Amber Schadewald

Year of the Workhorse


Photos by Erin Conger

Patrick Brown, sound engineer and owner of the Mission’s Different Fur Studios, is a busy guy — both literally a man about town, as well as on the internets. I’ve started calling him the Santa Claus of social medias — always watchin’ his friends’ web behaviors, good, bad, whatever. He’s consistently first to like posts and favorite tweets, while simultaneously pulling off epic shifts in the studio.

But despite the screen-mediated chatter we had recently traded, I hadn’t actually seen the guy in months. I wanted to interview him: I hoped for secrets, opinions about the SF music biz, and other pertinent wizardry. With this in mind, I got an insider tip from his girlfriend: the promise of dim sum could usually lure him out of the studio.

Our “date” landed on Superbowl Sunday, and we happily avoided sports fans by venturing to Chinatown. Beneath red lanterns and pouring rain, we pulled up barstools at the Buddha Lounge and ordered Lucky beers, listening to “PYT” on the jukebox and watching a regular sway his hips in the doorway.

“Is that some kind of fat joke?” he asked, when I ‘fessed up to the social-media Santa nickname, as he nibbled on the bartender’s gift of microwave popcorn. It was Chinese New Year; a celebratory firecracker screeched in the street.

“I regularly spend 12 hours a day in a room. I can’t be out in the world, but I still want to exchange information out there,” he explained. Social media is his way of showing support while buried beneath work, he said. He links people to projects, and projects to people, patting the community on the back with likes and re-tweets.

In the seven years that he’s owned The Fur — he bought it from the previous owners in 2008, just four years after starting as an intern — it’s become increasingly important for him to extend his love of the music scene beyond the studio. This means showing face at venues, promoting bands, and partnering with brands that share like-minded intent.

“It’s important for people here to be building things versus bashing,” he says, noting the city’s current debate about tech and how it’s affecting the SF music scene. (Brown recently spoke to the issue while seated on a panel of music industry folks at The Chapel, seeming relatively unfazed by the complaints and quandaries.)

“This is all awfully familiar,” he says, recalling his experiences throughout the first dot-com boom — when, much like the current, monetarily-fueled tension, swarms of musicians and sound engineers left for the promised lands of LA and New York. The music biz ached with abandonment.

While things today may appear similar, he insists they’re not the same.

“The culture of San Francisco has changed, but it doesn’t mean the music business is suffering. It may mean musicians are suffering,” he says, adding that this city isn’t particularly fair to a lot of people and industries. “Sure, musicians should be able to make a living, but not everyone is gonna make it. It’s no different with sound engineers. Do you know how many interns I’ve fired? It’s really competitive out there.”

When Brown himself began as an intern at Different Fur in 2004, the SF scene was still recouping from tech deflation. Business was dry, and Brown saw opportunity in the quiet: space to learn, fuck up, and grow. It worked. He took over as studio manager three years later, and then in 2008 he bought the whole damn rig.

“I decided to stay and make my own shit,” he says. “And now I can do whatever I want. I know it sounds cliché, but it’s true.” At the time of our interview, the studio’s calendar was booked through May, sometimes double-booked. Does The Fur hog too much of his time? He scoffs.

“I didn’t pick a career where I would make a million dollars and I didn’t pick a 9-to-5,” he says. “I work long hours for crazy people — musicians — and in the process, I’ve become one of those crazy people.”

Brown’s career path followed a nomadic, diverse education: he studied architecture in Paris, English and psychology in New York, and advertising and film in SF. He repeatedly found himself failing, bored, and planning his escape to the next shiny curriculum.

By the time art school had begun to lose its appeal, he’d begun recording a few low-key recording projects with musician friends. The needle dropped: He did a year at SF State for Music Business, following it up with two years at Ex’pression College. He was hooked.

“People always ask me if listening to the same three-minute track for 12 hours on repeat drives me nuts,” he says, shaking his head, and takes a sip of round two: a pink Mai Tai. “I love it. It was my cue — that’s how I knew I actually wanted to be a sound engineer.”

The more diverse his repertoire can be, the better: A long list of recent projects includes an Armenian classical quartet, a dance hall remix, darkwave, and a Brazilian pop group. (“They all inform each other,” he says.) Brown is also a member of the Grammy board, plays host for the Converse Rubbertracks sessions, and occasionally makes music with his buddy Robert Pera as Woof Beats. He loves throwing events, like a recent listening party for the Grouch and Eligh. His latest addition is sound consulting for GitHub, a partnership aimed at creating fruitful connections between music and tech.

To put it lightly, he’s a workhorse. The horse is, of course, the latest Chinese zodiac sign to come into its 12-year rotation and, as a 1978 baby, Brown claims stallion status. The timing is right, too, since 2013 proved rough: Steve Brodsky, one of his closest friends and cohorts, passed away, and two much-loved Fur employees gave their notice. Brown’s mood shift was palpable, the year of grieving slowly eroding his usual sarcastic banter.

But the new year is freshly upon us and there’s already a notable difference in his mood. His hooves are shiny, so to speak — geared up for the gallop ahead.

“This year I want hang time with my girlfriend…I can’t sit in front of a console for 16 hours a day,” he says with conviction, then contradicts it all by admitting he also doesn’t want to work less. He laughs. “I’m not sure how it’s going to work exactly. All I know is that I’m in a better mood about it all.”

Radio Romance


Being a radio DJ in 2014 feels oddly radical.”What do you mean ‘radio’?” people ask, totally perplexed, when I tell them what I do. It’s an independent station on the Internets, I tell them. “Can I call in?” is, without fail, their next question. Not exactly, I say, but we can tweet. It’s not your grandfather’s radio, but the perks are all there.

Web or dial, radio at a very basic level is transmission and reception. No doubt DJing now is physically different from my days on college radio — for starters, 2005 meant I was still fumbling with stacks upon stacks of CDs. Sometimes that shit would skip. Sometimes the play button would stick. Once I lost a disc under the desk and that was that — no more Brother Ali.

As a young college pup, I started as most do — manning a graveyard shift that allowed for the inevitable fuck-ups all newbies make: leaving the mic on while you sing to yourself, messy transitions, stuttering, and awkward jokes. Eventually I smoothed my nerves, developed a more seductive voice, and became master of the knobs and buttons. All my hard work earned a prime-time slot — happy hour. I had arrived. People were listening. I flirted with the idea of radio as a career.

In came the warnings. People called me brave for attempting to make my way into “dying industries”: journalism and radio. They gave me sad eyes, as if envisioning a lifetime of layoffs and corner store ramen. I picked one sinking ship over the other and continued writing. My radio days earned me iPod rights on road trips and conversations at parties, but “DJ” wasn’t even listed on my resume.

I kind of forgot about my old friend, the radio — at least in terms of working with the medium. Then came my new friend, A now four-month-old, web-based radio station housed in the Mission. The programming is a constant stream of rad, weird, new, and classic jams. The DJs are a diverse batch of local cats, bonded by their unique obsessions with music.

And so it’s official: Radio and I have rekindled our romance.

Every Friday night my human BFF, Brit Spangler, and I co-host “hello, cheetle,” two hours of ratty rock-and-roll and secrets about our whiskey habits, stoney shenanigans, pizza, merkins, and all kinds of naughty things that I’m slightly embarrassed to have my parents hear on the regular — yes, they’re dedicated listeners.

Thankfully the station founder, Amanda Guest, thinks all this is entertaining. Creepy girls being creeps is OK by BFF standards. The station aims to be the audible representation of San Francisco. Guest is beyond stoked by BFF’s growing popularity.

“Things are going prettyyyyy amazingly,” Guest tells me while sipping a gin and tonic. She’s smiling hard. “I know it’s dumb to say, since I started the station, but…I love the station. I think it’s great. It’s filling a need.”

Birthing a San Francisco radio station was the entire purpose of her move from the East Coast a couple years back. Her skeptical Massachusetts friends sent her packing for a city that might be down with such unique ambitions. The original plan included hosting the station from her and husband Forrest’s apartment, but the idea quickly outgrew the living room. “I had this dream, but it wasn’t big enough,” — her grand plans were taking shape and collecting support.

Guest — aka DJ Cosmic Amanda — craved a real broadcast studio. By a fat stroke of luck and plenty of charm, she landed a space in the fairytale-esque Peter Pan-style workspace that is the Secret Alley. Immediately she and her man began the work that would get BFF on air.

“Forrest became the station manager and pretty much handled everything else related to that department,” she says. “I was like, oh, I’ve seen a station, I know what it looks like — you just plug this into this. Clearly that is not how it works.”

Through technical concerns, financial woes, and equipment searches, the couple caressed the challenges until their lovechild of a station was born. “ is the baby I will never have,” she says, laughing — in all seriousness.

Trading potential offspring for SF music nerds, the Guest family is growing — 60 DJs now host 45 shows throughout the week. From obscure electronica and ’80s favorites to garage rock and blues, BFF’s roster goes in all directions.

“I like to say our show plays ‘high-quality’ music — no point in using genres anymore,” says Gregory Hill, who DJs as Cool Greg on Monday nights. Together with co-hosts Marisa Breall and Katie Kopacz, the trio plays tracks to complement their other shared gig, Professional Fans: show promoters, DJs, and the like.

“Our show is the perfect way to plug both the shows we are going to as fans and the ones we are going to as promoters,” says Hill. The friends see the radio as bonding space for music lovers at large: fans, bands, labels, and venues, all mingling in new ways. “BFF is creating community. There’s some real closeness happening.”

This kind of passion is exactly what Guest is cultivating. “I want to see real excitement in the DJs. Putting together a thoughtful show every week isn’t easy. It takes a certain kind of person, someone who strives to keep it fresh,” she says, being a long-time DJ herself. “It’s a job done out of love.”

I ask her if streaming ever weirds her out. Does the connection feel less real? Less radio?

“It still feels very natural to me. The delivery has changed a lot but the basic components remain,” she says.

“It’s still a person in a room, sharing with another person somewhere else. It’s people devoting their attention to a shared media,” she says. “Radio is magic.”

Tune in to on the Internets here.

POW!’s Byron Blum on staying put


When John Dwyer announced that he was leaving San Francisco for LA a few weeks ago, he caused a bit of blogosphere melodrama, to say the least. One thing that wasn’t controversial: His vocal support of the young’uns in POW!, whose album is out on Dwyer’s own Castle Face Records. With the record out this week, we caught up with Blum to hear about the passing of the baton.

I set my laptop on the wobbly table outside of Mojo Bicycle Café and make a sheepish remark about having a computer in tow for an interview I assumed would involve a plethora of tech industry shit talking. I was meeting Byron Blum, guitarist and vocalist of POW!, an SF garage trio with a ratty, fuzzy sound and a new album that pummels our city’s digital infiltration. 

“Oh, are we gonna talk about tech?” asks Blum, straight-faced with an air of disappointment in his voice. I laugh awkwardly and nod my head yes. He hands me a tortilla chip in agreement. We bond over the street we both call home, noting the usual Divisadero characters and talking favorite spots before launching into grievances about the changing landscape.

“All the quick fixes showing up around the city—the cranes everywhere, the condos—redevelopment that’s so disposable looking. Fuck this,” he says from behind round sunglasses. “Our neighborhood is so timeless, so beautiful, so San Francisco. These convenient solutions are not sustainable. I get bummed out.”

A quick listen to POW!’s debut full-length, High-Tech Boom, and it’s obvious the landscape isn’t all that’s getting Blum and his bandmates down. The album was released mere days ago on John Dwyer’s Castle Face Records, but conversations around the punchy, aggravated lyrics have been hot for weeks.  Lines like, “There’s a new breed creeping into town/they’re starting up and taking over…” and “I’m seeing red as they take away our bread” aren’t shy to point fingers at the deep-pocketed “noobs” — as coined by Dwyer in his own strongly worded press release promoting the band’s new tracks.

The audible volatility of High-Tech Boom feels spot on with the pissed-off vibes breeding in the Bay: The guitar encourages sly rebellion, the drums rabid and tense; the synth sneers and stirs. These songs birthed from a place of anger and aggression — seeing his friends displaced and then replaced with entitled strangers left Blum feeling obligated to write about the changes.
“As a songwriter, I want to have something important to say. I don’t want to just sing about cool shit,” Blum explains, clarifying that this doesn’t mean he wants to take sides in the debate or hand out advice. “I don’t have answers to what rent should be for the world. That’s not my department. I’m just writing about what’s happening in my environment. Naturally, I feel resentful after seeing what’s been happening to my friends. I wanted to be able to give something to them. “

Amidst all of this unrest, Blum seems chill, relaxed, and in general, happy with San Francisco. He attributes keeping it cool to his newfound “acceptance phase”: It is what it is, a notion he repeats when passing a fleet of corporate buses or gross construction. He repeats that it’s no one’s fault — which I take to mean he’s not blaming the individual, expensive toast-consuming, one-bedroom-renting computer cats in our hood — and reminds me that punishing those who find success isn’t fair either. Unfortunately, their success still jeopardizes that of others, and alongside Dwyer and Ty, a host of Blum’s artist friends have flown the roost in search of decent rent.

Blum isn’t packing his bags for SoCal…yet.

“I’m gonna stay until it feels right to go. I still feel like I have stuff to do here.”

POW! album release party
With Warm White, Mane
7:30pm, $5
Makeout Room, 3225 22nd St, SF


House party


MUSIC It was decided — my BFF-roommate and I would host a rock ‘n’ roll show, and like many of our favorite activities (feasting, boozing, twirling), we became set on throwing said party from the comfort of our own home. Denying our fears of venue hunting, financial commitments, and general hassle, we focused on the power rewarded to the classic hostess with the mostest; the ability to control all elements of a dirty bash and adjust them to our liking.

What bands will play? Ones we like, who also like each other. What kind of liquor will be present? Whiskey, no exceptions. What kind of snacks might we serve? None, people should bring us burritos (or in my case, homemade kimchi and quinoa — a foul smelling food for a social event that did wonders for curbing my potential hangover). Not only was this party to be at our house, but this little rock shindig would blast from our backyard on a (hopefully sunny) Sunday afternoon. Day drinking to shredding guitars? The neighbors were going to love it.

We nailed down a date and who would play, rounding out the bill with some hip DJ acquaintances. A buddy drafted a flier and the process of inviting humans began. The presence of close friends was expected and offers for help were not denied. Then we cast the net, awkwardly approaching yoga teachers, favorite baristas, local celebrities, and secret crushes. The boyfriend promised to roll deep with eligible males of various sexualities and I may have plotted some (later to be discovered unsuccessful) matchmaking. We urged bands to cart along their musician homies and peed at the thought of John Dwyer or Wymond Miles walking up our stoop in the halo of afternoon light.

Of course we had no legitimate way of predicting who would actually show up. Expect everyone who confirms to flake and everyone who rejects to bring a pack of wingmen. We crossed our fingers and braided our hair, then calmed our nerves by remembering that even if all bailed, the bands were confirmed. A show in our yard is still a show in our yard. Guaranteed win. Oh yes, and we had a fuck-ton of beer — free of charge. We miraculously managed to get the party “sponsored,” which allowed us to collect donations for the dudes on stage. Major bonus.

While party planning seemed to be sailing, our biggest concern loomed: the noise complaint. A similar party we hosted in June garnered 22 calls to the SFPD — thankfully our only injury was a slap on the wrist and some sneers. In anticipation of upset, I baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies from mom’s recipe and skipped up the stairs of the neighboring stoop, treats in tow.

With the oldies next door sugared up, I called the SFPD for the lawful scoop and learned that cop arrival is completely tattletale-based. Officers can only issue a citation if the party pooper signs a citizen’s arrest. This is why you ALWAYS INVITE THE NEIGHBORS. If the uniforms still rap on your door: answer it, shoot the shit, and promise to cool it, ASAP. Our biggest takeaway: short sets. By the time the doorbell rings, they’ll be singing the encore. “It’s their last song, officer. I promise,” perfectly compliments a drunk wink.

So, after weeks of planning and a morning full of chaotic setup, we were crazy high on anticipation. I forgot to shower. I drank everyone’s coffee. I zoomed down the block for incense — “to set the mood,” I shouted. And then all we could do was wait for the madness to begin.

Heads banged. Hair was tangled. Happiness was found at the bottom of countless empty cases. People climbed the fire escape for a better view of the bands, while my exes pleasantly mingled in the garden below. The cops dropped by, as anticipated, but left without trouble. My dream of getting a mug shot will have to wait.

The freedom of a privately hosted show put everyone in a tender mood and it felt overwhelmingly blissful to support local music in independent fashion. The party was a complete success, depending on how you measure extreme happiness and unfathomable coolness. And OK, we were hammered. Everything is a delightful blur and I ended up wrestling in the gravel. You can do what you want at your own house — people can’t say shit. All the more reason why we’re already planning the next round. See you there.


The procrastinator’s Treasure Island Music Festival to-do list


From snatching that perfect pair of tolerably uncomfortable shoes to sourcing stamina-inducing party favors, pre-music festival preparations are key.

Unfortunately I’m a procrastinator to the highest degree  — a gal who thrives on the thrill of a deadline and thereby ends up highly caffeinated on Saturday morning, buzzing between projects: weaving flower crowns with foliage from the backyard, trying on all my bras in search of the one that will best cozy my flask, baking sugary snacks that minimize long line-induced irritation, taking shots, doing lunges, and yelping with excitement.

I am also a big fan of the to-do list. And since the Treasure Island Music Festival is a personal favorite fully laced with woozy, mushy memories, I’m getting a few-day head start on this year’s to-do list to make sure the fest goes swimmingly. (Treasure Island Music Festival takes place this Sat/19-Sun/20.

My Treasure Island To-Do List

1. Cool it — I ain’t makin’ no schedule.

Treasure Island is the perfect babysitter for indecisive music-lovers. I’m gonna shuffle between stages, passing beer tents and high-fiving neighbors, co-workers, and awkward exes along the way. I’m confident in my ability to mosey into just the right kind of trouble.

2. Valet that bike — make someone else worry about parking.

No lock means I can save the room in the mini backpack for a burrito (aka tallboy wrapped in a tortilla).

3. Booze on the way — duh.

Whisky pulls during the 15-minute bus ride make for happy islanders.  

4. Sail away — time to flirt starboard side.

People have boats. Companies are chartering boats. All I’m saying is that there are boat rides to be had. There’s also rumor that one of said vessels will have the boys of Lord Huron on deck. Time to swoon in my stripes.

5. Show up early — fashionably late isn’t fashionable.

I always foolishly take my damn time and land on the island mid-afternoon, sorta sour and wishing I had just packed a bag brunch and picnicked on the grass. Quit pretending like there are better things to do — it’s an island, with music, and sunshine. Done.

6. Pack smart — not light.

Is that sandwich too heavy? Is that trail mix hurting my back? No it’s not because it’s in my belly and I’m happy. The food on site provides a nice array of local fare, but there’s no rule against brining some of your own treats, too.

7. Convince the HAIM sisters to be my bffs — get crafty.

I sincerely think we’d make great friends. We could braid each other’s long locks, listen to records while drinking milkshakes, and swap leather jackets. The plan: make friendship bracelets these girls can’t refuse. Camp DIY will have all the supplies and badass crafter, Kelly Malone of Workshop SF will be on island to make sure things are just as charming as they are rock and roll.
8. Track down the balloon chain guy. Just because.

9. Be sunset ready — no bathroom line or trinket shopping during the ball drop.

The sun will set at approximately 6:25 both evenings, meaning I’ll be feeling some sky love during Major Lazer’s set Saturday and James Blake come Sunday. Take a puff and make a thoughtful toast to that beautiful Bay called home.

10. Make-out on the 60-foot Century Ferris Wheel — no excuses.

11. Watch Nelson Loskamp cut people’s hair…from afar.

He tapes you down, covers your eyes and mouth, and sonically hacks at your hair with sound-wired scissors. I don’t understand what this means but I’m terrified and beyond curious.
12. Throw down — then stretch.

“When a fire starts to burn, right? And starts to spread? She gonna bring that attitude to halt…”

13. Get weird with strangers — we’re all smashed together anyway.  

A few dirty lyrics, pulsing bass, and silky voices — acts like Antwon and Little Dragon could encourage a few folks to get fresh. I’ll be sure to provide encouragement.

14. Be observant — and/or some light stalking.

Where or where will the Atoms For Peace crew be hanging out post show? How about Animal Collective? Beck? I probably wouldn’t be able to speak if I find them, but I’m not ashamed to drool in their presence.

15. Solid prep — Monday is for recovery.

Start that fake cough on Friday in order to avoid all work, responsibilities, and obligations come Monday. Sleigh Bells is sure to have me wrecked and amped for hooky.

Porn, punked?


SEX + MUSIC Girls put out for bands. Thrashing drums and driving bass have been known to leave a babe or two with autographed cleavage, missing panties, and a backstage pass. Sacramento band Get Shot!, the self-proclaimed “sleaziest punk band in the world,” decided to reap more than the usual rewards from its crew of exhibitionist groupies, starting a porn site —, of course — that combines its members’ greatest loves: naked girls and rock and roll.

The idea isn’t exactly radical at its core. Sites like SuicideGirls, God’s Girls, and BurningAngel all encourage masturbation to the same platter of “alt” women: tattoos, piercings, short bangs, and thick eyeliner, usually with few diverse options in terms of shape, size, and ethnicity.

But GetShotGirls is a great PR move — visit the site and you get a few girls, plus a lot of Get Shot! And bandleader J.P. Hunter argues GetShotGirls has a fresh perspective: women sans airbrushing paired with hard-to-discover NorCal punk music. He swears there’s more to it than horny male rockers capitalizing off willing fans and their own egos. But the proof is in the porn. We called him up to pry for more details.

SFBG: You say rock is too serious today. Is there as much stimulation during your live shows as your site offers?

J.P. Hunter: Yeah, there’s stimulation all right. I cum on the crowd during the last song.

SFBG: Wait, what?

JPH: We’re not a gimmick band, but during our last song I do end up wearing a four-and-a-half foot long penis that shoots whipped cream. People start licking it off each other and everything. Feels great. Feels really great. I especially like to aim for couples.

SFBG: Sounds like you’ve got a great thing going onstage. Why move to Web porn?

JPH: I’m capitalizing on having fun. Porn is a fun, interesting industry. I’ve been doing a lot of research on what’s out there and over the years corporate backing has gone up while quality has gone down. But we’re all natural, with little-to-no editing. We’re committed to keeping girls in natural settings and giving them full creative control. Then we feature unsigned bands in our movies. Soon we’ll have a radio station. We’ve already got music from about 50 bands ready to go. We’re not just promoting ourselves, we want to promote all unsigned artists. We want to be just as rock and roll-oriented as we are porn-oriented.

SFBG: So who are the girls on the site?

JPH: Some are friends. We’ve also put up ads. Started getting girls for band photo shoots and met girls coming to shows. We start a friendship with them, they dance for us, and then we take their pictures. Some do it for their own personal portfolios. Some like the female empowerment, power over men through seduction. And they like us. We’re nice and fun to hang out with.

SFBG: Let’s be real: Are you doing this to get laid?

JPH: Actually no. I’ve been in a relationship for a couple years now. My girlfriend, Jilian Haze, does makeup and hair for all the models.

SFBG: You have a new female bass player, Laura Lush. What does she think?

JPH: Laura is a sexually open person. She contacted GetShotGirls about modeling for the site. Shortly after, she saw that we were looking for a bass and ended up being a great fit. She’s a tough chick — she broke both her legs at a Death Angel concert. And she’s bisexual.

SFBG: What about including some naked boys for the ladies and gay boys who like punk? And how about adding more diversity? So far all your ladies are pretty similar…and white.

JPH: We just did a photo shoot with a Mexican girl. And there’s an Asian girl on the site. But yeah, we definitely want to expand on that. I don’t think we’ll go the gay route because we don’t have to, marketwise. And we’re a heterosexual band. But we do want to add more girl-on-girl action. Straight women like lesbian porn.

SFBG: Once you get more cash flow, what’s your next step for the site?

JPH: A movie with a band getting fucked after their show, behind stage, by groupies.


Fear not Folsom first-timers: advice through the lens of local photographers


Folsom weekend has arrived and if you’re new to the game, you’ve got all kinds of decisions to contemplate before running out onto the leather field. Those who trot through the gates minus preparation are still going to win on visuals and play, but those who put in just a minute of pre-fair prep will really score– hard. The best place to garner suggestions is obviously via a Folsom veteran, but take it a step further and open your orifices to advice from those who not only make it a point to attend, but whose job it is to professionally observe, capture, and display erotic action at the fair and beyond.

Fear No Art features 17 local photographers and a body of work that will make you cum, gasp, smile, and laugh (not necessarily in that order). From intense bondage, hardcore sex, pretty toys, notes on death and loss, and even a woman strung like a harp, this collection is going to get you all revved up for the weekend’s plethora of sexual opportunities. Since these photographs are more so for offering inspiration and not the obvious logistical advice you may need for your first-time Folsom adventure, a handful of the artists have offered up some helpful hints to get you off in the right direction.


Patti Beadles

SFBG: Give us a couple notes on etiquette– what to do or not to do? Are there rules?

Beadles: Be respectful. Don’t touch people without permission. Looking is OK but gawking is tacky. Try not to sound like a drunken frat boy by making crude passes at people. 

SFBG: What to wear? Ahh, the choices!

Beadles: Wear whatever you feel comfortable and sexy in. Leather is good. Lace is good. Heels are good. Boots are good. Whatever you wear, remember that you have to spend the afternoon in it while walking around in the hot sun!



Morgan Weinert

SFBG: Give us three must-sees for newbies.

Weinert: 1. The boot black stand at the intersection of Dore and Folsom. Make sure to tip your boot black! 2. Venus’ Playground. Great performances are open for all to watch but the women/trans only space is a great place to get out of the crowd. 3. The booth is a crazy place to watch some interesting public performances. The models and directors never hold back!

SFBG: What to wear? It’s so last minute…

Weinert: Multi-Kulti is a great place to get fishnet body suits, sequined booty-shorts, and false eyelashes. Clothes Contact is full of awesome vintage lingerie and great dresses– most of it sold by the pound!



Michael Rosen

SFBG: Name your absolute must-try?

Rosen: Five dollars gets you three minutes of spanking, flogging, or foot worship via one of the ladies of Fantasy makers, a local BDSM establishment. Five dollars can also get you three minutes to fondle the ample breasts of a beautiful, green-haired lady. All proceeds go to charity, this year to the Center for Sex and Culture. 

SFBG: What should I wear?

Rosen: Dress to impress, or not. Nudity is OK; wear clothing you can stuff into a fanny pack. The police are cool, but they will tell you to stop any sexual touching. Bring your camera. Leave your “certified panty/jockstrap inspector” t-shirt at home. It’s OK to wear a law enforcement officer’s uniform, as long as it’s not from the SF Police. 


Mim Weisburd

SFBG: Three must-sees?

Weisburd: 1. Fear No Art Exhibit 2. My Daddy’s hot ass 3. All your friends nekkid in the sunshine

SFBG: How about a must-try?

Weisburd: Something you have never ever done before.



Shilo McCabe

SFBG: Thoughts on etiquette?

McCabe: 1. Please refrain from taking photos without permission. 2. Don’t touch anyone without permission– seriously. Just because someone is showing a little (or a lot!) of skin doesn’t mean it’s there for you to touch. 3. Leave the kids at home! It’s kind of unnerving to see parents pushing strollers or walking around with toddlers in hand.

SFBG: What to wear?

McCabe: I always suggest to my friends that the most important things to wear are sunscreen and shit-kicking boots– in case you have to kick shit. 



Fear No Art (Opening Reception)

Fri/23, 7 p.m. to 11 p.m., donations accepted 

Mark I Chester studio

1229 Folsom St, SF

SF’s sluttiest blogger brings the sexy circus to town


Forget clowns, acrobats, and bedazzled animals and step right up to a stage full of erotic stimulation, play, and perversion at Fleur De Lis SF’s Very Sexy Circus. The sex-positive blogger is throwing the big-top themed bash as a finale to the year she spent documenting her exploration of sex in this city, with the evening’s entertainment made up of the crazy pervs she met along the way. From BDSM eye-candy to bawdy comedy and hands-on educational demos, this show ain’t no tight-rope and monkey act. 

When the seventh of August rolled around last month, Fleur De Lis SF, a.k.a. Vanessa, said she was nearly in tears. It was the end of an era, a wild year of kissing (and/or sucking, fucking, teasing, experimenting, spanking, coming) and telling. She tried animal play, cracked the whip, attended super-secret parties, got dirty, played hard and worked hard, all for the sake of the blog… and personal exploration, of course. 

“The blog was a nice excuse to try things, but this year really helped me discover what I like and what I don’t,” says Vanessa while sipping coffee on a Friday morning. “For example, now I know that I really enjoy group sex and orgies. It takes a particular person to get into it and turns out, I’m one of them.” Putting insecurities, inhibitions, and hesitations aside, Vanessa says the year made her a stronger, more confident, sexually satisfied being. Pretty sure sex sabbaticals should be mandatory for everyone. 


The local sex celebs turned Circus performers 

“I’ve always been sexual and I’ve always liked to tell my stories privately,” she says, recounting the numerous times her friends would beg for the juicy details over dinner.

Before, spilling these randy tales outside of that trust circle never seemed like a good idea for fear of stigmatization. Even in 2011, most female-identified persons who openly talk about their sexual explorations aren’t given high-fives and kudos. Vanessa wants this double standard to change, which is why she started blogging and getting extra honest about her endeavors; initially under the pen name Fleur De Lis, then with her first name. When she happily accepted the title of the Guardian’s “Sluttiest Blogger of the Year”, her boss found out and fired her. 

“I’m a certified paralegal. I’m an educated woman. I’m not stupid. Yet because I’m a woman, I’m put into that category– I’m ‘that type of girl’ who supports ‘that kind of lifestyle’,” she says with a frustrated sigh, questioning and challenging what those types of labels even mean. “If I was a dude, my boss probably would have thought my blog was great and would have wanted to talk more about it.”


Performer Monika and the “slutty” blogger showing off some lovely assets

She continued to write and eventually landed some legal work with a group of people who are okay with the concept of a personal life. Now she hopes her willingness to being open and honest about kinky-ness will help pave a trail for other women struggling to overcome cultural bias. The best part about being Vanessa again? She can do whatever the hell she wants. 

“My life belongs to me again. Fucking in a fishbowl has been difficult — everyone knowing everything, but people need to be reminded that sometimes sex isn’t personal. Sometimes its a great stress reliever. Or it’s just fun to try interesting things. It’s my life and I’m free to make these choices.”

Vanessa wanted to put on The Sexy Circus to share these valuable life lessons and she really hopes people who may be interested in being more experimental and want to begin exploring their curiosities can view this celebration as a jumping off point. From suspension to burlesque, The Circus will give the audience a big, fat taste of the SF sex community and send everyone home craving more of their favorite flavors. 


Performer Reid Mihalko needs a good taming

“Hope to see you all under my big top,” says Vanessa on the flier for the event, which is also “make-out friendly”, meaning while this bundle of performances won’t equate to a full-on sex party, the vibe will definitely be flirty. Vanessa is all about encouraging play and where better than the circus. 


Under Fleur De Lis SF’s Big Top: A Very Sexy Circus

Sat/17, 8 p.m., $20

Center for Sex and Culture

1349 Mission, SF


Perfecting the slap and tingle of a proper spank


The traditional open-handed spank is quintessential in its own right, but a good ripe slap on the rump is only level one. For anyone interested in upping their BDSM ante, spanking is the perfect gateway drug to a world of slapping, whacking, and tapping, all easily played in your preferred pain bracket, from tickle to squeal, with hand or cane. If you’re unsure of these options, need direction or just want to watch a hour of spanking demos, local sex-positive kink-geek Kitty Stryker promises to school you in all things spank.

The spanking play-shop happens Saturday as pre-game to Threshold, Mission Control‘s “fungeon” party, a more playful take on the usual sex shindig, mixing rough sex with art, spunk and lots of toys. Although most of the attendees will probably know a fair amount about giving and taking a good thrashing, Ms. Stryker plans to intrigue her class with suggesting some of her favorites and creative approaches to a seemingly simple act. “So maybe you’ve done spanking, barehanded, but maybe you haven’t thought about wearing latex gloves or punching,” she says.

Kitty Stryker is all up in the San Francisco kink scene and has her claws in a variety of roles, from sex work to sex education, but she doesn’t necessarily consider herself a ‘professional spanker,’ regardless of how lovely the title might look on a business card. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m a pro-spanker, but as a professional top, spanking is among the things I do. I’m more of a spank aficionado,” she clarifies. “I find myself saying, ‘ooh I like the quality of that wood’ or ‘ooh, these leather gloves’ and thinking about how I could use the materials with my bag of tricks.” 



A passing construction worker begged for a spank during Kitty’s photoshoot and she let him have it. Photo by BrodyQat

Kitty’s literal bag of tricks will join her for the class and she’s prepared to wind-up with paddles, canes, and even some sort of horse bridle accessory, which she says is a bit like a carpet beater. Her most important accessory is, of course, a good bottom. First things first: “I found myself a cute demo bottom and we’re in the process of negotiating what we can do together.” Learning what your partner wants should always be top priority. Kitty suggests making the conversation into a fun confessional: What’s your pain threshold? Do you like stingy sensations? Play a game of 20 questions and everyone will win.

“All these implements create such different feelings and it’s critical that you know what your partner likes. If someone only likes thuddy pain and you’re using a thin rod, it’s not going to work out well for you guys.”


Kitty paddling a chick. Photo by Leng Montgomery. 

Accessories aside, Kitty hopes to get people thinking about spanking possibilities beyond the bottom. The body has a whole lot of places prime for a smack, but they’re often overlooked. Some of her favorites? The soles of the feet and palms– high five anyone? Kitty must have a secret. Luckily she’s willing to share.



Sat/3, 9 p.m.,  $30

Mission Control

2519 Mission, SF

Getting to the bottom of Anal Sex Month


Open wide, sweet cheeks: August is for anal. Swap out this weekend’s BBQ plans and invite over a couple extra hands to give your rump the stimulating attention it deserves. Whether you’ve already succumbed to a heavy load of action in the previous weeks or you’re still feeling a bit shy about unlocking the back door, San Francisco’s adult-only retailers have some toys that will have you bending over with joy. 

While it has yet to reach Halmark holiday status, Anal Month does have a long-standing history (as “proved” by these mock-up ads). This celebration of bottom pleasure comes with the slogan, “Give in to haste and remain chaste” and encourages men and women to think outside the box when tempted by prenuptial, promiscuous desires. Today anal is cherished not as an alternative, but as an addition. The best thing about butts? Everybody has one and the all-inclusive play works well with fingers, lips, tounges, and of course, a variety of store-bought options. 

With only one week left, it’s time to get some gear for your rear. Check out these locally-foraged suggestions:



“Romeo Silicone Anal Toy” from Good Vibrations

Good Vibrations has full shelves lined with props promising deep rectal pleasure, but if you’re uncertain where to start, take a peek at their online shopping guide before heading into the store or be brave and ask an employee for suggestions. These pretty magenta beads are slim at the top and grow wider down the string, making this toy ideal for testing the waters. When things get good, pull out one bead at a time to intesify your climax. 


The “Amber Swirl” from Glass Kandi

Web shop Glass Dildo Me, has a wide web selection but head into their physical shop Glass Kandi, to see the gleaming glass beauties for yourself. Not only are they stunning visually, but glass dildos are hypoallergenic, odor free, and non-deteriorating. With a proper cleaning, even the dirtiest of play washes right off. If you like it hard, this toy offers absolute firmness and minimal friction with some super glossy lube. Get it hot, get it cold, this amber-colored gem will hold just what you like. 


“World’s Most Comfortable Butt Plug” from Mr. S Leather

Size large either looks intimidating or incredibly inviting– lucky for all, Mr. S Leather carries seven sizes in their signature plug, from mini to XXXL. They’re made of solid aluminum and can be worn for hours on end, fitting snug and hugging close to your prostate (if you have one, of course). Contrary to the way in-and-out of a dildo, butt plugs are meant to stay in place, filling up the anal cavity and adding intensity to an orgasm or an exciting walk around town. 

PSIgasm explores the science of the climax


Kinsey was an obvious pioneer of sexy science and the sexual revolution was sparked in the decades after his first studies contributed hard facts about human sexuality, but at this point his findings needs refreshing.

But instead of intensified sexual investigations, our country is regressing and the frigidness of conservative politics tied up with the pharmaceutical industry have pushed sex nerds away from researching healthy bodies to focus their attention on limp studies — deficiencies, dysfunction, and anything else that can be prescribed.

The PSIgasm Project, a Bay Area sex-positive research project, wants to jump back into the fun stuff and track down just what exactly the the big “o” does to the human body.

It may look like a super powerful dildo, but the PSIgasm is actually a fancy scienticfic device that records changes in body temperature, heat capacity, heart rate, blood volume, moisture, and movement; all signs pointing to orgasm. The smart instrument of pleasure was concieved in 2010 by Ned Mayhem, a PhD candidate in experimental physics at UC Berkeley and his lover Maggie Mayhem, an HIV prevention specialist, both of whom are sex positive activists, queer porn performers. The aim of their project is simple: to get people off and simaltaeously monitor the physiological responses correlated with arousal and orgasm. You can almost hear this city full of tech geeks pleading, “more, more!”

“The idea that the reactions to sex can be quantified blows their minds,” says Mr. Mayhem of excited audeinces and test subjects who have been introduced to the project. “Sex is usually talked about in a kind of ‘woo-woo’ way, but what’s going on in your body are real physical processes. When you’re turned on, it’s not just your mental state, or magic divorced from your body. It’s actual chemicals, flowing.”


The scientific shaft, version II

Mr. Mayhem is currently bulking up version three of the PSIgasm, which involves a lot of technical tweaking and electronics upgrading to make sure it’s reliable enough for vigerous, all-night, hot and heavy testing. The plan is to record data from people with all different anatomies, gender identities, ages and cultures, engaged in sex for various reasons and in different places, like dungens, bedrooms, and backseats. If there were ever a research study that would gain ethusiastic volunteers in this city, PSIgasm would be it. 

The Mayhems want their findings to not only inform people about the wonders of their own bodies, but dispute society’s widespread misconceptions of “normal” sex by showing conclusive data that people orgasm from differnt types of action, both soft and rough, wild and quiet. The mobility of the PSIgasm will also keep the data honest by allowing individuals using the smart dildo to play privately however they please, without white lab coats standing over their shoulder.

Eventaully Mr. Mayhem plans to make all of the PSIgasm’s designs public so people can build their own equipement and anonomously share their data.

For the time being, he’s working the projects presentation for Arse Elektronika, which may or may not include a live demonstration. Now that sounds like exciting science!

San Francisco’s chance at seeing 3D porn goes flat


If you thought wizards and animated toys were fun in 3D, imagine putting on a pair of those nerdy glasses and getting popped in the face by some erect nipples. Sex on the big screen is always a thrill, but the Chinese film, Sex and Zen, is taking eroticism to a whole new dimension (corny pun intended) and is sure to get viewers foolishly grasping at the seemingly tangible passion. Keep your hands at your sides, San Franciscans; unfortunately the film’s debut in our city will only be offered in standard 2D.

Based on the ancient Chinese novel, The Prayer Mat of Flesh, and a remake of the 1991 film with the same name, Sex and Zen claims to be a bold, sexual comedy about a lustful scholar’s sexual adventures to become the ideal lover for his new wife. Practice makes perfect and therefore the film is packed with colorful sex and stars a roster of hot bods, including Japanese porn stars Hara Saori and Suo Yukiko and Hong Kong actress Vonnie Liu. Sex and Zen is considered soft-core, so don’t get your hopes up for massive erections or explosive female ejaculation, but you can still get your shameless 3D kicks with gags featuring jiggly breasts and a gigantic horse cock. 

So why is the Bay Area being teased and then restricted from the 3D amusement? Sex and Zen’s distributor, China Lion Film Distribution, brings about 15 films a year to the US, usually without issue, but this film’s mix of campy-eroticism earned a NC-17 rating from Motion Picture Association of America, meaning big, fat corporate theaters weren’t interested in showing the movie and most smaller, independent art house theaters don’t have the ability to show in the third dimension. China Lion CEO and Kiwi Milt Barlow, says in general, finding happy host screens in the US has been a battle, but San Francisco seems to be the biggest loser in this round.

“On the surface, America is a very conservative country and I find it quite puzzling. It’s supposed to be the land of free speech, sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll,” says Barlow, chuckling, although audibly disappointed. “Americans invented porn, didn’t they?”

According to the MPAA, NC-17 simply means the film contains visuals “most parents would consider patently too adult for their children 17 and under” and “does not mean ‘obscene’ or ‘pornographic’ in the common or legal meaning of those words, and should not be construed as a negative judgment in any sense.” Many corporate theaters uphold policies that restrict the showing of anything past the ‘R’ rating. When you take a glimpse at the types of programming available on cable or even prime-time TV, it feels likely some creepy censorship shit. 

“You can see some pretty rugged stuff on Showtime. Sex and Zen is not a porn– it’s an erotic farce. It’s slapstick and campy.”

The film’s popularity on opening night in Hong Kong surpassed Avatar and stripped the original, highly popular Sex and Zen from its title for highest grossing adult film. Barlow, and I’m guessing many a San Franciscan, are hoping that this potential cult classic will garner a positive response from other theaters in the US who are showing in 3D, such as Dallas, Portland and LA, and eventually swing back around in its intended form. Until then, our hands are tied, and not in a fun way. Boo America. 


Sex and Zen

Fri/12, check theater website for showtimes

Four Star Theater

2200 Clement St., SF

(415) 666-3488


The Crash Pad Series celebrates episode 100 with a list of San Francisco pleasures


Fierce femmes, bashful bois, fisting, wrestling, squirting, and squealing, The Crash Pad is one fictional apartment that any voyeur would love to call neighbor. Lucky for all, the key to this hotbed of locally produced, randy queer porn is under the mat and everyone is invited to crack the door and peek inside at the Pad’s celebration for hitting the triple digits.

The Crash Pad Series started in 2007 as the genius creation of Pink & White Productions, a film company that prides themselves on “beautifully fucked and beautifully produced” explorations in queer sex. The simple premise of the series keeps things hot and honest, nothing cheesy and nothing fake; the authenticity of pleasure is a big bonus in viewing quality. The rotating cast of characters are just as diverse as the sex itself and site subscribers can watch their favorites in action, scan stills from the shoot, and hear all the dirty details from performers in the behind the scenes interviews. Pink & White’s owner Shine Louise Houston chose genderqueer pornstar Jiz Lee and feminist porn icon Nina Hartley, (who many will recognize from Boogie Nights and a large collection of instructional videos popular in the ’90s) to hash it out for number 100. There’s a whole lot of chemistry between the daring duo and they waste little time before taking off the boots and getting down to the good stuff: saucy cock-sucking, female ejaculation, strap-ons, breath control, and impact play. 

“No poop, no blood, no glitter,” the only rules of the Pad, says performer Jiz Lee. “The first two are because the Credit Card company won’t allow it. The last is because the stuff is impossible to clean up.” Letting the pornstars control of the actions always turns out to be a major turn on. 

In honor of the show’s big birthday, The Guardian asked some of the Crash Pad’s regular performers to put-out and offer up their favorite San Francisco pleasures. 


SFBG: Name 5 things in San Francisco that turn you on.

Nina Hartley: Center for Sex and Culture, Good Vibrations, Greens restaurant, Colibri restaurant, and Absinthe restaurant.

Jiz Lee: My bicycle, El Rio’s back patio, Muir Beach, community gardens, and swimming.

Minax: Kabuki Spa, SF Citadel, my private play space, yoga with Skeeter, Bi-Rite!

James Darling: Mr. S Leather, ice cream from Bi-Rite, Vixen dildos, Eros, and the Center for Sex and Culture.


SFBG: What 4 places in the Bay would make hot Crash Pad field-trip episodes?

Stealth Machine: Sutro Baths, Marin Headlands, the grave yard at Mission Dolores (sacrilege!) and El Rio!

Scarlett Chaos: Dolores Park, the Lex, [somewhere with] the Golden Gate bridge in the background, the pier, the Armory.  

Kitty Stryker: Sutro Baths (mmm, outdoor cruising), the Looking Glass dungeon, a warehouse space in Oakland (Nimby, perhaps?), the Albany [Bulb].

Madison Young: The Lexington, Wicked Grounds, the Center for Sex and Culture, and Mojo Café. 


SFBG: Who are 3 of the sexiest San Franciscans you know?

Stealth Machine: Lance Holman (Mr SF Leather 2010), Annie Danger, and Storm Miguel Florez.

Minax: Jiz Lee, Carol Queen, and Annie Sprinkle.

Madison Young: Princess Donna, Syd Blakovich, and Ceci Dolores.

Ian Sparks: Jiz Lee, Nic Switch, Vid Tuesday (oops, he just moved to Oakland).


SFBG: Where are 2 great places for outdoor sex in the Bay? 

Jiz Lee: Dolores Park, Travel Lodge roof top.

Syd Blakovich: Sutro Baths and handjobs on the F line from Fisherman’s Wharf to the Castro.

Kitty Stryker: I love having sex on top of Twin Peaks looking out over the city! Tilden Park is nice for foresty fun.

Tristan Crane: On the rooftop of our apartment buildings, in the middle of Folsom Street during the street fair. Sort of dirty, but also a rite of passage. 


SFBG: If San Francisco had a signature sex position or kind of play, what would it be?

Nina Hartley: Pansexual play parties.

Jiz Lee: San Francisco’s signature sex position would be a big, throbbing, wet, FIST.

James Darling: Gangbang with friends.

Maxine Holloway: Is a big queer orgy kitten pile a position?


Mark Mulroney uses repressed Catholicism to explore sex and gore


Artist Mark Mulroney learned his ABCs in Catholic school but his spongey child-brain soaked up a lot more than just textbook facts and bible versus. The gigantic boobs, guts and bloody wounds, horrified men, sweet girls, and hilariously exaggerated genitalia present in Mulroney’s current exhibition, “Sent Upstate”, is far from holy, but he likes to give the church credit where due.

Mulroney didn’t exactly realize the severity of the images he had been exposed to in the church until he started drawing as a teen. The violent stories, bloodshed and the relentless guilt surrounding sex started to show up in his doodles, mixing with comic book clippings and album cover art. All grown-up, Mulroney isn’t afraid to be honest about where his ideas on sex and death derived from and a quick stroll around “Sent Upstate” at The Guerrero Gallery will give you shivers and tingles. Should you be offended? Turned-on? Maybe you should laugh? Mulroney’s artist statement says it best, “People don’t want to die and they want to have sex.” Still, it’s best to hear Mulroney explain things a bit further.



 “Savage Love”


SFBG: What was the inspiration for “Sent Upstate” collection?

Mark Mulroney: I had six weeks to turn it around so I didn’t have time to overthink. I just relied on my usual methods: put a boner on something or make it bleed.

SFBG: What are some of your primary inspirations for all that sex and creepiness?

Mulroney: My work helps me understand the world, however tripe or cliché that sounds. And a lot of it has to do with what I saw in Catholic school. You don’t realize the gravity of things you’re looking at when you’re really young. So violent, but you don’t realize it until you look back. Like, I when I was five, I saw a picture of a Saint being filleted. Odd, isn’t that? So what I’m doing now is making sense of the influential images I was exposed to during age five to 18. What was I looking at back then and how did it shape me?

SFBG: What are some other specific images you remember?

Mulroney: Someone’s eyes being lit on fire by the holy spirit. Now that makes for some fantastic imagery. I did a lot of drawing as a kid. I’d look at album covers of Black Sabbath and this one from Sub Humans with a guy being shot in the head. I learned how to draw through Catholic school and record covers. 



“That’s My Wife You’re Fucking”


SFBG: Do you really think about those things while you’re creating or is it more subconscious?

Mulroney: I don’t overthink anything. The rule is make work I would want to look at. Sex and death? That’s work I want to see and then I just make it fit together somehow.

SFBG: Is the work meant to make your stomach churn? Mine did a little.

Mulroney: Well you don’t get a free pass—every action has consequences. I suppose that’s a Catholic thing. No matter what you do, you’re going to pay for it somehow. In most of my imagery there is someone having a good time, coupled with another image of a person not having a good time.

SFBG: Where do you get inspiration for all the sexual imagery?

Mulroney: Library book sales. I go to a lot of thrift store with my wife and brother.

SFBG: Describe a few recent finds.

Mulroney: Outside of buffalo NY I found five, small photo albums. Polaroid size. All images were of a guy taking a picture of his boner, different positions, different days. No face, just this guy’s boner. I got it for five bucks. Why were you collecting pictures of your boner. Can’t anticipate finding that. Why is this out there? What did you get out of this—was it a gift. Everything everything ends up at swap meet or thrift store, like this handcarved wood box I found with a women’s diaphragm in it. And Argentina is fantastic place to find self-published home pornography from swingers clubs in the 50s. This kind of stuff totally informs everything I do. I’m so curious about this stuff. I’m not being judgmental, I just have a curiosity for why people do what they do.

SFBG: Do you think your work turns people on?

Mulroney: Ya. I get emails about being people turned on and then I get emails about people complaining that my work is too gratitutius. This one women had a crush on Veronica from Archie, at the time I was using her picture a lot and this woman loved the work. She wanted to pay me to draw Veronica masturbating, with green smoke coming out of her vagina– what? Like what? I just couldn’t fathom…why the green smoke? So funny. 

SFBG: Did you draw it?

Mulroney: I emailed her back to ask some sizing questions and she never replied. She wanted to pay me $25, but man, I would have done it anyway. She had the balls to ask for that. I old have done it for free.




SFBG: What’s up with all the super, gigantic boobs in your work?

Mulroney: Goes back to when I was five. My dad had a Playboy with a blonde woman, standing on top of waterfall in a 70s jungle setting. She had really big boobs and I thought to myself, “This is really something I think I like. Those are fantastic.” And bigger boobs are more fun to draw than small ones. There’s so much comic potentioal in boobs and wieners. I haven’t found comedy in vaginas— I can’t seem to find a way to draw them in a way that doesn’t make them slightly scary.  

SFBG: Is drawing vaginas a current goal?

Mulroney: Ha! Not a goal. Usually when I move from one house to the next I change my focus. When I lived in San Francisco, you would think I would have made more sexual work but there was so much around that I didn’t need to participate. When I moved to upstate New York, the sex stuff started coming out. You don’t see bodies there. It’s too remote, non-stop grey, cold snow.

SFBG: Maybe you should to an island of men so you can work on your vag drawings?

Mulroney: Ya or go to prison. Then it would happen. I could do tattoos on people as a trade for cigarettes and things.


Marky Mulroney “Sent Upstate” 

With Charles Linder’s “Swimmingly, With Watermelons and Referrals”

Through Aug. 6

Guerrero Gallery

2700 19th St., SF

(415) 400-5168



Opening up the [SSEX BBOX]


What turns you on? Why do you use a condom? How do you define your gender? From Spain to Germany, Brazil and the US, the documentary series [SSEX BBOX] poses honest questions about sex and sexuality and asks for blunt, no-fuss answers in return. The culmination of these stories is a refreshing challenge to the pre-disposed definitions around sexuality. [SSEX BBOX]’s short videos and new magazine are tearing open binary-ridden boxes and letting real life spill out.

[SSEX BBOX] began as a social justice film project two years ago to create awareness and accessibility around sexuality issues worldwide. The project’s odd spelling is a play on the four cities being explored: San Francisco, Sao Paulo, Barcelona and Berlin, which were primarily chosen due to the locations of project leaders, but also for their unique cultural perspectives. Brazilian director Priscilla Bertucci says exposing the differences between the sex-positive cities is one of her favorite aspects of the project, noting the challenge of sexism present in Latin counties and the inherent gendering in the Latin languages, in which every noun is assigned to be either male or female. Bertucci loves that [SSEX BBOX] will facilitate discussions between these countries and hopes the information trade will help make positive changes in all cities.



A gem from the must-see-twice [SSEX BBOX] photo collection

Film crews in all locations have been interviewing everyone from sex educators, kinks and queers, to anyone interested in sharing their opinions on topics like relationships, sexual orientation, anal, sex work, and polyamory. The mission of the project is to explore sex without shame, fear, or hesitation. A voice in one video asks, “What would a sexually healthy society look like? Are you sexually satisfied?” San Franciscans may raise their hands and cheer but it’s easy to forget that these questions may not fare so well outside of our sex-friendly Bay; all the more reason we should be asking. 


[SSEX BBOX] is still in the filming stages, but a preliminary collection of videos are already on their site as a precursor to what will become a full-on 15-episode series beginning in January 2012. In the mean time, the project has decided put out a series of pocket-sized zines, the first of which is themed, “Genderly Phrased” and is meant to explore the vast world of gender definitions beyond the all-too standard masculine and feminine.



The freshly published [SSEX BBOX] magazine

“Maybe you exude androgyny, or pull from seahorse energy, or a series of colors,” says Bertucci, explaining that gender is meant to be subjective and personal.

It’s a steamy read (if you can tear yourself away from the stunning cover) with lots more bonus visuals and personal essays from people around the world confidently exploring outside the lines. Another issue is expected to print in October and it’s not too late to submit your own story, or your mother’s. 



Thurs/14, 8 p.m., $7

El Rio

3158 Mission, SF


OneTaste opens orgasm pop-up shop


Yes, you read that correctly. And no, they’re not providing customers with afternoon delights. OneTaste‘s “orgasm store” has academic goals: instructing the masses on how to please a woman based on Slow Sexa book by OneTaste’s founder Nicole Daedone. It’s kind of like that ancient proverb: Give a man (or woman) a fish and he eats for a day. Teach ’em to fish and she’ll cum again, and again, and again. 

The heart of Daedone’s goal is simple: spreading the should-be obvious notion that every woman deserves super-amazing orgasms. Unfortunately a lot of ladies and their partners don’t know how to make this happen. Daedone’s attentive approach is simple: combat ADD, settle the mind, and get all parties focused on the task at hand so the explosive ending happens organically. 

If you have yet to read Daedone’s book or if you’ve poured thousands into an orgasmic meditation retreat with her OneTaste empire, the pop-up shop is a great, free alternative. The former Loehmann’s on the corner of Sutter and Kearny will be home to the Orgasm shop for one month and besides glorifying the book, the space invites everyone inside for a daily to-do list of interactive options. 


From the “Orgasm Genius Bar” to the opportunity to record a 30 second confession about what your vagina wants in the “Desire Booth,” this shop insists you contemplate your sexual fulfillment and then chat about it. Even the walls beg for input. Covered in the scribble-in-the-blank statement “Orgasm Is …,” from ceiling to floor, guests can chalk-in their personalized definition.


The space also offers yoga classes, lunch hour discussions, happy hours and workshops like “Orgasm Is…Not Just for Younguns! Tips and Tools for Savvy Seniors” and “Behind the Scenes of the 15 minute Orgasm: A Meet Up for 4-Hour Body Fans.” Of course Daedone also pops into the store once a day for the promotional stuff, like readings and book signings, offering a motivational glimpse into her Turned-On Woman movement, probably similar to her TED talk.


Even if you have your “regular sex” climax on lock, walking into an orgasm pop-up on your lunch hour could be inspiration for some after-work activities and it makes for a great Four Square check-in. Plus, free TCHO chocolate.


Project “Orgasm Is…,” 

June 22- July 18

Open daily 11 a.m. to 7 p.m (until 9 p.m. on Wednesdays and Thursdays)

211 Sutter, SF

Feelmore510 is bringing sexy back to Oakland


The Bay’s east side can seem a little prudish, especially when compared to its slutty sister city. Until February, Oakland’s only retail resources for sex were a couple of trashy adult “superstores.” Those places can be fun and functional, but it’s safe to bet the cashier probably isn’t too concerned about answering a list of questions and making you feel comfortable with your purchase. Nenna Joiner, the owner of Oakland’s new sex-positive shop, Feelmore510, is quite the opposite and simply can’t wait to start friendly conversations about sex with everyone in her community.

Joiner, a sex educator and adult film director, has been dreaming about opening an Oakland shop for years, but her ideas go far beyond retail. From terminology to etiquette, Joiner says her community needs to start at the beginning, birds and bees style. “I love talking to people. People teach me new things everyday. I’m open and not judgmental. I’ll talk about anything,” she says after ushering a couple ladies out the door who had spent their lunch break browsing. 

From basic questions to the personal, Joiner is educating from the inside out. “A guy came by the other day asking if it was gay for him to want to play with his girlfriend’s butt,” she says. “San Francisco takes its sexual openness for granted — the community there is so exposed, probably overexposed,” she laughs, a playful swipe at the close-knit kink communities and accessible sex-positive resources she loves.

Joiner says Oakland residents may attend erotic events like Folsom or shop for dildos west of the bridge, but when they return home, the conversation goes flaccid. She puts partial blame on years of serious bedroom talk: preventative health and safe sex practices have been a priority due to the high number of HIV cases in the area. No one is contesting the importance of these topics, but in terms of fast, slutty fun they can be total Debbie Downers. Joiner wants to put the spunk back into conversations about sexuality. 

Before the shop opened, the surrounding neighborhood seemed nervous about the addition of a sex shop on the block, but Joiner has been extra careful to make sure people understand that her intentions are purely rooted in the revitalization of Oakland. She keeps up on local politics, attends city meetings, directs tourists to other neighborhood businesses, and even watches high school band concerts. She waves at people from across the street and welcomes anyone inside to chat and enjoy the space. Joiner feels supported by the city around her, which she thinks is happy to recognize her role as a successful business owner. She regularly gets friendly calls from the Alameda Small Business Association, casual check-ins to make sure she’s doing well.

“They know I’m a young woman of color, working my ass off. Maybe they don’t watch porn or have interest in the products I sell, but they support me because they know how hard I’m working.”

Nestled between downtown office buildings on Telegraph Avenue, Feelmore510 lures in its share of curious customers during the day with a modest store front that looks more art gallery than porn hub. Inside the store, Joiner loves to play her late grandmother’s vinyl collection, including Sinatra and Perry Como, which perfectly compliment the space’s glowing chandeliers and velvet curtains. The shop stays open until midnight, way past the bedtime of most of her neighbors’, but with the Fox Theater nearby and a collection of bars and clubs in walking distance, Joiner likes providing the night owls some after-party options.

“I stay open late because I want to help more people have great sex.” Getting people off the streets and under the sheets with body-safe, pleasurable accessories– now that’s community activism!



1703 Telegraph Avenue, Oakland

(510) 891-0199


Girls just want to have fun


SEX It was their first official slumber party and a late-night run to the grocery store for pink hair dye was in order. Decked out in a combination of pink, pajamas, and leather, the San Francisco girls of Leather shrieked and giggled as they wandered the aisles searching for anything rosy-colored. The girls could easily have been mistaken for a freshman herd of coeds soaked in Malibu and cheap vodka, but as the group’s president, Leland, remembers, they were “just high on girls.”

Until they discovered the store’s collection of pink and white unicorns — on sale.

“We all oohed and ahhed and ended up purchasing six of them, surprising the other girls by returning to the party with an entire unicorn herd,” Leland says. From sleeping bags and hair braiding to dirty storytelling and play piercing, the night teetered between innocent and naughty, sweet and sexy. “So many unicorns, so many needles, and so much blood!” she said.

The SF girls of Leather (the girls prefer a lowercase “g” and uppercase “L” out of respect for the traditions of the leather community) are giddy and flirty: the epitome of seventh-grade girliness, complete with kinky sleepovers, hearts, and cuteness. As this year-old group sees it, maturity is overrated when it comes to BDSM — and a hint of silliness in a dark dungeon can only heighten the sex appeal. Who else is going to giggle or blush after a spank?

The group’s approach to leather is hardly in line with the masculine traditions that have come to be associated with the history of the kink community. But in the year since the girls formed their group, they’ve been working to secure their place in the continuum of leather lovers. And judging from the group’s growing membership — and accolades from the leather community at large — SFgoL is providing a much-needed refuge for marginalized fans of lighthearted play, splashing accents of pink across the traditional wash of black.



Historically, a girl in the leather community has been defined as the female-identified version of a boy — a submissive expected to service a dominant individual in various kinds of BDSM play. But in SFgoL parlance, girl means something way more fun. Top, bottom, submissive, dominant, giver, receiver, experienced, or curious: all roles are welcome in the group, as long as you “girl” identify.

Which means what, exactly?

“Leather doesn’t have to be serious,” says Leland, who is of the mind that people of all ages, bodies, and sexual preferences can find bliss by tapping into their own personalized “girl-space.”

“You’re a leathergirl if you feel like it,” says SFgoL Vice President Kate McKinley. Even boys and bois are allowed in the group — as long as they have a “girl heart.” Coincidentally, McKinley wears one of these around her neck — a silver heart necklace.

“I play girly and therefore this group is where I belong,” she says.

An important tenet of the leather life, service (traditionally, the practice of obediently pleasing a dominant character) is still an integral part of the girl group’s goals — but its definition of the term goes beyond tending to masters and daddies.

In the year since the group’s inception, SFgoL has volunteered at multiple fundraisers and organized charity drives for nonprofits benefiting women in the leather community and beyond. Members are free to service individuals but are required to serve the community by means of philanthropy: grown-up Girl Scouts earning merit badges for kink.

Their efforts haven’t gone unnoticed — the San Francisco Bay Area Leather Alliance recognized SFgoL as its best new organization of 2010. “Contributing to the community makes it easier for us to enjoy what we’re doing,” says SFgoL member Anita, who asked that we not use her last name for professional reasons.

Anita moved to San Francisco from Norway on a work visa, but soon found herself lusting for a close encounter with leather. She discovered some BDSM groups for women interested in playing with women, but because she identified as straight when she arrived in the city, the SFgoL’s more inclusive membership requirements felt like a better fit.

She was also attracted to the group because it didn’t require members be in a dominant-submissive relationship. She was free to play with whomever, whenever, and however she pleased. “I’m a girl and I was interested in exploring the leather community in a group where I could just be myself and share my feelings,” she says.

Last month the SFgoL celebrated its one-year anniversary with 18 full members and more than 100 girls on its Listserv. The numbers are a strong indicator of its success, especially since the current version of the SFgoL isn’t the city’s first attempt at a girly collective. In 2004, a leathergirl group was formed, but failed to secure footing in the established leather community. The second time around seems to be the shiny charm — or maybe these girls are just extra-charming?

“We do have a smokin’ hot group of girls,” giggles Leland, looking around the table and raising her eyebrows at Anita and McKinley.

It’s lunch hour on a Tuesday and the three girls flirt like crazy, constantly laughing and finishing each other’s sentences between small bites of spicy Thai food. The three are a prime example of the group’s demeanor and exactly why Leland has enforced a “no cruising” rule during official meetings.

“The meetings are meant to be safe space and for taking care of business. But yes, we can play outside the meetings,” she says, batting her lashes as the other girls smirk, hiding a thousand secrets anyone with a pulse would die to hear.



Since its inception, the leather community has been predominately male. Icons like Marlon Brando, and the work of Tom of Finland and the Satyrs Motorcycle Club, defined modern masculinity in the 1950s, igniting a kinky obsession in the gay community. A badass jacket, muir cap, and related wardrobe of black hide became a symbol of sexual power and masculine independence, eradicating the stereotype that all gay men were effeminate.

Leather rules and traditions grew from military protocol and were diligently enforced by masters and their slaves, daddies and their boys. Women were intrigued, but struggled to find a place among the men; many leather bars turned away women at the door.

Over time, elements of BDSM became associated with leather and the community began to flex. During the ’80s, leatherwomen competitions popped up, and in the ’90s, groups like San Francisco’s Outcasts — now the Exiles —provided the community with strong female-identified role models. In 2006, the Exiles helped open Betty Paige’s Secret, which in subsquent years of the festival became Venus’ Playground. It was the first leatherwomen play space at the Folsom Street Fair.

It’s been six years since the Venus milestone, yet during this April’s International Ms. Leather competition in San Francisco, it was apparent that questions about the role of women in the leather community remain.

In a moment of call and response, “Where are the leatherwomen?” was shouted into the microphone. The answer was loud and proud: “Here we are! We’re here!” followed by a rumble of audience applause. Women may be standing their ground with paddles in hand, but the exchange was telling of their struggle for continued acknowledgment.

Deborah Isadorah, a veteran of kink and current leather momma, has been entranced by the leather community for more than 40 years, and is proud to have watched the roles of women expand. But in Isadorah’s eyes, the progression has been slow going.

“We live in a patriarchal society and that reflects on every part of our society, including leather,” she says, sipping a latte in Oakland and soaking in the spring sun.

“The men outnumber us physically in this community, [but that] doesn’t mean women’s voices are missing,” she continues. Isadorah is pleased with the progress of her generation of leatherwomen and is happy to sit back and nurture the younger crop. “I think we’ve done our job: to educate women about their bodies and the opportunities they have to explore sexuality beyond what society thinks is appropriate.”

Today, nearly half the current directors of the Leather Alliance, the community’s well-respected governing board, are female.

“We’re sitting at the table now,” says Daddy Vick Germany, a female-bodied leather daddy who has been a part of the Bay Area’s leather community for more than 15 years and serves as a director for the Alliance. Overall, Daddy Vick is content with the community’s moves toward inclusivity. “The men are leaving more space for us,” she says.

But traces of segregation can still be found. “Sometimes men just don’t see you — you’re not even in their line of vision,” she says, referring to a recent experience at the Up Your Alley street fair where a man blindly butted in front of her while she stood in a concession line. She recognizes that these incidents can be subconscious, but any female who roams the SoMa leather fairs is bound to encounter this feeling of invisibility. It makes her “mad as hell.”

Elected SF Dyke Daddy in 2002, Vick made substantial efforts to bridge gaps between the sexes. She’s currently running for SF Leather Daddy, a traditional competition built on fundraising for the AIDS crisis. In 2009 a transman won the competition, but if she wins, Daddy Vick would be the first female-bodied daddy to hold the title. Her candidacy alone is sure to shake things up with leathermen who believe in upholding traditional roles — but her motives are pure.

“I’m not doing this to make a statement as a female daddy. I’m running because I think I’m a good daddy for the community,” she says, meaning she cares about being a supportive, reliable father figure for those around her. The “working title” would help her foster change more effectively than her individual efforts.

Besides Folsom’s Venus’ Playground, there are no official social spaces intended for leatherwomen. This makes sharing communal bars and events incredibly important. Change is a slow process, but Daddy Vick says ample motivation is brewing in all corners, and — paired with the diffusion of kink — the space for growth can only flourish. Leather is opening into an umbrella term with the capacity to encompass multiple elements of fetish, and to further accept people of all genders, bodies, and preferences in any role.

In this respect, Daddy Vick thinks the SFgoL could play an important role. “It just takes people like Leland, coming in with a different energy. People who stand up in the crowd, see a need, and start organizing.”



While leatherwomen made slow but steady strides in the past decade, those straddling the space between butch and femme — the girl space — began breaking ground for themselves, too. In 2003 an international Leather Girl Network was born, led by the Bay Area’s Cheryl D. The group intended to mirror the already well-established leather boy community. Girls everywhere were giddy with possibilities.

“I had always identified with the title of ‘girl.’ I was a girl who liked to serve the community, but I was also a switch,” says Mistress Pilar, a longtime leather veteran and member of the original, and now revived, SF girls of Leather. Being a switch — someone who doesn’t commit to top or bottom exclusively — meant her definition of girl didn’t fit with that of the Leather Girl Network, which stated: girl equals submission. She wasn’t alone in her dilemma.

In 2004, San Francisco girls decided to put together their own troop, headed by girl Lori, the 2003 San Francisco Leather Dyke girl (a contest that no longer exists), and girl Hayden, the 2004 title-holder. They intentionally left the definition of girl open to allow for individual interpretation. The leather community shuddered at the loose restraints, confused by the men, boys, and transpeople that joined the girl ranks.

“People in the leather community were not comfortable with this idea at the time. No one even liked talking about it,” says Pilar, referring to the notion that a girl didn’t need to be a biological woman to be in their group. “The attitude that people should ‘get off the fence’ really hurt.”

The initial group grew to about 30 members and its short three years as a successful alliance was packed with fundraising, volunteer work, and super-girly fun. But eventually the negative attitudes, biased expectations, and confusion over the definition of “girls” wore down on moral.

“People would walk up to me and demand, ‘girl, clean my boots’ and I would say, ‘I don’t serve you, I serve the community,'” Pilar says shaking her head.

Even Daddy Vick remembers how the group of strong, independent individuals struggled to prove themselves to the wider leather community. The girls, she says, “took a lot of flak” for contesting tradition. “There was still a belief in place that girls and boys couldn’t be leaders. Some thought girls and boys should be seen and not heard.”

The girls managed to have good times regardless, but Pilar says by early 2007 the group was down to five members who reluctantly agreed the end had come. It wasn’t until the 2010 International Ms. Leather competition — when Pilar decided to donate the leftover SF girls memorabilia and a curious Leland started asking questions — that SFgoL sparked back into life, with a little PR and a lot of ambition.

“Leland is a wonderful leader. She creates a really positive image of a girl,” says Pilar, nostalgically looking over an old stack of meeting notes, scribbled calendars, and photos from the original group. The dissolution of her crew hit hard, and it’s bittersweet for Pilar to hear about the new group’s instant success. But more than anything, she’s proud. “I feel like a proud mom. Those are my girls.”

Coincidentally, just as the girls sprung out of the woodwork and formed an official group, the San Francisco boys of Leather, a longstanding and once very active organization, hung up their chaps and caps due to a decline in membership. The boys generously donated all their remaining funds to the girls.

Steve Gaynes, the 1994 SF Leather Daddy and Alliance director representing the 15 Association, a longstanding sexual fraternity for men interested in BDSM, has been a leatherman since 1978 and has watched all kinds of groups come and go. He says the ebb and flow is just a reflection of the community’s current needs.

“The energy ran of out the boys and ran into the girls. If there’s no driving force behind a group, it will die,” he says, noting the community’s excitement for the new girl group. “They’re enthusiastic, inclusive, and have clear ideas for their future. And they’re doing [it all] with a lot of respect for tradition.”

And the SFgoL’s continued dedication to volunteer work and partnerships with other groups have shown the community at large that it values the path paved by the forefathers — and foremothers — of leather.

Paying tribute to old protocol is simple. Isadorah boils it down to three simple rules: integrity, honesty, and service to the community. Judged by this metric, she says, anyone who thinks the SFgoL is out of line is just being stubborn. “Whenever something happens in the community that brings change, there will always be someone who is offended,” Gaynes says. “You won’t know you’ve created change until you’ve offended those people. Change is good and should be embraced.”



Leland and McKinley agree that there seems to be a buzz of excitement surrounding the SfgoL lately. The group’s logo is everywhere, and partnerships are being fostered across the community. Leland has even been asked to serve as a director for the SF Leather Alliance.

But her primary concern is making sure the SFgoL remains a safe, welcoming landing pad for girls who are new to the leather community. And these days, the media is providing all sorts of inspiration for curiosity. Rihanna’s song “S&M” speaks directly to sexual play, but even a quick Google search for “girls in leather” retrieves images of celebrities in fetish gear, from Lindsay Lohan and Miley Cyrus in leather leggings to Emma Watson in a full latex suit with collar. In general, our society is opening up to alternative sex and women want in on the action.

But girls who jump in with little research and few friends may not leave with the most positive experiences. The inherent power dynamic associated with BDSM relationships and play can blur the lines between consent and abuse, and Leland says it’s important for newbies to have mentors within reach. “Sometimes the person you’re playing with may not have your best intentions at heart,” she says. “But as an alliance of girls, we can look out for each other.”

Romancing queer celebrity JD Samson during Pride


How adorable is JD Samson? As a member of the legendary electro-feminist band Le Tigre and currently the force behind MEN, her music skills alone bank winning points. When you add in that little mustache, messy hair, and big dorky glasses, Samson becomes a full-on queer sex symbol. And guess what ladies? She’s here and DJing SOM Bar‘s Saturday night Pride party. 

The dancefloor is bound to be packed with gay-weekend celebrating hotties but if Samson is truly the apple of your eye, you might have to step up your game. Her last gf was Sia, the ridiculously cool Austrailian pop-singer who never fails to spew awkwardly entertaining stories, as seen by her interview with the Bay Guardian last year. The musical couple broke up this Spring and while it’s not confirmed that Samson is/is not carting a new beau, this party could very well be your chance to romance a queer celebrity with a ridiculous cool-factor. 


Samson’s musical stylings are known to be eclectic but there’s no doubt her DJ choices for SOM’s “Lights Down Low” event will be electronic, hard, and very grind-able. Blur’s “Girls & Boys” will probably make a justified appearance on the playlist. Her cohorts for the evening will include Nomi Ruiz, a member of Hercules and Love Affair and Jessica 6, which plays the Pride Main Stage on Sunday.

If you’re somehow unfamiliar with Samson’s previous work or just haven’t completely been convinced of her charm, check out her It Gets Better video. Awwwww, JD!


Sat/25, 8 p.m., $15


2925 16th Street, SF




Roll in the punky grime of Wax Idols


It’s purple and bloodied, scuffed and raw from a blind leap and yet if you dig your finger in deep enough, there’s a soft spot back and to the left. The Oakland-based quartet Wax Idols— playing Sun/26 at Thee Parkside — puts on a badass punk front, but those shiny hooks expose just enough emotion to keep things from scabbing. Wax Idols are super-gritty and always promise to play their noisy garage punk loud and hard. The band is fronted by Hether Fortune who’s got a firecracker reputation and a long list of local music projects, including Blasted Canyons and previously, Hunx and his Punx. She’s joined by Keven Tecon on the drums, Jennifer Mundy on the guitar and vox, and Amy Rosenoff on bass, and although the band is dominated by ladies, it keeps an angsty, andro-sound. 

Fortune told 7×7 that the band’s name was inspired by the lyrics “flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark” from Bob Dylan’s “It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)”, which isn’t creepy at all, right? A quick scroll through the band’s blog and it’s obvious this stellar mix of freak-show inspiration is constantly being collected, analyzed, and hopefully churned into some new music. Think bones, lots of nude ladies in strange public arrangements, bizarre music icons, and all kinds of other awesome dream material; puts some physical creep into the layered emotions. More please!

Wax Idols will be joined by the grungy, ’90s-rock of San Francisoc’s Lilac, the surfy sounds of The Wrong Words, and Paperhead, a psych-pop trio from Nashville. 


WAX IDOLS w/Lilac, The Paperhead and The Wrong Words

Sun/26, 8 p.m., $6

Thee Parkside

1600 17th Street, SF