creating jobs now and trying to lower California’s 12.4 percent unemployment rate, the third highest nationwide.

The push to defeat Prop. 23 has brought together prominent business people, public-health advocates like the American Lung Association, big green organizations such as the Sierra Club, and environmental-justice advocates who are pushing for green jobs as a way to fend off poverty and tackle air quality problems in disadvantaged neighborhoods. If the coalition of unlikely allies is successful, Big Oil’s comfortable lock on the energy market could be thrown off balance by California’s emerging green economy.

“Ultimately, we think it’s going to be a David vs. Goliath battle, because they have very deep pockets,” said No on 23 campaign spokesperson Steve Maviglio. “The proponents are playing to the fears of those most affected by the economy.”

When voters decide on this one, it will signify a choice to proceed down one of two paths at an important crossroads. A global climate summit in Copenhagen late last year failed to produce an effective response to climate change. A push for a federal cap-and-trade system to combat global warming yielded similarly disappointing results. AB32 presents a third chance to set a new standard, and a precedent, for curbing greenhouse gas emissions. But if Prop. 23 passes, environmentalists will have struck out.

A report issued in July by the National Academy of Sciences lays bare the far-reaching implications of policy decisions around climate change. “Emissions reductions choices made today matter in determining impacts experienced not just over the next few decades,” the report notes, “but in coming centuries and millennia.”

CLOSE RACE

In 2006, Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger signed AB32, mandating a statewide reduction of greenhouse gases to 1990 levels by the year 2020. The law is slated to go into full effect in January 2012, when a cap-and-trade system will make it more costly and burdensome for major polluters to continue burning high quantities of fossil fuels, among other strategies.

The law helps alternative energy companies and creates incentives for large and small businesses to green their operations. Prop. 23, deceptively titled the “California Jobs Initiative,” would suspend AB32 until the state’s unemployment rate drops to 5.5 percent for four consecutive quarters. A decade could pass before such a market condition is in place — in the past 40 years, it’s occurred just three times.

Speaking at the Commonwealth Club in Santa Clara in September, Schwarzenegger blasted Texas-based oil companies Tesoro Corporation and Valero Energy Corporation, which have contributed a combined $5.6 million to the Prop. 23 campaign, for trying to deceive California voters. “They are creating a shell argument that this is about saving jobs,” Schwarzenegger said. “Does anybody really believe that these companies, out of the goodness of their black oil hearts, are spending millions and millions of dollars to protect jobs? It’s not about jobs at all, ladies and gentlemen. It is about their ability to pollute and thus protect their profits.”

Prop. 23 has been unpopular even among many traditional right-wing and business interests. Oil giants Chevron and BP have remained neutral on it. Republican gubernatorial candidate Meg Whitman also renounced it, but straddled the fence by vowing to suspend AB32 for a year anyway.

According to a breakdown of campaign spending issued by opponents, oil interests contributed 97 percent of the funding for Prop. 23, while out-of-state interests were responsible for 89 percent. Kansas-based Koch Industries, run by billionaire siblings David and Charles Koch, dropped $1 million into the effort. The Koch brothers have been singled out as the financial backbone of the Tea Party.

Yet despite bipartisan opposition in Sacramento, polls suggest Prop. 23 could be a close race. A recent Los Angeles Times poll showed a dead heat among California voters, with 40 percent in favor, 38 percent opposed, and about one-fifth of likely voters undecided. The television commercials advocating Yes on 23 drive home a simple yet misleading message: “Save jobs. Stop the energy tax.” A spokesperson from the Yes on 23 campaign did not return the Guardian’s calls seeking comment.

Ironically, jobs are also the cornerstone of the No on 23 campaign’s arguments. “We have very heavy hitters who see this as a job killer,” Maviglio said. The campaign is highlighting the fact that the only economic area that has experienced growth amid the recession is green tech.

Democratic gubernatorial candidate Jerry Brown referenced green jobs as a bright hope for economic recovery in a televised debate against Whitman, and the prospect of green job creation as a way to alleviate poverty is clearly articulated in The Green Collar Economy, a widely influential book by Green for All founder Van Jones. Green for All has joined the Greenlining Institute and a host of 80 organizations statewide in a united front against Prop. 23, called Communities United Against Prop. 23, which is part of the larger opposition campaign dubbed Communities United Against the Dirty Energy Prop.

Low-income communities and communities of color will be disproportionately affected if Prop. 23 wins, said Orson Aguilar, executive director of the Greenlining Institute. “The communities we represent are feeling a double impact,” Aguilar noted. “They’re suffering from pollution,” since power plants and polluting industries tend to be sited in low-income communities, “and they’re suffering from unemployment and the economic crisis. There definitely is a double-whammy.”

LOCAL MOMENTUM

At a recent green business symposium hosted by Urban Solutions, a nonprofit that aids small businesses and seeks to create job opportunities in low-income communities, a Castro District merchant explained her decision to enter green-business certification process. “I’m dedicated to going green because, No. 1, it’s the right thing to do,” said Elaine Jennings, who runs Small Potatoes Catering & Events. “No. 2, it’s the right thing to do. And No. 3, it’s the right thing to do.”

But the moderator of the panel, a business reporter, wasn’t as interested in the moral rationale — instead, she followed up by asking whether going green was a wise financial move. Anthony Tsai, green business program manager at Urban Solutions, made the case that it is. Water bills have gone up 40 percent since 2000, Tsai said. Electricity costs have gone up 60 percent and waste disposal fees have increased 250 percent. By conserving energy and water and reducing waste, small businesses can save money during tough economic times.

Aguilar sees energy-efficiency building retrofits as an opportunity to create jobs for disadvantaged populations. In order to comply with the climate regulations under AB32, energy-efficiency retrofits would have to be completed to hit conservation targets. “We have thousands, if not millions, of buildings in California that need to be retrofitted,” he said. “A lot of people who are out of work are in the construction industry. Latinos and African Americans were hit hard when construction fell.” With energy retrofits and solar-panel installations on the agenda, AB32 could be good news for electricians, too, Aguilar said.

There are signs that AB32 is already giving green business a lift. A manufacturer of electric delivery trucks, for example, relocated from Mexico to California’s Central Valley late last year. A wind-energy company recently relocated to San Diego from Spain. The solar industry is growing faster in California, particularly in the Bay Area, than anywhere else nationwide. And in the past five years, roughly $9 billion in venture capital investment has gone into clean tech industries, with more going to California than any other state.

“Prop. 23 would essentially pull the rug out from under this explosive growth, which we’re experiencing during a recession,” Maviglio noted.

Jeanine Cotter, CEO of Luminalt, an independently owned San Francisco solar and installation company, is active in the campaign to defeat Prop. 23. “There is an entire ecosystem that feeds off of good policy,” Cotter said. If Prop. 23 passes, “we will lose the spark that we have and we will go backward.”

Despite the economic downturn, Luminalt experienced its best year in 2009 in the six-year history of the company, and if AB32 goes into effect in 2012 as planned, the demand for new solar installations will only grow. But with less than a month to go before the election, Cotter said she was alarmed by the lack of awareness about Prop. 23, even among environmentalists.

“We were at West Coast Green with No on 23 literature,” she said, referencing a widely attended green-business conference, “and I was shocked at how many people didn’t know what it is.”

RISKING IT

Small business owners and conscience-driven activists aren’t the only ones touting this theory of a new energy economy. The San Francisco Chamber of Commerce, a fiscally conservative business association that is often at odds with environmentalists and progressives, is actively campaigning against Prop. 23 — and it’s not out of any sense of moral duty.

If Prop. 23 succeeds, explained Chamber spokesperson Rob Black, it will scare off the venture capitalists. “For them, water’s like money,” he explained. “It will flow to the easiest place to invest.” Regulation like AB32 guarantees a return on investment for climate-friendly technology, he added. But if that regulatory structure is thrown into question, investors may flee overseas because investing would be too risky. “If we walk away from clean tech, the next Microsoft will be a Chinese company,” Black said.

Donnie Fowler, a political consultant who has worked for Al Gore and other top Democrats, is a senior adviser to the Clean Economy Network and a leader in the effort to defeat Prop. 23. Oil companies “went to Washington and spent hundreds of millions” lobbying against climate change regulations, Fowler pointed out. “Now they’ve opened up a second front. If California goes backward, all of those senators and Congressional representatives will say, ‘No way … I’m surely not taking a political risk. If they went backward, there’s no reason we should go forward.'”

Fowler said that for environmentalists, voting No on 23 could be seen as an affirmation of statewide efforts to address climate change in a meaningful way. “This is a real opportunity,” he said, “for Californians to stand up and say we’ve had enough. We are going to take a stand — right now.”

www.stopdirtyenergyprop.com

www.communitiesagainstprop23.com

The Performant: Dies Arses have it

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

October 6, 2010

0

Local Arts: Arse Elektronika weekend and arses up at Dodgyfest III

Couldn’t make it out to the “Oscars of computer art” at the Ars Electronica Center in Linz, Austria? Me neither, but thanks to Viennese techno-prankster collective monochrom, I could stay in San Francisco and experience a slightly more warped version at the 4th annual Arse Elektronika instead. An exploration of sex, tech, and space — inner and outer — Friday evening’s lineup of lectures and presentations turned the Center for Sex and Culture into a grown-up game of show-and-tell.

First up was “Spaceman” Sam Coniglio of the Space Tourism Society presenting on one of his favorite topics: “Sex in Space”. Unfortunately, as Coniglio notes, this is not NASA’s first priority as a research topic and the jury is out on whether or not anyone has ever successfully joined the 217-mile club or not. (If so, “they’re not telling.”) But such lack of information hasn’t stopped the hopeful from designing prototypes of gear that might assist in future feats of space sex. With the help of volunteers, Coniglio showed off his own favorite, a plushy “snuggle tunnel”—like a giant slinky covered in velveteen.

Jason Brown’s extremely entertaining talk, “The Endosymbiotic Cha-Cha” took the concept of sex in space from the outside in, beginning with the premise that humans may fantasize about boinking a reasonably attractive, bipedal extraterrestrial race, but in reality, scale might be the real barrier. Perhaps alien life forms already live among us (or in us!) at a microscopic level. Are multiplying viruses getting it on while we suffer the side effects of their fevered touch? Wrapping up the evening was Heather Kelley, aka moboid, presenting an iPhone app she designed called Body Heat which allows the user to manipulate the speeds of a vibrator using a touchscreen. She showed off its incidental percussive potential along with Jordan Gray, or starPause, who accompanied her with electronic blips and sampled bits.

Such sexoterica was good food for thought, but I was feeling the need to get down and dirty. Luckily, Dodgyfest III was there for me. Ostensibly a birthday celebration for prolific rock photographer Mr Dodgy (Neil Motteram), Dodgyfest featured cake, t-shirts, and hi-octane rocking. Girls with Guns! Meat Sluts! La Plebe! It’s pretty hard to think of a feistier lineup, but just for kicks, Neil threw in a few extra tunes as frontman for the (very) occasional Bloody Hells. Taking a tongue-in-cheek page out of the Ramones’ rock-and-roll high school primer, the pseudononymous Meat Sluts (SFBG-recognized “Sluttiest Rockers”) bear monikers best suited for the bbq stand (Scarlet Spamchop anyone?) and their set list was equal parts carnivorous and lascivious — man-meat featuring large in the lyrics. Turning up the heat was the ever-smokin’ La Plebe, who rather wholesomely avoid overtly sexual themes in their lyrics, though they always throw in “Dirty Old Town” for the punters. But their overriding message of personal liberty is always an aphrodisiac to the spirit, and their skintight ska-inflected riffs would make Buzz Aldrin wanna mosh. Space-sex fetishists take heed, sometimes the most fun you can have is with your clothes on after all.

Getting our rocks off: a historical perspective

Andrew Lam

-

September 28, 2010

4

Getting our rocks off: a historical perspective

San Francisco is waiting for its Boogie Nights. Unbeknownst to Hollywood, our fair berg was the infant creche of hardcore pornography, spawning a subculture of porn theaters that thrived despite police harassment and political pressure.

We were number one! Luckily, a few brave men are resurrecting our porn golden age money shot – read on for a first look at documentary The Smut Capital of America and an interview with the director himself, Michael Stabile.

Smut Capital is by no means Stabile’s first porn rodeo. The co-editor of Gay Porn Blog, he and Smut Capital editor-cinematographer Ben Leon are both mainstays in the SF gay porn scene. The two were researching their upcoming doc on the life of gay smut powerhouse Falcon Studios founder Chuck Holmes when Stabile came across a New York Times article that inspired the title of their new project, which is a work in progress for which the team is fundraising in order to release the finished film in 2011.

“Until then I’d always thought of it as an industry that emerged from LA, but San Francisco was actually the city that birthed the porno theater. It was the beginning of the sexual revolution, and in a lot of ways these directors were documenting this newly found freedoms.” Stabile attributes the renaissance to hippie women “with really no hangups,” a progressive zeitgeist that had seized the city in the late sixties and early seventies, and film processing studios that were willing to develop sexually explicit material. By the era’s zenith in 1972, there were porno film theaters in neighborhoods across the city.

Not that everyone was down to get all that action on screen. Dianne Feinstein, first in her post as the city’s first female president of the Board of Supervisors and then as SF’s first female mayor, led a crusade focused on cleaning up the Tenderloin, which incidentally included sweeping the neighborhood free of its supply of adult movie houses. What ensued was an orchestrated harassment policy that different porn theaters dealt with in different ways.

Established theaters, Stabile says, actually benefited from the police and media persecution. “They’d come in with cameras, it’d be on the five o clock news and it would be great for them,” he says. “Advertising was very limited at the Chronicle. Feinstein would come in with her troops and would detail everything that was going on. Suddenly there was a way to talk about it, so people would flood into the theaters.” The Mitchell Brothers grew so adept at playing the cat and mouse game, he says, that they would post Feinstein’s office number on their marquee under the words “call for a good time.”

But not everyone prospered. Smaller theaters that depended on a few workers to operate, like Alex DeRenzy’s Screening Room, suffered when police would take key staffers on pointeless joyrides around town before booking them on charges of vice crime. Eventually factors like these, and more importantly the advent of video porn in the 1980s pulled the adult film business down to Los Angeles.

The move shifted the purpose of sex films away from their original role in the Sexual Revolution. Says Stabile “People were doing it here because they enjoyed it, because they wanted their own sexualities represented. It’s not like that in LA for the most part, where even a lot of the gay studios are owned by straight men looking to turn a profit.”

But don’t worry, the party’s not over. One of Stabile’s main goals with the film is not just to highlight good sex gone by, but that which cums and goes even today. When asked whether SF is still a presence in the world of porn, he had no equivocation. “Its one of the great untold stories in the local media – San Francisco has a huge porn presence. Raging Stallion, Falcon, Hot House – seven of the top ten gay porn studios are located up here, there’s Kink.com, porn writers like Violet Blue,” he says.

It appears that the tech savvy and sexual freedom that led to our capital crowning are still alive and well on these city streets. Phew! Now you may now go back to your regularly scheduled local porn browsing.

SKI-thal weapon

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

September 28, 2010

4

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC E-A-SKI has been in the game nearly 20 years, producing tracks with then-partner CMT for Spice 1’s eponymous 1992 debut on Jive Records and subsequently working with the likes of Master P, Ice Cube, and even Dr. Dre. He’s also maintained a career as a rapper. Yet despite several local radio hits and four major-label deals — Priority, Relativity, Dreamworks, Columbia — he’s never released an album. The deals have always soured, yet the astute businessman has always made money on them, as his professional-grade studio in the middle of a huge house hidden beyond the Oakland Hills attests.

I’ve come by for a private screening of SKI’s new video, "No Problems," the first single from The Fifth of Skithoven, an album he plans to release next year through his own label, IMGMI. If "private screening" sounds highfalutin’, "No Problems" is no ordinary clip. It’s a six-minute film, directed by Wayans Brothers associate Michael Tiddes, that recently won an award for best music video at the 13th Okanagan International Film Festival in Kelowna, British Columbia.

"I didn’t just want to keep putting videos out there," SKI explains. "I wanted to do something more cinematic to express the music."

A John Woo-like allegory of rap integrity, "No Problems" finds SKI battling to reclaim his soul from the Devil, wagering the contents of a mysterious Pulp Fictionesque briefcase that he can do it. The "x-factor," as SKI puts it, is the actor playing the gravel-voiced, gangsta Devil: Danny Glover. After meeting years ago in activist circles — SKI frequently mentors inner-city youth — the two recently reconnected when they found themselves members of the same gym. Despite the demands of Glover’s schedule (seven films currently in post-production, according to imdb.com), the Lethal Weapon star made time for the shoot.

"I did it ’cause SKI kept bugging me," Glover laughs during a quick phone call. "No, seriously. I respect what he does with Oakland and the community, and I thought it’d be fun." Judging by his over-the-top supervillain meltdown as SKI emerges triumphant, Glover had plenty of fun with the role.

"It was an honor for him to even want to be in a hip-hop project," SKI says. "I did my first line with him and just froze, like, ‘This is Danny Glover!’ I ain’t gonna lie, I got star-struck! And I’ve done a lot of stuff."

It’s hard to imagine a tongue-tied E-A-SKI, but then again, even Frank Sinatra looks intimidated alongside Marlon Brando in Guys and Dolls (1955). Getting Glover in his video is exactly the type of rabbit SKI consistently pulls out of his hat to keep himself relevant in a genre in which artists usually have short self-lives. Even on his own independent label, SKI routinely places videos on MTV, most recently 2009’s "Rare Form" by IMGMI-signee and Frontline-member Locksmith. Although there’s a trailer for "No Problems" on MTV’s movie blog, and SKI plans more film festival screenings, the video remains unreleased.

"I want to make its debut a big thing," SKI says. "Like MTV showing the trailer, having a build up, then boom! — a Jam of the Week. We have a relationship, so they’re open to it. But it’s still in the works because I’m trying to see what’s best for my album."

Like a rap Paul Masson, SKI will serve no wine before its time, and Skithoven is no exception, though he’s already lined up tracks with the likes of Tech 9ine, Freeway, and Ice Cube (whose upcoming I Am the West [Lench Mob] includes a bonus track produced by SKI). "It’s like a puzzle," he says. "I like to get the pieces and now I’m structuring it." But will we finally see an album from the man known as "The Bay’s Dre," or will there be more of the Detox-like delays that have led him to shelve previous discs like Earthquake and Apply Pressure? SKI’s patience is unwavering.

"I never let people dictate to me," he says. "I’m gonna do what I wanna do. I’ve always been a firm believer in, if I can’t do what I want to do at that time and then too much time goes by, it’s time to reinvent."

www.myspace.com/mreaski

High on arrival

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

September 28, 2010

0

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC If hip-hop is jazz, then Curren$y can be described as a traditionalist. His debut album, Pilot Talk (DD172/Def Jam), is pure braggadocio, with rhymes about fancy cars and free-flowing liquor and free-loving women. The music, lovingly produced and arranged by Ski Beatz, sounds like an update of Dr. Dre’s The Chronic, all the way down to the New York session musicians recruited to crank out mellow grooves. It’s as if Curren$y has reinterpreted the Sugar Hill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight” for the new millennium.

In the world of jazz, the traditionalists famously waged war against the free jazz nuts who wanted to strip the form of tonality, and then against the fusionists who sought to infect it with slovenly rock and roll. With help from Dixieland revivalists and Ken Burns’s Jazz documentary, they succeeded. In contrast, rap nerds have always viewed avant-garde experimentation with suspicion at best, and complete ignorance at worst. The furthest we’ll go, it seems, is the high-tech funk of Big Boi’s Sir Lucious Left Foot: Son of Chico Dusty, or Madlib’s Medicine Show of gutbucket blues and crusty soul-jazz loops.

If fitted with John Coltrane’s sheets of sound or Ornette Coleman’s harmolodics, Pilot Talk would be a strangely awesome experience. As is, it’s soothing yet enlightening, like an animated chop session after smoking a joint or two with a friend. Curren$y clearly made it on blunted terms: the album artwork depicts a lone airplane flying over a landscape of lush green marijuana foliage.

So Pilot Talk is like weed talk, with several narratives hidden underneath the stoner blather. On “Example,” Curren$y claims “reimbursement for paid dues,” then states, “I am an example of what can happen when you quit being afraid to gamble.” On “Seat Change,” he mocks a girl who wants to “ride with a G,” concluding that “somewhere along the line she fucked up and realized she lost her seat.” His lines are pimp slick but thankfully shorn of delusion. When he flips a bevy of yeyo metaphors for “Audio Dope,” he clearly does it in service of the concept, not to build a farcical image of himself as a drug kingpin. The image is of a neighborhood (or, more accurately, Internet) baller.

Curren$y’s persistence comes from years spent toiling for various rap crews, hip-hop’s version of the mailroom. As a young scrapper from New Orleans’s Uptown neighborhood, he rolled with C-Murder’s TRU family before C-Murder infamously caught a life bid for murder, then transferred to Master P’s No Limit label. Then he landed at Lil Wayne’s fledgling Young Money Entertainment, dropping burner verses for Weezy’s The Carter II and Dedication mixtapes, before landing under the aegis of reformed hip-hop mandarin Damon Dash, whose DD172 label released Pilot Talk in July. It’s ironic that since Curren$y’s departure, Weezy has decided to transform Young Money into an overpublicized pop star boot camp for teen idols like Nicki Minaj and Drake. Then again, the fact that even Curren$y sounds alternative when posited against mainstream rap’s scions demonstrates how rigid the culture has truly become.

However, Curren$y also benefits from marketing, albeit of a viral nature. Pilot Talk boasts the cream of the blog rap crop, including Mikey Rocks from the Cool Kids, Big K.R.I.T., and Jay Electronica (who sharply compares Flavor Flav’s signature bow tie to the Nation of Islam’s attire). Even much-beloved weed rapper Devin the Dude drops a verse for “Chilled Coughphee.” A writer friend of mine, Christopher Weingarten, remarked to me that when Devin the Dude jumps in with sly wit like “I can fuck a bum up quick / But that’s some tenth grade shit,” it only underscores Curren$y’s relative lack of vocal presence.

Other critics have theorized that Pilot Talk‘s artistic triumph is largely due to Ski Beatz’s memorable accompaniment. An NY vet whose catalog ranges from membership in early-’90s woulda-beens Original Flavor to credits on Jay-Z’s 1996 classic Reasonable Doubt and Camp Lo’s “Luchini AKA (This Is It),” Ski Beatz initially produced Pilot Talk‘s tracks himself and then hired talented unknowns like bassist Brady Watt to transform them into instrumental gems. True, any rapper would sound incredible against the majestic sunshine funk of “Address.” But give Curren$y credit for lodging its hook in your brain — “Still nothing changed but the address.”

CURREN$Y

With C-Plus and NPire Da Great, J-Billion and P-Funk, DJ ANT-1

Wed/29, 9 p.m., $16–$20

330 Ritch

330 Ritch, SF

(415) 541-9574

www.330ritch.com

Hot sluts!

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

-

September 21, 2010

59

culture@sfbg.com

SEX ISSUE Forget those uptight pricks: sluts are awesome. There’s no shame in harboring a voracious appetite for sexiness in all its myriad expressions. Combined with a well-developed ethical stance and safe practices, it’s one of the joys of being human. In honor of the enormous, charitable Folsom Street leather and fetish fair (Sun/26, 11 a.m.–6 p.m., donations requested. www.folsomstreetfair.org), we wanted to honor some of our favorite local sluts with the pervy attention they want and deserve.

>>CLICK HERE FOR PICS OF OUR FAVORITE HOT SLUTS!

SLUTTIEST CELLULOID

You’ve always wanted to watch your neighbors bang, right? Well moan enthusiastically in honor of the Good Vibrations Indie Erotic Film Festival, which every year puts the call out for the cream of the amateur blue filmmaker crop, then assembles the spunkiest for your viewing pleasure at the Castro Theatre. You too can be in the audience, which will ooh and aah its approval to choose the sexiest, steamiest home-screw, the lucky winner receiving a $1,500 money shot. So how does SF get it on? This year’s 12 finalists include preggo smut (Jeannie Roshar’s “Bun in the Oven”), good old-fashioned wordplay like Benjamin Williams’ “The Filth Element,” and sci-fi sexin’ (“Orgasm Raygun” by Martin Gooch). The fest precedes a range of specialty nights around town coordinated by Good Vibes, including Lebso Retro: A Dyke Porn Retrospective (Wed/22 at the Women’s Building). It’s gonna be a hot ticket, so grab a seat, relax your rear, and revel in the sight of sexy San Francisco.

Thurs/23 pre party: 7 p.m., $10; screening: 8 p.m., $10. Castro Theatre, 429 Castro, SF. (415) 621-6120, www.gv-ixff.org

SLUTTIEST QUEEN

“I’m so honored to be named Sluttiest Queen,” inimitable alternative drag goddess Suppositori Spelling tells us. “It’s nice to see that my work hasn’t gone unnoticed. I have so many performances that require nudity that when I drop my skirt lately it’s often met with a wave of yawns from my audience. I think they’re more shocked by the presence of panties nowadays.” (Her audience, found at her raucous weekly drag show Cocktailgate — Sundays, 9 p.m., $5. Truck, 1900 Folsom St., SF. www.trucksf.com — sheds a few panties themselves when she’s on stage.) “I could tell you stories so dirty hot that this paper would burn like a Koran in Florida” she continues, “but I’m so shy and reserved. I will say this, though: as far as the queer sex scene in San Francisco goes, we seem to be in the flush of a renaissance. I keep stumbling upon things that even make me blush — like the gentleman who preferred a visible handjob on public transportation during rush hour as foreplay. But I encourage whatever floats your boat or creams your Twinkie. I just want to clarify, however, that “ouch” is not a safe word!”

Suppositori emcees the Seventh Street stage at Folsom Street Fair from 11 a.m.–2 p.m., followed by a special performance at 2:30 p.m., and then a “hanky code” themed Cocktailgate at its regular time.

SLUTTIEST BOYS

Dan and JD, a.k.a. Two Knotty Boys, are no strangers to the twists and loops of BDSM performance. Native San Franciscans both, they not only create mesmerizing stage shows in which they bind nubile flesh to their will, but also produce end results so visionary that you’d be excused for leaving off the “fetish” and dubbing it merely “fashion.” A ever-so-tightly cinched halter top of gleaming white cord, a barely there cobweb bikini that requires an expert hand to remove, overlays of skirts and dresses that hobble the wearer seductively and at the same time, show off the contours of the female body. It’s neat, it’s adjustable, it’s sexily professional work. It’s easy to see why the duo has filmed more than 100 video tutorials and taught countless workshops in the Bay and beyond for their eager fans: the Boys have tied up hundreds of women but, unlike some humiliation artists, they have never tied down their subjects’ beauty and comfort.

www.twoknottyboys.com

SLUTTIEST PARTIERS

Was it written on the rock hard abs of some San Franciscan sex god that all coital gatherings in this city have to be stark and stoic? Thankfully, the colorful gang over at Kinky Salon never got that memo. Creators Polly and Scott have created a swinger’s playland party in the pink and purple rooms of Mission Control whose focus is flair: playful costume themes have focused on everything from kitty cats (the upcoming Pussyfest) to undersea adventure and fairy tale characters. You’ve never lived, it would seem, until your Snow White costume has been peeled off on the couch in the Harem Room by Tinkerbell and Captain Hook. More recently, the team has created a new magazine to celebrate the vast array of sexualities that their partygoers lay claim to: San Fran Sexy. The rag includes erotic history lessons from sexologist Dr. Carol Queen, memoir pieces from Bawdy Storytelling’s Dixie De La Tour, photos from recent Kinky Salon soirees, and news of sensual events to come.

www.kinkysalon.com

SLUTTIEST ROCKERS

“If the Meat Sluts were a Pink Lady, we’d be Rizzo! We ain’t no prudes like Sandy!” says BB Rumproast of rockin’ band the Meat Sluts (www.myspace.com/themeatsluts). In a world of vegan dogs, her XXX-chromosomed trash rock-punk explosion is an all-beef foot long. The four women are cookin’ on stage — literally. In addition to the occasional back up steak dancing alongside their guitar licks and growls, the Meat Sluts have shared space at shows with a live hot dog-maker and a meat grinder flinging sausage and baloney onto hungry fans. It’s messy, carnivorous fun — the perfect expression of the group’s embrace of hedonistic appetite that could care less about what’s considered “ladylike” at the table of the musical establishment. “We are loose and crazy and not ashamed of it! We love man meat! We love weenies! Beef baloney, Slim Jims, T-bones, bring it ON!” says Rumproast. To quote the Sluts’ rager rally cry “Johnny Con Carne,” that’s what we call makin’ bacon.

The Meat Sluts play Dodgyfest 3, Oct 2, 7 p.m., $10. Thee Parkside, 1600 17th St., SF. www.theeparkside.com

SLUTTIEST BLOGGER

Fleur De Lis SF has a bone to pick with the way hot and horny females are portrayed. “Women are just as sexual as men and they should own it,” the blogger tells us. Need proof? Check out the blog she started this summer — just make sure your hands are free and you’ve got a little privacy while you do so. Her posts are missives from a professional woman’s enthusiastic exploration of sensual subcultures in “one of the sexiest cities in the world.” Though her identity is clad in secrecy, Fleur De Lis SF’s escapades with Craig’s List Casual Encounters, BDSM clubs, and randy run-ins at the grocery store will leave you slicker than a Slip ‘N Slide in 90 percent humidity. Erotic inspiration notwithstanding, what we love about this new It slut is her candor and assertiveness. “Mainly, I want to educate people to embrace sex and sexuality,” she says. “I want people to accept who they are, and who are we are sexually is a huge part of who we are as people.”

fleurdelissf.wordpress.com

SLUTTIEST MAN ACTION

For the past few years, hunky leatherman cruisers have been blessed with the return of a SoMa bar crawl, which, while hardly rivaling the infamous Miracle Mile of the 1970s and ’80s, at least offers hide-lusting bar-hoppers an array of options. Truck, Hole in the Wall, Powerhouse, the Eagle, Lone Star — all make for a daisy chain of fellow cock-seekers. But the piece de resistance is surely Chaps II, which gives itself wholly over to man-action bliss. The original Chaps, owned by Chuck Slaton and Ron Morrison, was notorious for its Crisco-minded shenanigans, and Chaps II, opened in 2008 by David Morgan, continues the proudly perverse tradition, with parties devoted to rope play, piss play, fisting, and sports gear aficionados, as well as regular nights simply dedicated to the Holy Grail of slutty manhood: cheap ass. (For those unfamiliar — cheap ass tastes like chicken parmesan.) Kudos to you, Chaps II, for keeping the BDSM spirit alive — and serving a healthy round of Jäger shots to boot.

1225 Folsom, SF. (415) 255-2427, www.chapsbarsanfrancisco.com

SLUTTIEST ROBOTS

Drilldo, Intruder MK II, the Satisfyher, Scorpion, the Little Guy, Annihilator, the Octapussy — these are some of the friendly, dripping sex robots you’ll meet at FuckingMachines.com, part of the Kink.com kingdom. The machines put a bevy of heaving beauties through the motions with their dildo-studded fingers and pulsating hacksaw thrusts. Designed by lucky site users, who submit their moving-parts fantasies, and the fiendishly clever sex-elves at the Fucking Machines workshop (with many of the machines fabricated on site at Kink’s HQ in the Mission Armory), these fascinating thingamabobs range from devilishly dirty to actually kind of cute. There’s even one modeled on Johnny 5 from Short Circuit, albeit renamed Fuckzilla and outfitted with a huge silicone phallus. The whole shebang is overseen by the enthusiastic Tomcat, who drives the point home that, yes, a chainsaw outfitted with 20 fake tongues “challenges the whole idea that women need someone to buy them dinner to get pleasure.” Fucking machines themselves have been around since the 1960s, he notes, “but when we started in 2001, we wanted to capitalize on the tech wave, while approaching the machine construction like sculpture.” Good thing the Fucking Machine bubble didn’t burst.

SLUTTIEST SLÜT

Burlesque heroine Baroness Eva Von Slüt knows what she’s got, and she’s happy to show it to you. The inked, buxom platinum blonde dove into burlesque in 2002, but she’s never been afraid of flaunting her dangerous curves onstage. “Whatever the thing is that women have that they hate their bodies, I just don’t have it. I don’t compare myself to other people because I know I look good.” Von Slüt produces her own burlesque shows, plays party-jumping jams with partner DJ Mod Days, and heads up the vocals for no less than two sexy bands — Thee Merry Widows, an all-girl psychobilly explosion of fishnets, red lipstick, and leather dresses, at whose shows Von Slüt will bust out in pasties and sequined panties, and the White Barons, a stripped down, hard-edged punk outfit in which Von Slüt lets her rebel growl loose. So what gets this freight train whistling? Purrs the lady, “Self-confidence and kindness. Also, I am a bit of a cougar, so gentlemen 10 years younger. I’m not opposed to men my age or older, but gosh they’re just so sweet when they’re young!”

Catch Von Slüt’s DJ session on Wednesday, Oct. 13 at Butter, 354 11th St., SF. www.myspace.com/missevavonslut

SLUTTIEST FREE-FOR-ALL

There are a lot of gay musclemen at the Folsom Street Fair, and there are a lot of steamy, shirtless gay man-parties surrounding the event (causing quite a few Monday morning tragedies). But what about everyone else? “I was talking to my friends at Kink,” says Folsom organizer Demetri Moshoyannis, “and they said that once the fair ended, all the leathermen had a place to go, but everyone at the Kink booth just had to go home. So this year we teamed up with them to change that.” The result? A glorious-sounding omnisexual dance party called Deviants that’s open to everyone. The acknowledgment that gay muscle men aren’t the only ones who can get down and dirty into the wee hours is refreshing. But so is the musical lineup — the Juan Maclean, Zach Moore from Space Cowboys, Australia’s Stereogamous — which offers something beyond the carnival circuit-music at many of the other parties. Musclemen are welcome, too, of course, as long as they’re willing to shake their chains on the dance floor.

Sun/26, 6 p.m.–2 a.m., $30 advance. 525 Harrison, SF. www.folsomstreetfair.org/deviants

SLUTTIEST PIE

It’s not too many harems that offer you 40 different ways to satisfy your cravings. But hot, lip-smacking loving can be yours — in three different locations or for delivery, no less! — whenever that urge to do something naughty hits, whether you like it on your lunch hour or for a post-bar dirty stopover. Oh, Pizza Orgasmica, you sure do know what gets us going. The local chain has umpteen big, salacious pies with nookie-themed names for your perusing. And although the Ménage à Trois, with it’s cuddle puddle of five salty cheeses, will leave you panting, and the Latin Lover’s barbeque sauce, chicken, zucchini, onions, and cilantro make for a meaty, spicy affair, the sluttiest pie award has got to go to the Farmer’s Daughter. She looks like a demure little milkmaid (after all, you can find her on the vegetarian menu) — but once her drizzles of creamy bianca cheese hit your tongue, and her fresh corn and broccoli fill your mouth … it’s a tumble in the hay you won’t soon forget. Old MacDonald would be scandalized.

Various locations, www.pizzaorgasmica.com

SLUTTIEST CLOWN

When it comes gender-bending sexual escapades, we landlubbing bipeds tend to give short shrift to our finned, feathered, and multi-legged Earthmates. That’s why we’re giving a hearty bottoms up to the California Academy of Science’s Amphiprion ocellaris. The showy orange and white striped fish, whose common name is clownfish, is best known as the aquatic brat in Finding Nemo. But we don’t care about Nemo’s celebrity — or his billions. We salute him for his ability to shift from male to female when needed, giving her access to the entire spectrum of fishy sexuality. One of the planet’s rare sequential hermaphrodites, all clownfish are born male (protandrous hermaphrodites) but become female when the female in a breeding pair dies. You may never look at a clownfish the same way again — and you should certainly go and look at them at the Cal Academy aquarium (www.calacademy.org), where the San Franciscan clownfish ride tiny fixies, design websites, and sip Blue Bottle. Kidding! But maybe we should rethink always calling them “Nemo.” How about Nema for a change? Or Nemo-ma. Or, oh goddess of LGBT fish love, Nemaphrodite.

SLUTTIEST BUFFET

It’s lunchtime Friday and you need a juicy thigh in your mouth: Gold Club is there. And no, we’re not talking about the lovely ladies popping, dropping, and locking it all over the SoMa strip club’s pleasure poles. Carnal urges take on new meaning when it comes to the joint’s $5 all you can eat Friday buffet, an omnivorous affair stuffed with roast beef, lasagna, fresh veggies, hummus, brownies, and their signature breasts (or as one Yelper so memorably dubbed them, “fried chicken tit-tays!”) The spread attracts a diverse crowd of office workers and lap-dance connoisseurs of all genders, endowed with an appetite for crispy skin and jiggling glutei maximi alike. So pair your plate with a $4 happy hour cocktail — available until 7 p.m. — and don’t forget to share your savings with the working women up front.

Gold Club’s all you can eat buffet Fridays 11 a.m.– 2 p.m., $5. 650 Howard, SF. (415) 536-0300, www.goldclubsf.com

Slutty profiles written by Marke B., Caitlin Donohue, Johnny Ray Huston, and Diane Sussman.

Our Weekly Picks: September 15-21, 2010

David Talbot

-

September 14, 2010

0

WEDNESDAY 15

MUSIC

Head Cat

Boasting a bona fide all-star lineup of musicians, rockabilly super group the Head Cat features Lemmy Kilmister of Motorhead on bass and vocals, Slim Jim Phantom of the Stray Cats on drums, and Danny B. Harvey of the Rockats on guitar and piano. Breathing new life and a new attitude into classic tunes by Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, and others, the trio hits the road for a few special gigs whenever they can find the rare time in their mutually busy touring schedules. Fans can expect a new slew of hell-bent covers from their yet untitled forthcoming second album, along with a couple of original songs born from the same vein of the seminal sound that forged the template for all rock ‘n’ roll to come. (Sean McCourt)

With Red Meat and Bad Men

9 p.m., $20

Uptown

1928 Telegraph, Oakl.

www.uptownnightclub.com

THURSDAY 16

MUSIC

Wild Nothing

Don’t call it “chillwave:” Wild Nothing’s Jack Tatum makes woozy beach music that owes more to ’80s Cocteau Twins dream-pop than the recent lo-fi progeny who bear that wince-inducing label. The dream-pop badge is one Tatum wears proudly, initially gaining online chatter from a faithful rendition of Kate Bush’s “Cloudbusting” before releasing debut album Gemini, which features a lot of those deep drum machine sounds you used to hear out of Collins and Gabriel before they moved on to Disney theme songs and cover albums, respectively. Joining Tatum at this Popscene event is Swedish Balearic pop star Eric Berglund, of Tough Alliance fame, performing as DJ CEO. Don’t forget the beach ball! (Peter Galvin)

With DJ CEO and JJ

9 p.m., $10–$13

Popscene

330 Ritch, SF

www.popscene-sf.com

EVENT

“w00tstock”

Though the Revenge of the Nerds movies were made back in the 1980s, the collective social paradigm had yet to really shift in favor of our pocket protector-wearing brethren. But now, with the near ubiquity of computers, entertainment technology, and mainstream success of events like Comic-Con, the time has come to push those horn-rimmed glasses back up our noses and bask in the geek glory that is upon us. Join Adam Savage from Mythbusters, Wil Wheaton from Star Trek: The Next Generation, music-comedy team Paul and Storm, and others for a night of music, comedy, readings, films, demonstrations, and more that embrace geek pride. (McCourt)

Through Fri/17

7:30 p.m., $30

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.gamh.com

FRIDAY 17

FILM

The Room

Oh, hi. You know, we have a policy about not running sold-out events in Picks, and I suspect tickets for the Red Vic’s screenings of 2003’s The Room — hot commodities under any circumstances — are in scarce supply, especially since writer-director-producer-star Tommy Wiseau plans to attend each showing in person. But how could I naaaht include what just might be the cinematic event of the year? If you’ve seen The Room, you know whereof I speak. If you haven’t seen it, you are tearing me a part [sic]. Gather your spoons, your football, your red roses, your red dress, your pizza, your tuxedo, your drug debts, your green screen, your phone-tapping device, and your most romantic slow jamz — maybe that’ll be enough Room mojo to secure a front-row seat. (Cheryl Eddy)

Through Sat/18

8 p.m. and midnight, $15

Red Vic

1727 Haight, SF

(415) 668-3994

www.redvicmoviehouse.com

SATURDAY 18

MUSIC

Kele

Kele Okereke has a deeply soulful voice that forms the heart of his steady band, Bloc Party, consistently matching dramatic post-punk guitars and ruthless drums with gusto. But it appears Kele’s interests are more far-reaching than anyone ever thought: he brings those soulful vocals to a collection of chintzy U.K. house in his first ever solo album. The Boxer is a hodgepodge of ideas and styles that survives solely on the exuberance Okereke brings to each performance. He’s so happy to be making these songs, you can literally hear him smiling as he sings. (Galvin)

With Does It Offend You, Yeah?, Innerpartysystem, Aaron Axelsen, and Miles

9 p.m., $20

Mezzanine

444 Jessie, SF

(415) 625-8880

www.mezzaninesf.com

DANCE

Mary Armentrout Dance Theater

Mary Armentrout is a choreographer of keen perception and sharp intelligence. As an artist, her pieces are witty and wonderfully theatrical — yet they also explore important ideas. Unfortunately, she is not very prolific, so this premiere should be a real treat. The site-specific the woman invisible to herself explores issues around identity even as it questions the very nature of performance — as a state of being and as a theatrical practice. Armentrout structured woman as a solo for herself — and for Natalie Green, Nol Simonse, and Frances Rotario. It will be performed for small audiences at sunset in and around her studio, the Milkbar in East Oakland. (Rita Felciano)

Through Oct. 3

Sat.–Sun., 6:30 p.m. (times vary), $20

Milkbar at the Sunshine Biscuit Factory

851 81st St., Oakl.

(510) 845-8604

www.maryarmentroutdancetheater.com

EVENT

Creature Feature Night at AT&T Park

Beloved local TV horror host and writer John Stanley resurrects the classic Creature Features show for a spooktacular evening at the ballpark tonight — after cheering on the Giants as they take on the Milwaukee Brewers, fans can head out onto the field for some eerie entertainment, prizes, and limited edition T shirts. Then, under cover of darkness (and likely shrouded in a perfect scene-setting fog), the high tech scoreboard will transform into a giant movie screen, showing the 1954 Universal monster melee Creature From The Black Lagoon. Be sure to bring a blanket — and watch out for any beasts clamoring out of McCovey Cove! (McCourt)

6:05 p.m., $25

AT&T Park

24 Willie Mays Plaza, SF

www.sfgiants.com/specialevents

www.bayareafilmevents.com

EVENT

“A Tribute to Fess Parker”

For multiple generations of kids, Fess Parker was a true American hero. Though he was just an actor, he came to embody the stature and values of the roles he played, particularly those of Daniel Boone, and of course, the one he is most remembered for, Davy Crockett. Parker passed away earlier this year, but his legacy will live on in the hearts of his fans, who can celebrate his life and work this weekend with a series of Davy Crockett screenings and a special tribute event featuring members of his family. (McCourt)

Sat/18–Sun/19, 3 p.m. (also Sat/18, 10:15 a.m.), $5–$12

Walt Disney Family Museum Theater

104 Montgomery, Presidio, SF

(415) 345-6800

www.waltdisney.org

EVENT

UFO X Fest

Because you’ve only got 472 days left until 2012. Because that lenticular cloud you peeped over Mount Shasta on Labor Day weekend left you a little tingly. Because The X-Files hasn’t been on TV for eight years. Whatever the reason, mysterious forces are pulling you to UFO X Fest. G’wan, heed them — the two-day lineup of speakers, films, and collegiate paranoia is just the ticket for truthiness. Speakers include a chappie who has assembled a database of 142,000 recorded UFO sightings and a cryptohunter whose specialty lies in scrutinizing unexplained cattle mutilations. Through Sun/19. (Caitlin Donohue)

9:30 a.m., $89.99 (weekend pass, $149.99)

Historic Bal Theater

14808 East 14th St., San Leandro

(510) 614-1224

www.ufoxfest.com

SUNDAY 19

MUSIC

Melvins

No strangers to the SF stage, Seattle’s iconoclastic sludge merchants the Melvins are back, with a new album, The Bride Screamed Murder, in tow. The band has long specialized in mind-bending songwriting and arrangement, and The Bride doesn’t disappoint, working in everything from free jazz to boot camp-style call-and-response — “Captain Beefheart playing heavy metal” according to guitarist/vocalist King Buzzo (and his legendary coiffure). The dual-drummered quartet (Big Business skinsperson Coady Willis joined in 2006) will be presaged by the delectably grungesque L.A.-by-way-of-SF trio Totimoshi, touring on 2008’s thumping Milagrosa but touting a new record very soon. (Ben Richardson)

With Totimoshi

9 p.m., $21

Slim’s

333 11th St, SF

(415) 255-0333

www.slims-sf.com

FILM

“Radical Light: Landscape as Expression”

San Francisco plays itself in dozens of Hollywood movies, but the avant-garde works featured in the inaugural “Radical Light” program explore the imaginary city, the one perpetually coming into shape through the fog and over the hills. Of the city’s topography, filmmaker-teacher Sidney Peterson noted with some delight, “The straight line simply resisted use.” Tonight’s bill draws on the works of artists similarly disinclined: Bruce Baillie’s lovely Ella Fitzgerald-scored camera movement (1966’s All My Life); Chris Marker’s science-fiction views of Emeryville trash sculptures (1981’s Junkopia); Dion Vigne’s electrifying survey of North Beach’s surfaces (1958’s North Beach); and in-person appearances from two established masters, Lawrence Jordan (1957-78’s Visions of a City) and Ernie Gehr (1991’s Side/Walk/Shuttle). (Max Goldberg)

6:30 p.m., $9.50

Pacific Film Archive

2575 Bancroft, Berk.

(510) 642-1412

www.bampfa.berkeley.edu

TUESDAY 21

MUSIC

Cloud Cult

The inspiration for much of Craig Minowa’s music with Cloud Cult is, and seemingly will always be, the sudden death of his two-year-old son in 2002. An event like that is likely to shape any man’s future. Although the Cloud Cult moniker existed previous to that devastating moment, it’s absolutely appropriate for a band that thrives on songs about the next life, fear, and pain. Let me backpedal a bit though, because while those are scary subjects, this is not scary music. We’re talking jubilant indie music here, and, judging the tunes apart from their lyrical content, Minowa crafts some wildly fun, experimental beats that prove that the things that shape you don’t have to define you. (Galvin)

With Mimicking Birds

8 p.m., $15

Independent

628 Divisadero, SF

(415) 771-1421

www.theindependentsf.com

FILM

“Robert Altman vs. Friendship!”

Of the three consecutive Robert Altman double-headers at the Roxie this week, I’ll put my money on this one every time. California Split (1974) remains one of the great troves of talk in American movies and a prime example of the director’s open sound design. In a just world, lovers of 1998’s The Big Lebowski would line up for Elliot Gould and George Segal as compulsive gamblers and friends, blurting out pearls on betting, the Seven Dwarves, stealing time, and California (“Everybody’s named Barbara”). As for 3 Women (1977), I still think I must have dreamed Shelley Duvall and Sissy Spacek being in the same movie. (Goldberg)

7 and 9 p.m., $6–10

Roxie Theater

3117 16th St., SF

(415) 863-1087

www.roxie.com

The Guardian listings deadline is two weeks prior to our Wednesday publication date. To submit an item for consideration, please include the title of the event, a brief description of the event, date and time, venue name, street address (listing cross streets only isn’t sufficient), city, telephone number readers can call for more information, telephone number for media, and admission costs. Send information to Listings, the Guardian Building, 135 Mississippi St., SF, CA 94107; fax to (415) 487-2506; or e-mail (paste press release into e-mail body — no text attachments, please) to listings@sfbg.com. We cannot guarantee the return of photos, but enclosing an SASE helps. Digital photos may be submitted in jpeg format; the image must be at least 240 dpi and four inches by six inches in size. We regret we cannot accept listings over the phone.

Totally wired

David Talbot

-

September 14, 2010

0

arts@sfbg.com

HAIRY EYEBALL The secret lives of teenagers aren’t so secret. They’re just password protected and might only be on view to a close circle of Facebook friends. Alternately, they might be lived via text message or on YouTube. Typically only the most sensational and tragic episodes involving wired teens seem to make the news — pregnancy pacts, cyber bullying, suicides — even if teenagers were having unprotected sex, harassing others and being harassed, or choosing to end their lives long before MySpace or smart phones.

"Teen Age: You Just Don’t Understand," Catherine Clark Gallery’s current group show, takes the opposite tack, honing in on how technology has become embedded in the everyday lives of adolescents. And contrary to the dismissive door-slam of its title, "Teen Age" actually gets its subject demographic right due to its collaborative nature: each piece was created by an adult visual artist working closely with a teen, or in some cases, multiple teens.

For their installation "A Conversational Portrait," Christopher Santiago typed up 16-year-old Alison Shively’s phone conversations, the transcriptions spilling out from a laser printer onto the gallery’s floor in a seemingly endless scroll. A funny visual metaphor for TMI, their piece also points to the representational challenges inherent to the premise of "Teen Age": how do you successfully integrate technology, especially interactive technology, into a gallery space? Not to mention the more basic concern of how do you represent a life?

Photography seems to be a common answer. The 140 photographs Leela Cyd Ross, 18, had a relative take of her since she was 14 cover an entire wall of the gallery’s front room and document, over the course of a dizzying number of hair cuts and costume changes, in her words, "boyfriends, body, self-image, identity, fashion, and general teen craziness." In the back room, Kris Land’s individual portraits of 16-year-old Virgil Taylor and his friends, illuminated only by the screens of their PDAs (the photos are also the subjects’ current Facebook profile pics), come off visually striking but somewhat obvious.

Sam Wheeler, 16, and Whitney Lynn’s couch fort sculpture, along with their documentation of similar installations, is the shows most resolutely lo-tech piece. But its very tactility and familiarity is what makes it so immediately evocative of being young and wanting, to paraphrase Brian Wilson, a world where you can go and tell your secrets to. That world may now be online, but Wheeler and Lynn’s cave-like assemblage is a reminder that teenagers still can use a real pillow — whether to cry on, punch, or hug — from time to time.

DUE SOUTH

"Teen Age" is one of the parallel programs tied to this year’s San Jose Biennial, or 01SJ, which officially kicks off tomorrow. The biennial, organized by new media arts organization ZER01, is now one of the Bay Area’s largest cultural events, and this year’s participants were asked to "build your own world." That task comes naturally to teenagers, and to the artists who created these other worldly, must-experience Biennial entries:

"Possible Landscape (for Donald Judd)" Steve Roden’s reflective sound installations are based in closely listening to his surroundings. For this midnight concert he combines field recordings made on and in sites around Judd’s sculptures in Marfa, Texas with live improvisation to create a sonic landscape that is neither here nor there. (Fri/17, Trinity Cathedral)

A Season in Hell Randall Packer spares no punches in this damning multimedia spectacle that chronicles one artist’s Dante-like journey through the Inferno of post-9/11 America. (Fri/17-Sun/19, San Jose Stage)

"Interactive Wood Machines" Sculptor Bernie Lubell’s wooden kinetic sculptures are proudly old fashioned. The large-scale, human-powered installations he built inside SJICA’s Main Gallery look like something out of The Flintstones. (Through Sun/19, San Jose Institute of Contemporary Art)

TEEN AGE: YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND

Through Sept. 25

Catherine Clarke Gallery

150 Minna, SF

(415) 399-1439

www.cclarkgallery.com

01SJ BIENNIAL

Thurs/16–Sun/19

Various locations, San Jose

www.01sj.org

Hot sexy events Sept 8-14

Andrew Lam

-

September 8, 2010

0

Well bless my Star Wars! All that tassel twirling and shimmy-shimmy of burlesque, at times it seems you can’t turn around with a eyeful of curves hitting you at full speed in this town. Not that I’m complaining. But I must admit, I’ve always been concerned – when do the sci-fi aficionados get their very own night of burlesque beauties? One would think that more would follow in the steps of LA’s Devil’s Playground, which performed a mind-busting strip down of C3PO and even Jabba the Hutt this spring. Disturbing? Hot? Both? Maybe I’m worrying too much — but when does SF get a piece of that action? Leave it to Bombshell Betty to heed my heart-felt cry for our darling and economically life-affirming nerds (you know we’re a cradle for Tech 2.0 or whatever, right?). Strutting the stage on a very special night at the Elbo Room (Tues/14) will be any number of ladies loving the heroes, the bad guys, the technology, the far-fetched cleavage of the sci-fi genre that you would think just begs for a little more spec-ta-ta-tacular exploitation. Oh wait. Lara Croft. Never mind.

Man on Sex

See now, this is why Fringe Festivals exist. Though the first of these theater fairs – which usually feature randomly chosen productions for maximum wierdness – was in Scotland, San Francisco stage folk flock to our fair city like there’s no tomorrow. It all makes a wonderful backdrop for Man on Sex, James Schneider’s new solo show of sexual collage. Think Shakespearean penis, a lonely trucker, and a hetero man who can’t seem to pinpoint the allure of strippers. Fringe, right?

Through Sun/19

Wed/8 9 p.m., $10-12.99

Exit Theater

156 Eddy, SF

(415) 673-3847

www.sffringe.org

Aftercare Workshop with Daddy Wendell

BDSM scenes require a different sort of after love-love. Of course, it doesn’t take a genius to suggest that those bruises and sores can be alleviated by a soak in a candlelit bathtub, but the professor behind this course – Daddy Wendell, who is offering up a phalanx of one-off classes at Femina Potens this week – is pro enough to know how to get at those subcutaneous hurts and aches. We’re talking, you know, emotional upkeep. Get down on it, you lovers and fighters.

Fri/10 7-8:30 p.m., $25

Femina Potens gallery

2199 Market, SF

(415) 864-1558

www.feminapotens.org

www.facebook.com

Explore Ecosexuality

“I haven’t been so excited about something since the feminist porn wars,” classic adult film star Annie Sprinkle once told me of her new project series with partner Beth Stephens. Stephens and Sprinkle are pioneering the field of ecosexuality, which recognizes the sensual relationship that one can share with the natural world. Are you down with the dirt? Elated by the ocean? Perhaps you will enjoy their class, in which they’ll detail 25 ways to love the world around us.

Thurs/9 6-8 p.m., $15-20 sliding scale

Good Vibrations

1620 Polk, SF

(415) 345-0500

www.goodvibes.com

Trash or Treasure: Kinky Rummage Sale

The acquisition of clothes is a funny thing. Self consciousness can drive us to binge, a desire to strut like a peacock can drive us to buy, and hell – the two don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Whatever the reason, if your closet of sexual playwear is full to bursting, you can tote those corsets and cod pieces on down to San Jose, where you will be blessed with an audience of buyers eager to rifle through the leather, lace, and love you acquired over the years.

Sun/12 1-5 p.m., $5 buyer $25 seller

Pierce Ink

48 Race, San Jose

(408) 280-6699

www.soj.org

Sci-Fi Burlesque

Sample names of performers at this event: Madonna May-Hemm, Pearl E. Gates, Vadge O’Fonor, and… Pickles Kintaro? Somebody please explain that pun to me, I’m feeling less than vocabularic right now. Tunes by Fromagique.

Tues/14 9-11:30 p.m., $10-15

Elbo Room

647 Valencia, SF

(415) 552-7788

www.elbo.com

No smart meters in SF

David Talbot

-

September 7, 2010

0

EDITORIAL Smart meters are a dumb idea. That’s what The Utility Reform Network says, noting that the high tech devices are expensive (California utilities, including Pacific Gas and Electric Co., will be charging consumers $5.4 billion to install the meters), don’t save energy or money, and can lead to privacy risks. PG&E bills have soared unexpectedly in places where the meters have been installed in the past year, forcing an investigation by the California Public Utilities Commission, which concluded on Sept. 2 that the meters are okay, but PG&E’s customer service isn’t. Still, TURN and other experts say the report is inconclusive, and state Sen. Dean Florez (D-Shafter) wants legislative hearings before any more meters are installed.

San Francisco hasn’t faced the smart meter problem yet since the utility hasn’t been installing them here — but that will start soon enough, now that the CPUC (never known as a harsh critic of PG&E) has given the green light. TURN is urging customers to boycott the meters, so the San Francisco supervisors should tell PG&E that the city doesn’t want this flawed technology.

Smart meters are supposed to make it easier to save energy. The idea is that the devices will not only track how much electricity a customer is using, but give that customer the ability to monitor usage at different points in the day and cut back during peak periods.

But to take advantage of the gadgets, a customer would have to buy a bunch of expensive gear on the side — communications devices, thermostats, computer chips for energy-intensive appliances, etc. PG&E isn’t going to pay for that stuff.

Meanwhile, the "smart" part of the meter sends information about your energy usage through a wireless signal. Privacy advocates worry about that (as do people concerned with having yet another device in the house emitting low-frequency radiation).

And while PG&E denies that there are any problems with the accuracy of the meters, huge numbers of people in areas where they’ve been installed have reported huge — and otherwise inexplicable — hikes in their monthly bills.

So for most residents and small businesses, smart meters are just going to be a pain in the ass — a questionably accurate, potentially dangerous, and otherwise worthless device that PG&E is making money from by installing.

TURN has advice on its website (turn.org) for people who want to boycott the meters: to tell PG&E to leave the existing meters in place. If you put a sign on your meter saying you don’t want it changed — and if you tell the person coming to replace it that you don’t want a smart meter — you may stave off the new product for a while.

But San Francisco is in the process of creating a community choice aggregation (CCA) system that will put the city for the first time in the business of delivering retail electric power. That ought to give the city some authority over how local meters are going to operate — and at the very least, the city should tell PG&E to back off until CCA is in place and the city can do its own independent study.

The supervisors should ask City Attorney Dennis Herrera to investigate what authority the city has to block PG&E from installing smart meters, and to look at how the new CCA might avoid including the cost of the devices in the rates local customers pay for power. At the very least, the board can endorse the boycott and urge the CPUC to keep smart meters out of the city. Candidates for local office should oppose the smart meters. And if PG&E wants to force the issue, city officials just need to remind the utility that its local monopoly is illegal, that San Francisco has a federal mandate for public power, and that just three months ago, 68 percent of the city’s voters said they wanted to preserve a public power option.

No smart meters in SF

David Talbot

-

September 7, 2010

4

TURN is urging customers to boycott the meters

EDITORIAL Smart meters are a dumb idea. That’s what The Utility Reform Network says, noting that the high tech devices are expensive (California utilities, including Pacific Gas and Electric Co., will be charging consumers $5.4 billion to install the meters), don’t save energy or money, and can lead to privacy risks. PG&E bills have soared unexpectedly in places where the meters have been installed in the past year, forcing an investigation by the California Public Utilities Commission, which concluded on Sept. 2 that the meters are okay, but PG&E’s customer service isn’t. Still, TURN and other experts say the report is inconclusive, and state Sen. Dean Florez (D-Shafter) wants legislative hearings before any more meters are installed.

San Francisco hasn’t faced the smart meter problem yet since the utility hasn’t been installing them here — but that will start soon enough, now that the CPUC (never known as a harsh critic of PG&E) has given the green light. TURN is urging customers to boycott the meters, so the San Francisco supervisors should tell PG&E that the city doesn’t want this flawed technology.

Smart meters are supposed to make it easier to save energy. The idea is that the devices will not only track how much electricity a customer is using, but give that customer the ability to monitor usage at different points in the day and cut back during peak periods.

But to take advantage of the gadgets, a customer would have to buy a bunch of expensive gear on the side — communications devices, thermostats, computer chips for energy-intensive appliances, etc. PG&E isn’t going to pay for that stuff.

Meanwhile, the “smart” part of the meter sends information about your energy usage through a wireless signal. Privacy advocates worry about that (as do people concerned with having yet another device in the house emitting low-frequency radiation).

And while PG&E denies that there are any problems with the accuracy of the meters, huge numbers of people in areas where they’ve been installed have reported huge — and otherwise inexplicable — hikes in their monthly bills.

So for most residents and small businesses, smart meters are just going to be a pain in the ass — a questionably accurate, potentially dangerous, and otherwise worthless device that PG&E is making money from by installing.

TURN has advice on its website (turn.org) for people who want to boycott the meters: to tell PG&E to leave the existing meters in place. If you put a sign on your meter saying you don’t want it changed — and if you tell the person coming to replace it that you don’t want a smart meter — you may stave off the new product for a while.

But San Francisco is in the process of creating a community choice aggregation (CCA) system that will put the city for the first time in the business of delivering retail electric power. That ought to give the city some authority over how local meters are going to operate — and at the very least, the city should tell PG&E to back off until CCA is in place and the city can do its own independent study.

The supervisors should ask City Attorney Dennis Herrera to investigate what authority the city has to block PG&E from installing smart meters, and to look at how the new CCA might avoid including the cost of the devices in the rates local customers pay for power. At the very least, the board can endorse the boycott and urge the CPUC to keep smart meters out of the city. Candidates for local office should oppose the smart meters. And if PG&E wants to force the issue, city officials just need to remind the utility that its local monopoly is illegal, that San Francisco has a federal mandate for public power, and that just three months ago, 68 percent of the city’s voters said they wanted to preserve a public power option.