Marke B. Archives — Page 30 of 55 — San Francisco Bay Guardian Archive 1966

Super Ego: Nonprofit drag queens on fire

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January 15, 2009

Wow, oh wow — not only is San Francisco’s premiere punk-mess drag queen Anna Conda hosting a very-special-guest version of her weekly Charlie Horse party this Friday, BUT she’ll then be retracting her greedy, greedy claws for a really good cause on Saturday afternoon at The Mix bar in the Castro. Sleeplessness!

Anna Conda: doin’ good, whatever it takes

She’ll be hosting a beer bust — featuring a gaggle of too-wild and possibly just-assembled drag performances — to help out Community Housing Partnership, a lovely local nonprofit which houses formerly-homeless people. For ONLY $10, you can mingle with the rock stars of indie drag and refill your little plastic beer cup as much as you like. For a good cause! Plus, a raffle.

Anna Conda’s Sublebrity Beer Bust for CHP
Sat/17, 3-7pm, $10
The Mix
4086 18th St., SF
www.sfmixbar.com

Obama’s hat trick — The Bad Boy? The Shark Life?

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January 15, 2009

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Well, yeah, it’s that inauguration thingy coming up, and the world is awash in the fabulous commercialization of it. Obama’s lavish coronation has already saved the print industry, caused quite a t-shirt kerfuffle with MLK’s kids, and inspired a host of commemorative coins — just don’t ask where the precious metal’s coming from.

Really, lady?

Hell, you can even send someone an “inaugural toast.” No, not an actual piece of toast, but an real drink from a local bar. (OK, that one’s kind of cool.)

But we’ll happily buy into any inaugural gimmick that’s sharp — and also comes from our favorite SF millinery institution, Goorin Bros in North Beach, which has been around for, like, 300 years or something. The spin? Vote for the snazzy hat that Obama should wear!

Plus, you can get a 10% discount on Goorin mop-toppers if you enter promo code: Inauguration 2009 on the Goorin Bros. Web site. Truly, the audacity of hat.

(We’re not sure what will happen once the winning cap is chosen, but something awesome, we’re sure.)

Frantic fish on a stick: Bangkok pics

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January 15, 2009

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Bay Guardian photog Ariel Soto just got back from Asia — with some fab snaps, of course. We’re presenting her travel essay in three parts throughout the next week. First up: touching down in Bangkok.

Golden Buddhas

Lobster claws at a restaurant

I have major wanderlust. Take-off on an airplane gives me a high. I know I’m going to see new things, taste exotic flavors and smell unfamiliar perfumes or fumes. I never sleep on flights, even if the trip is over fifteen hours. I’m just too excited.

One of many wats

A mangled monk statue

Don’t let the screen door hit ya …

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January 15, 2009

1

… where the good lord split ya, as my ma used to say back in Detroit. So I pass on this motherly advice to G.W. on the eve of his “farewell address” (as if we could fare any other way once he’s gone).

Someday, some lucky historian will win the Nobel with her theory of what the hell just happened, and how our society went apeshit — just as we were gaining the scientific knowledge and technological connections to come together and actually fix the world. I’m really hoping this decade saw the last spasm of religious cynicism and entitled hubris, but I think we may have just dodged a Millennial bullet — with, unfortunately, more to come?

In any case, Bush is so radioactively tacky that even typing his name has made half of you roll your eyes and stop reading this. So instead of continuing into tired diatribe — and hey let’s remind ourselves that pretty much the rest of the world went nutso for the past eight years as well — here’s a nice reader-generated vid that may be a bit over the top and overly familiar, but with Willie Nelson on the soundtrack how can you go wrong?

Let’s all “peace out.”

Super Ego: Holy Bass Camp, lazer lady!

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January 14, 2009

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I knew it. I knew it! This weekend is the first holiday weekend I’m gonna be in town for the past year — and I’m totally gonna blow my wad early and end up watching old episodes of Mad Men in bed, dutifully stoned. Why? Because Thursday night sees the launch of Daly City Records and ArtNowSF‘s ‘ new monthly Bass Camp at 111 Minna. And their bringing in all the big Montreal names in lazer bass, damn. I’m so lazer there.

Freakin’ Megasoid, freakin’ Lunice, freakin’ Hovatron — and a little somethin’ I like to call Lazer Sword.

All that, PLUS Robot Koch and Bass Science — with way-too-cute residents Mochipet, Epcot, Quitter, Salva, and MC Buddy LeRoy. It’ll be the blaps, y’all …

I LOVE LAZER BASS

Bass Camp
Third Thursdays, 9pm, $10 advance
111 Minna, SF.
www.111minnagallery.com

Who’s ready to get fork-fancy?

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January 14, 2009

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Absinthe’s green stuff

Oh, hey — if you’re not quite at the point where you need our priceless Hard Times Handbook — or if you’ve been hungrily saving up your scratch, just itching to try out some high-endish dining joints like Absinthe, LuLu, or Pres a Vi — here’s a chance to pick up your fancy fork for less and see things from the richer side.

Yep, that summit of budget culinary yum, Dine About Town, is upon us once again (the eighth year!), brought by the good folks of Taste SF.

Here’s the deal: Intriguing restaurants around the town are hoping to tempt you to their tables (and come back for more?). From Thurs/15 – Sat/31 you can dive into a three-course prix fixe lunch or dinner at more than 100 Bay Area restaurants. Lunch: $21.95. Dinner: 34.95. That sounds like a helluva lot — but for what you get in most cases, it’s totally worth it. Splurge on a fancy dinner or huge lunch on the cheap? Win.

Click here to see participating restos and for more info.

Local Artist of the Week

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January 14, 2009

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LOCAL ARTIST David Young

TITLE Untitled

BIO A San Francisco resident for just over five years, David Young draws inspiration from postapocalyptic films, punk music, street art, graphic novels, and war photography to present a damaged and hostile vision of SF and its place in America. All of the work in his "Live Forever" series is executed with Micron8 pens on Strathmore Bristol and American Masters paper.

SHOW "David Young: Live Forever," Thurs/15 through Feb. 14 (reception Thurs/15, 6–9 p.m.). Babylon Falling, 1017 Bush, SF. (415) 345-1017, www.babylonfalling.com

WEB www.myspace.com/dyoungv

The Blender: What we’ve been eating

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January 14, 2009

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The Guardian staff got a little fancy with their vittles ….

(1) Lobster mac ‘n’ cheese, First Crush, SF

(2) Giant 47 Pound Rooster Pinot Noir

(3) Home fries with white truffle oil

(4) Mashed cauliflower "potatoes"

(5) The Gypsy cocktail, Gitane, SF

The Mix: What we’ve been up to

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January 14, 2009

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The Guardian staff got rangy this week:

(1) Watching Notorious, then having a Notorious B.I.G. YouTube party

(2) Fantasy house-hunting, Pacific Heights

(3) Hiking through Muir Woods

(4) Matt and Kim, Grand (Fader)

(5) Brass Tax renegade at Pier 30

Fair game

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January 14, 2009

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› superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO Oodles of great blasts polished off 2008 — surely more heavenly reassurance that getting fucked up and fabulous is recession-proof, even if your outfit’s from Discount Fabrics and your liquor is too. But my favorite New Year’s Eve party wasn’t one that "everybody went to," or even one I went to all at once.

Hunky Beau and I had just scrammed from our midnight toasts at an as-yet-unnamed new bar on Market Street when the jagged chimes of an amped-up Guitar Hero rang out in the busy darkness. The Zep-like noodling tugged at our ears until we reached Church Street and joined two or three others gawking at the source, as fog-shrouded fireworks boomed in the distance. "This is what 2k9 nightlife is gonna be all about," I slurred in my own mind, because I was shit-faced. "Happy accidents." No strobe lights or Flash site, no four-color flyers or flown-in high-fivers, no electro-this and micro-that and all those totally denied friend requests. Just some cute dude in a light-gray hoodie who plugs his ax into the shut-down Safeway and makes a little dance floor in the parking lot.

It was a New Year’s miracle.

After that peak, I surfed a bipolar adrenaline rush and spent the whole night discoing out of control. At least I could still spend something, right? The After School Special point here is that nightlife is exactly what you make it. Never say a party was boring because that means you were at it. Don’t buy into trends: people who buy too much into trends are like walking planned obsolescences, dissolving in the storm of next new things. And if no one else is dancing, fuck ’em. Do the mashed potato, and get skronked. Everything is on the table.

PARTY MONSTERS So what the hell did happen in Clubland last year? A heckuva lot, Brownie, but damn if I can remember it all. Here are a few things that stood out.

Losses: the great Steve Lady passed away, an incredibly sad asterisk at the end of the Trannyshack, which shut its bloodied wings as hostess Heklina crawled forth to discover herself. Beloved anarcho-hipster hangout the Transfer got gutted so that the kind of OK gay Bar on Castro could move in — opening date: Jan. 20 — and become the, er, Bar on Church. And Pink, one of the few clubs left in the city devoted to house music — remember that? — closed Jan. 4. I disagreed with some of the fancy-schmancier aspects of Pink’s approach, but I still loved it in occasional doses. And I’m hearing rumors about the Stud, right when it’s riding a Milk-mention wave of fame, so please go there and buy cocktails.

Wins: New regular rip-roarers that freaked me included the cumbia-rific Tormenta Tropical, outrageously draggy Tiara Sensation, free-for-alls Honey Sundays (gayish, discoish), and Infatuation (straightish, electroish), roving furry dress-up party Beast, the Hole-y ’90s-worshipping Debaser, slinky Gemini Disco, crazy Look Out Weekend, and the hyperenergetic Work. Gone but not forgotten: Trans Am, Fag Fridays, Tits, Sucker Punch, Stiletto, Monster Show, Drift, and, finally, Finally. Another win: with the opening of Chaps II and the relocation of Hole in the Wall, there’s now a big gay leather SoMa "Miracle Mile" bar crawl again! Overall it was an awesome year, one in which a new generation rushed the club doors, so a big bold heart-heart to all the level-headed bar staff who scraped us off the sidewalk and helped find our flippin’ iPhones. Rawk.

Best: You really need to take the N-Judah night owl bus at 2:30 a.m. Way too cute …

Super Ego: Tossed Horse

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January 13, 2009

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By Marke B.

Is there such a thing as talent? REALLY? Every philosophical question you have about drag gets tossed up and around when the famously scattered yet oddly hypnotic and definitely entertaining House of Salad takes over, as it will this Friday at Charlie Horse, the infamously packed and outlandish punk/rock/grunge/country/??? party hosted by Anna Conda at the Cinch on Polk Street.

I haven’t ever been able to assign an aesthetic to the Saladeers — mostly because there’s so many of them, and mostly because no matter what’s been planned going in, it all usually ends up pretty fucked up. But this newest House does give off a few pungent qualities: they always defy definition, from queen bee Ambrosia’s post-melodramatic take on contemporary dance anthems to Kadija’s super-techno and dubstep shakedowns, to Stanley and friends’ old-school vaudeville. And they always put on a good show — even if it’s hilariously undercut by a fierce lack of studious stage effects. The girls need to find the spotlight sometime.

Yet of course I adore them, and you never know WHO is gonna pop up in the Salad spinner. Or what “giveaways” they’ll be packing. (Hint: little, brown.) Basically it’s all about thrown-together deliciousness, so just hold out your bowl and dive in.

Ambrosia Salad et al at L.A.’s Shits & Giggles party

House of Salad at Charlie Horse
Fri/16, 10pm (show at midnight), free
The Cinch
1723 Polk, SF.
www.thecinch.com

The 2008 Lamebow Awards

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January 7, 2009

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Wow, oh wow — 2k8 was such an incredible trainwreck "LGBT: WTF?" year that we’ve resurrected our Lamebow Awards, a tarnished-star-studded list of some of the biggest gay boners of the past queer year. And, hey, 2009 already looks like a winner, with Barack Obama inviting extra-special homophobic walrus Rick Warren to give his inaugural invocation in Washington, DC — on the very same weekend as the capital’s biggest queer S-M event, the Mid-Atlantic Leather Weekend. So far Obama says he "probably" won’t attend the MAL haps. Up from bondage, Barack! Give us chains we can believe in.

Best MySpace Bisexual: It’s a tie! The original MySpace Bi, Tila Tequila of MTV’s desperate cross-gender dating show Shot of Love, wins again for her assertion to Us Weekly that legalized same-sex marriage is "because of me." Before her show came out, "everyone was still a little apprehensive about same sex relationships," she said. "Then they realized, ‘Wow, everyone is really into this stuff, and it is fine." Really. Sharing the award this year is, of course, Lindsay Lohan — because rehab makes you gay and want to blog about it.

Best Idol Anticlimax: This one goes to Clay Aiken — not because he finally came out on the cover of People — shocker! Sing it, sister — but because he didn’t even have to try to clinch the top spot on that "Men Who Look Like Old Lesbians" blog.

Best What Did You Expect, Buddy: "Manhunt.net Founder Jonathan Crutchley Donates $2,300 to McCain Campaign!" Please. It’s Manhunt, people — the only surprise here was that he didn’t round up to $3,000 and end up only giving $50.

Best Killer Irony: When Austrian fascist and anti-gay leader Jörg Haider died in a head-on auto collision with a tree this fall, it was revealed that he was sleeping with his uber-twink communications director — and that he crashed after pounding drinks in a gay bar. Just research, we’re sure.

Best Hairplugged Pander: Nothing warmed our heart cockles more than Joe Biden shouting, "No! Neither Barack Obama nor I support redefining, from a civil side, what constitutes marriage. We do not support that!" when asked "Do you support gay marriage?" during the vice presidential debates. Thanks, Joe. Of course, Sarah Palin saying she knew a gay person once in Alaska when asked the same question was just as ridiculous. But Palin is disqualified from the Lamebows, because even after spending $23,000 on a makeup artist, she still did that whole horrifying "smear dusty rose rouge up your cheekbones" thing.

Best Done Just Dug a Deeper Hole: Emerging from a swamp more horrifyingly rancid than Kathy Griffin’s fan base, former congress member and heinous pedophile Mark Foley granted a crocodile-tear-filled interview to Florida’s WPTV in which he insisted that he’d done nothing "really" wrong and blamed his behavior on alcohol and childhood abuse by a priest (who, sadly, confirmed the charge). Stay in the grave, already! Even scarier: Foley’s interior-designer boyfriend is still with him. Break the cycle, dude.

Best double STFU: "Ur So Gay" but "I Kissed a Girl"? Yawn, yawn, and wrong, Katy Perry. U suck.

Best Maybe Meth-Driven Midlife Meltdown: It’s fast becoming a far-too-public trend — the gay version of Viagra-crazed gray beards: reach 45, drop 50 pounds, get a bunch of lame tattoos, and hit the circuit 10 years too late. Then, if you’re famous, pose naked in a 1,000 boring rags and ad campaigns while still keeping your 20-year-old porn star wannabe hustler boy-toy on the speed dial. Kudos, then, to Marc Jacobs, who did all this and Facebooked it in real time, too.

Best Scapegoat: We wanted to give this one to black people, because of that whole hothead blame game us gays had so much fun playing after Proposition 8 passed. Classy. But that all happened, like, 500 blog centuries ago, so we’re gonna go with global-warming queers. Yep, according to a pre-Christmas speech by Pope Eggs Benedict XVI, "saving humanity from homosexual or transsexual behavior [is] just as important as saving the rainforest from destruction." Is that man in a dress aware of just how many trannies come from the Amazon?

Best Ginormous Oops: Wait a minute. Prop. 8 passed?

Street Threads by night: What are you wearing?

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January 5, 2009

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Limor, 24th Street and Castro

Guardian photog Ariel Soto continues her quest for San Francisco’s best street togs — this time with an spotlit eye on eveningwear

Kate, 24th Street and Vicksburg

Keesa, 22nd Street and Valencia

A gay porn manual — live

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January 4, 2009

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By Marke B.

“Multi-award winning adult video director” is a phrase that cracks me up — I swear guys have used that line on me a hundred times. Unfortunately or fortunately, it’s usually worked.

But there are a few people to whom the descriptor actually applies. Author Mike Donner is one of them — I think. In any case, that’s his claim, and he’s backing his baccalaureates up with his new book, “How to be a Porn Star,” which features one of my favorite blurbs of this or any other year, by one of my favorite porn stars, Rod Barry: “Don’t start unless you have a regular job. It’s not a career!” Word up, sister girlfriend.

The book’s pretty (intentionally) hilarious as well as playful and insightful — there’s much “backroom info” divulged for those who want to know the gritty details. But, you know, it’s still a book. Wouldn’t it be better live? Of course! See Donner and a cast of well-known porn names

Super Ego: New Years blasts — pop, pop!

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December 31, 2008

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Here’s a very select blast of bubbly, DJ-driven New Years Eve parties. All events take place Wednesday, Dec. 31 — and those marked "late" go afterhours for your party-hopping pleasure.

Afrolicious

Feel a warm, wet vibe of the new with DJ Sabo of Sol Selectas, residents Pleasuremaker and Señor Oz, live percussionists, and hundreds of gyrating lovelies.

10 p.m., $20. Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. www.elbo.com

Bootie Pirate Party

Arrrr — it’s 2k9! Swing from the mashup club’s mizzenmast with Smash-Up Derby live and DJs Adrian and Mysterious D, Party Ben, Dada, and Earworm.

9 p.m.–late, $25 advance. DNA Lounge, 375 11th St., SF. www.bootiesf.com

Booty Call NYE

Drag mother Juanita More, playboy Joshua J., DJ Initials P.B., performer Hoku Mama Swamp, and star photographer Brandon — look smart! — bring all the hot boys together to pop a few corks.

8:30 p.m., Check Web site for price. The Bar, 456 Castro, SF. www.juanitamore.com

Eclectic Fever Masquerade

Shake your feathers and bhangra in the new with the NonStop Bhangra dance troupe, and then get global with Sila and the Afrofunk Experience, Daronda, and DJ Felina.

9 p.m.–late, $55. Gift Center Pavilion, 888 Brannan, SF. www.eclecticfever.com

Imagine

Spundae and Mixed Elements explode with local house heroes Kaskade, Trevor Simpson, and baLi — plus, a jungle room and "shiny confetti rain."

8 p.m., $60 advance. Ruby Skye, 420 Mason, SF. www.rubyskye.com

Love Unlimited

Almost every fab disco crew — Gemini Disco, DJ Bus Station John, Honey Soundsystem, Ferrari, Beat Electric — comes together for this all-night beat blast with DJ Cosmo Vitelli.

9 p.m., $15 advance. Paradise Lounge, 308 11th St., SF. www.myspace.com/honeysoundsystem

The Mix: What we’ve been up to

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December 30, 2008

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The Guardian staff’s weekly list of recent raves:

(1) Ice skating at Justin Herman Plaza

(2) Live classical music, Revolution Cafe

(3) Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog — even better the second time!

(4) Midnight mass, Christmas Eve, Mission Dolores

(5) Braving the crowds for insane deals at Macy’s

The Blender: What we’ve been eating

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December 30, 2008

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The Guardian staff was fork-deep in comforting goodies this week:

(1) Wild grouper with mashed sweet potatoes and brussels sprouts, Derek’s, Pasadena

(2) Potato latkes with applesauce, cornbread fig and prosciutto stuffing muffins, and mushroom turnovers

(3) Red Breast 12-year-old Irish whiskey and Woodford Reserve bourbon

(4) New Hampshire rolls (bacon, bacon, bacon), Wasabi, Oakland

(5) Empanadas on the street in Chile

Nite Trax: The Jeff Mills mix that made me live in 2008

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December 21, 2008

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Nite Trax: The Jeff Mills mix that made me live in 2008

I’m a-freezing my hanukkah latkes off in Detroit right now (-10 wind chill), so maybe it’s appropriate, among the blizzard of end-of-year lists, that I pop in my hot mix of the year. All 45 Ghostworld conga-line minutes of Detroit wizard Jeff Mills’ triple-table symphonic techno tour de force, “The Exhibitionist.”

Before the techno purists claw my ears out, yes this mix came out in late 2k7 — but I’m on drag time. (I also grew up listening to Jeff as the Wizard, with the Memorexes to prove it, so I can name him king of any damn year I want.)

What really got me about this mind-blowing performance (the sleeve clean at 17:20 made me burst into tears) was how Mills tweaked the massive global rhythms that have always existed subconsciously below fine techno’s surface to come up with the kind of polyrhythmy that dubstep can only achieve at its best. Kinda space samba-y.

Not that it’s a competition — and I was addicted to more dubstep mixes this year than I can count — but I’m a technoist at heart, and this mix really said something I’ve been trying to say for years: that machine music possesses a global soul. I will eternally worship the person who transcribes this for the New York Philharmonic. Or whips out the entire set at Carnaval.

BONUS: Some SF-made mixes I loved this past year:

Lazer Sword: Future Blaps

Kontrol: XLR8R techno tear-up

Richie Panic: An Amazing Lifelike Companion

Public: all mixes (esp. Metallica)

A Tom and Jerry Christmas: It’s hard out there for a Grinch

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December 21, 2008

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By Justin Juul

Oh yes, it’s all real

Can we all just take a minute and stop pretending that the holidays are fun? I mean sure, there are more opportunities to drink before nightfall, and sure, we’ll probably all get new iPhones. But come on! Christmas is like the most annoying time of the year. Not only do we have to spend cash on other people, but we also have to donate an incalculable amount of our free time to activities we’d normally avoid. Forget about going to the gym or watching a movie; the next two weeks are gonna be nothing but awkward work parties, shopping, cooking, and listening to music that makes you remember your childhood. Not fun.

It’s easy to get depressed over the holidays for these reasons, but it’s always better to just bear through the ordeal with a smile. After all, there are millions of people with problems far worse than our own. Starving children, homeless people, and the housebound elderly come to mind, but that’s not who I’m talking about. I’m talking about the one group of people to whom the holidays are a true burden: obsessive decorators.

Think about it. The holidays may mean that you and I will have to throw some sparkly shit on a dead tree or light some candles, but that’s nothing compared to what folks like Tom Lawson and Jerry Goldstein (AKA the cutest couple in the world), have to deal with. These guys spend weeks preparing their holiday display and the cost is through the roof. I mean, dude, look at that tree! The lights alone must cost thousands of dollars to operate. And just imagine how much effort it takes to get all that stuff up there? It’s a wonder that Tom and Jerry even bother with the holidays, but they always have and they always will.

Why? Well, that’s a good question. The Guardian stopped by the Goldstein/Lawson residence (3650 21st ST) a few times this week to get the scoop.

Tom and Jerry, in the spirit

SFBG: That’s a helluva set up you got there. How long have you been doing this?
Tom Lawson: Oh, I guess it’s been almost 20 years now.

SFBG: Jesus, man. That’s a long time. Has it always been this big?
Lawson: Oh, it’s always been on the bigger side of things, but it’s definitely grown over the years. It’s gotten pretty out of hand, actually.

SFBG: How much does something like this cost?
Lawson: Well, we don’t discuss things like that, but I will say it’s not cheap. I mean look, that crane alone costs $3,000. And then I gotta hire a Santa Clause and everything. And then of course, there’s my crew. They’ve been with me forever.

SFBG: Are they like your personal elves or something?
Lawson: Ha! Don’t let them hear you say that. No, I’m a property manager and this is my work crew. When Christmas rolls around we stop working regular jobs and we put all of our energy into this.

SFBG: Why?

New Years Eve Parties 2008

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December 17, 2008

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Here’s some rockin’ bottle-pops for your 2k9 hello — followed by some all night dance affairs ….

BUTTHOLE SURFERS

One of the best parts of reading Michael Azerrad’s Our Band Could Be Your Life (Little, Brown, 2001) is learning how psychotic the Butthole Surfers actually were. Whether filling an upside-down cymbal with lighter fluid and igniting and playing it or projecting scary-ass surgery footage onto huge smoke machine-generated clouds to terrorize the audience, the Buttholes clearly intended to have everyone walk away from shows with physical or mental wounds congruent to their own self-inflicted ones. By the time Electric Larryland (Capitol, 1996) gave them access to post-Nevermind commercial radio, the Butthole Surfers had transformed into a run-of-the-mill heavy rock unit, saving their perverseness for their lyrics.

But all’s you need to do is backtrack to Locust Abortion Technician (Touch and Go, 1987) to find the group’s secret reverence for classic rock juxtaposed with a not-so-secret love of tripping balls on tracks like the genuinely disturbing "22 Going on 23" and imagine that there was a time when the Butthole Surfers toured with a naked dancer named Ta-Da the Shit Lady but managed to devote enough energy to the whole "music" side of being a band to write something as enduring as the proto-grunge of "Human Cannonball." The group’s more recent output isn’t good, and it goes without saying that the ‘Urfers will never be able to equal the antics of their past. This one is a mixed bag, but I’m guessing that, while Gibby Haynes won’t be regaling us with tales of Chinese men with worms in their urethras, he won’t pull any cutesy "you are loved" Flaming Lips bullshit, either. (Brandon Bussolini)

With Negativland. Dec. 31, 9 p.m., $55. (Also with Fuckemos, Tues/30, 8 p.m., $35). Fillmore, 1805 Geary, SF. (415) 346-6000, www.livenation.com

GEORGE CLINTON AND PARLIAMENT FUNKADELIC

"Bow-wow-wow-yippee-yo-yippee-yeh." That was the "Atomic Dog" mantra back in the day when I worked at a mega-music store for minimum wage: it kept us tame, it soothed our frayed nerves, and it never failed to remind all concerned that there was a little dog in me, you, and everybody. Hell, if "Atomic Dog" mastermind George Clinton stopped with just Funkadelic’s Free Your Mind … and Your Ass Will Follow and Maggot Brain (both Westbound, 1970, 1971) many a fan boy and babe would have been satisfied to sing his praises forever more, but nooo, the musical groundbreaker and funk-rock-R&B OG of a dogfather has had more creative lives than a nuclear feline — a good and bad thing, I suppose, in terms of quality control.

Later, I would come to associate Clinton with a tale divulged by a colleague who was once allowed into the icon’s smokin’ sanctum sanctorum — namely a venue bathroom — to, ah, do an interview. This time, however, when the man brings Parliament-Funkadelic to the Warfield for New Year’s Eve, I’ll expect candidate Clinton — settling into his golden years, it appears, with the recent release of his covers album, George Clinton and His Gangsters of Love (Shanachie) — to tear the roof off with a super-stupid rendition of his prescient par-tay anthem "Paint the White House Black." (Kimberly Chun)

With the Greyboy Allstars. Dec. 31, 9 p.m., $79–$89. Warfield, 982 Market, SF. (415) 421-TIXS, www.goldenvoice.com

FANTÔMAS

For all those who don’t want to spend their New Year’s Eves puttin’ the lime in the coconut and twistin’ it all up, General Patton has got you covered. Patton and the melodicidal miscreants of avant-garde metal quartet Fantômas invade the Great American Music Hall on a mission to decimate eardrums and bring aural beasts to life. The San Francisco supergroup — which includes Buzz Osborne of the Melvins, Trevor Dunn, formerly of Mr. Bungle, and Dave Lomabardo of Slayer — formed in 1988, and is Patton’s longest-running project. The resume of the king of musical ADHD reads like an major-indie label discography, but the workaholic always finds time to confound and bludgeon with Fantômas.

The group’s beauty lies in its ravenous experimentation and intensity — and in Osborne’s Don King hair. Over the course of their four LPs, they’ve mix electronic glitches; nonsensical and horrifying utterings; Lombardo’s mind-boggling drum dexterity, which roves from blastbeats to technical jazz; and King Buzzo’s gigantic sludge riffs to create controlled chaos in its most primitive, powerful form. They’ve covered The Godfather (1972), worked with free-jazz sicko John Zorn, and, most of all, done whatever they fucking wanted to. As long as they keep doing that, we’ll keep listening. (Daniel N. Alvarez)

Fantômas’ "The Director’s Cut" with Tipsy and Zach Hill. Dec. 31, 8 p.m., $45. Great American Music Hall, 859 O’Farrell, SF. (415) 885-0750, www.gamh.com

Here’s a very select blast of bubbly, DJ-driven New Years Eve parties. (Check the Guardian for more as the date approaches.) All events take place Wednesday, Dec. 31 — and those marked "late" go afterhours for your party-hopping pleasure.

Afrolicious

Feel a warm, wet vibe of the new with DJ Sabo of Sol Selectas, residents Pleasuremaker and Señor Oz, live percussionists, and hundreds of gyrating lovelies.

10 p.m., $20. Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. www.elbo.com

Bootie Pirate Party

Arrrr — it’s 2k9! Swing from the mashup club’s mizzenmast with Smash-Up Derby live and DJs Adrian and Mysterious D, Party Ben, Dada, and Earworm.

9 p.m.–late, $25 advance. DNA Lounge, 375 11th St., SF. www.bootiesf.com

Booty Call NYE

Drag mother Juanita More, playboy Joshua J., DJ Initials P.B., performer Hoku Mama Swamp, and star photographer Brandon — look smart! — bring all the hot boys together to pop a few corks.

8:30 p.m., Check Web site for price. The Bar, 456 Castro, SF. www.juanitamore.com

Eclectic Fever Masquerade

Shake your feathers and bhangra in the new with the NonStop Bhangra dance troupe, and then get global with Sila and the Afrofunk Experience, Daronda, and DJ Felina.

9 p.m.–late, $55. Gift Center Pavilion, 888 Brannan, SF. www.eclecticfever.com

Imagine

Spundae and Mixed Elements explode with local house heroes Kaskade, Trevor Simpson, and baLi — plus, a jungle room and "shiny confetti rain."

8 p.m., $60 advance. Ruby Skye, 420 Mason, SF. www.rubyskye.com

Love Unlimited

Almost every fab disco crew — Gemini Disco, DJ Bus Station John, Honey Soundsystem, Ferrari, Beat Electric — comes together for this all-night beat blast with DJ Cosmo Vitelli.

9 p.m., $15 advance. Paradise Lounge, 308 11th St., SF. www.myspace.com/honeysoundsystem

Midnight

Dancehall, reggae, and classic hip-hop go boom with Ali Shaheed Muhammad of A Tribe Called Quest, Amp Live of Zion I live band Native Elements, Trackademicks, and Jah Warrior Shelter.

9 p.m.–late, $25 advance. Club Six, 60 Sixth St., SF. www.clubsix1.com

New Years’ Revolution

Banger, turbocrunk, and electro freaks unite under the sheer speaker-blowing awesomeness of Diplo, Jesse Rose, Ghislain Poirier, Plastician, and hundreds more.

9 p.m.–late, $55 advance. 1015 Folsom, SF. www.1015.com

Opel: Fire and Light

Wacky, burner-flavored breaks and bass from special guest DJs Lee Coombs and Blende, plus Mephisto Odyssey, Syd Gris + Aaron Jae, Jive, and more from the Opel crew.

9 p.m.–late, $25–<\d>$55. Mighty, 119 Utah, SF. www.opelproductions.com

Reveal

"Reveal your inner light" is the dress code at this glamorous Supperclub affair, with DJ love from Ellen Ferato, Liam Shy, and Michael Anthony — and tons of performers.

8 p.m.–late, $120. Supperclub, 657 Harrison, SF. www.supperclub.com

Sea of Dreams

The immense extravaganza is back, with a full live show by Thievery Corporation, beats whiz Bassnectar, circus stars The Mutaytor, and Brazilian soulsters Boca Do Rio.

9 p.m.–late, $79 advance. Concourse, 635 Eighth St., SF. www.blasthaus.com

Second Sunday NYE

The summer favorite lights up in winter with this special blowout, featuring Chi-Town house god DJ Derrick Carter, local legend DJ Dan, Jay Tripwire, and Sen-Sei.

8 p.m., $40 advance. Mission Rock Cafe, 817 Terry Francois Blvd., SF. www.2ndsunday.com

Temple NYE

Cryogenic fog! Whirling lasers! Sonic Enlightenment! "Optix stimuli!" Oh, and a host of rockin’ techno DJs like Paul Hemming, IQ!, and Ben Tom bring the party knowledge to Temple.

9 p.m., $80. Temple, 540 Howard, SF. www.templesf.com

Storyville NYE

Poleng Lounge shoots back to its past incarnation with a jazzy house and hip-hop extravaganza. DJs Lady Alma, Mark De Clive Lowe, and Daz-I-Kue take you there.

9 p.m., $25 advance. Poleng Lounge, 1751 Fulton, SF. www.polenglounge.com

Scene: Bersa Discos hits the bueno

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December 17, 2008

3

Here’s an interview with new-cumbia whizzes Bersa Discos — on the eve of their party Tormenta Tropical’s first anniversary this Friday at the The Elbo Room — as published in this week’s Scene: The Guardian Guide to Nightlife and Glamour magazine, on stands inside the Guardian…

“The reception to our sound has been amazing here,” says new-style cumbia pioneer DJ Oro11 — who, along with partner DJ Disco Shawn, heads the Bersa Discos label (www.myspace.com/bersadiscos) and puts on the packed Tormenta Tropical monthlies at Elbo Room. “A place like the Bay Area is a perfect spot for new cumbia sounds to take hold. People here are always looking for new music, plus there’s obviously a huge Latino population. A lot of younger Latinos who grew up hearing cumbia also listened to hip-hop and electronic music. They’re really into what we’re doing.”

Cumbia, the irresistible traditional accordion-driven dance music of Latin America (originally from Colombia), has undergone a mutation of sorts, opening up to include electronic augmentation, hip-hop beats, and even punk styles. The new iteration has taken hold in clubs like the cutting-edge Zizek, in Buenos Aires, where Oro11 was living and performing when Disco Shawn sought him out in 2006 for a taste of the electro-cumbia sound. The two returned to San Francisco, their home base, to form the Bersa Discos label as a kind of sonic nexus. “DJs and producers were selling burned CDs and swapping MP3s, but nothing was very organized at the time,” says Disco Shawn. “We just wanted to get some of these amazing tracks pressed up on vinyl and circulated a little more officially.”

Bersa Discos is now on its fourth release, titled, appropriately, Bersa #4 and featuring Afro-Colombian-tinged tracks by Brooklyn’s Uproot Andy and deeper sounds from the Netherlands’ Sonido del Principe. And the Tormenta Tropical party has seen legends like DJ/Rupture, South Rakkas Crew, Buraka Som Sistema, Toy Selectah, and even the Zizek folks burn up the stage. Shawn says to keep a 2k9 ear out for DJ Panik’s Texan “crunk cumbia.” Meanwhile, UK “bashment” crew the Heatwave hop in Dec. 19 to enliven the party’s first anniversary.

SFBG What originally attracted you to the new cumbia style?

ORO11 I first got into cumbia in 2001 while I was in Buenos Aires — the same time that the Argentine economy was collapsing. Kids were still heading to the clubs all night, but as a whole the music was pretty unimpressive. Lots of ’80s, trance, Ramones, and Rolling Stones — seriously, whole subcultures based on those last two. But one day I caught a Sunday TV variety show called Pasion Tropical that had the group Pibes Chorros on. Those dudes were repping heavy keyboard-guitars, long hair, and skull tees. They had a different sound that grabbed me, meaner than most cumbia I had heard. So I started tracking down their mixes, chopping up their samples, and making cumbia remixes with dancehall and hip-hop thrown in. Guys like Marcelo Fabian, Villa Diamante, Sonido Martines, and Daleduro were messing with cumbia too. So we started linking up, throwing parties together. Shawn and I met not too long after and started throwing the idea of Bersa Discos around.

SFBG What are some of your most memorable Tormenta Tropical experiences?

DISCO SHAWN It’s all been amazing. But the best thing has been getting to play with artists whose music I was already a fan of. The crowd has also been great. It’s totally mixed — Latino cumbia diehards, hipsters, dancehall heads, etc. Even better, people are really into dancing. Most of the time we’re playing songs that people don’t know — most of the songs are in Spanish, so a good portion of the crowd may not even understand the language — yet everyone goes crazy on the dance floor. It’s really nice because we’re not slaves to playing any sort of “hits.”

SFBG Drop a new cumbia top five on us.

ORO11 How about these?

Petrona Martinez, “La Vida Vale la Pena (Uproot Andy Remix)”
Los Rakas, “Esa Mulata”
El Guincho, “Kalise (Frikstailers Remix)”
DJ Panik, “Gettin’ Some Head”
BananaClipz featuring MC TIDAL, “Bluetooth Riddim”

TORMENTA TROPICAL ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY PARTY
With the Heatwave and Paul Devro
Fri/19, 10 p.m., $10
Elbo Room
647 Valencia, SF
(415) 552-7788
www.elbo.com

Youthquake

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December 17, 2008

0

Wooo! Wooooo! No, I’m not a giant faggotty owl. I’m the ghost of recent San Francisco underground dance floors past — equally faggotty — and I controool you. Or at least I did, until that brazen neon bitch from American Apparel showed up on the 2k8 guest list, with his matte lamé leggings, Adderall diet, Marvel comics mask, baile funk BFF, and Ableton plug-ins.

Gurl, I got caught with my ZOMGs down, and it was total fap fap fap.

For more than a decade, I fierce ruled the insular world of club tunes, dividing them up into techno, house, and hip-hop, with some occasional ’80s nostalgia on the side. I froze all dance genres in the booty-phat ’90s with my snap-hand, casting off up-and-comers with a haughty high-hat spray of laughs. Breakbeats? Electroclash? IDM? Nu-rave? Trance? Specter, please. Passing fancies, they all got swallowed up with ghostly ease. Despite my aging denizens — no more backflips at the breakdowns, no more weekend trips to Body and Soul in NYC, a lazy wash of Rihanna remixes and Mary J. mash-ups — I held all the club cards, and it felt mighty real.

I just never thought the children would use my own tools to destroy me.

Sure, I peeped those Misshapen mid-aughts electro youngsters at the fringes, flashing their disabled glasses and pajama-like outerwear on Lastnightsparty, snapping up Justice remixes on BIGSTEREO, laughing along with Hipster Runoff. And, yeah, I knew that high-school crunkers fetishized "da club"; that feisty programmers refreshed techno; that global styles stewed together in dubstep; that iDJs resurrected ancient categories like grunge and hair metal, irony slowly melting into earnestness.

But all that was old news, relying on even older genres — I mean, electro’s like from what, 1972? — and most of those darned kids, I figured, would end up directly beamed into MySpace, never setting a single fluorescent Nike onto me. The few who found their way to the "real" underground — my underground, with my same five goddamned DJs — would still have to bow down before me.

Oh, how wrong I was. I never opened up to any of the newer energies — I was afraid, I got petrified — despite their thrilling old-school affinity, preferring to keep my exhausted thralls lockstep in an endless search for purity, the enslaving chimera of "authenticity."

"Fuck that," said the children, and exploded. This year, especially, the local scene saw an infusion of youth like it hasn’t seen since rave. And like rave, there’s just no stopping the march of the Smurfs — with more to come, if the wide-eyed, underage flood at LoveFest was any indication. Everything’s escaping my control! Lazer bass! Bloody Beetroots remixes! Banger freaks! Electro-cumbia! Disco perversion!

I’d blame the hipsters, except I helped create them, d’oh. And even if, in this onslaught of danceable enthusiasm, some of that old underground feeling seems to be lost — the yearning for an inverted hierarchy to escape the real world, the notion of a special dance floor family — it’s still kind of thrilling. Maybe I, the ghostess with the mostest, should float down from my high horse and show the new gen how to dance properly.

MARKE B.’S TOP 10 EARWORMS OF 2008

Frankmusik, "3 Little Words" (Island Music)

Ane Brun, "Headphone Silence (Henrik Schwarz Remix — Dixon Edit)" (Objektivity)

Clubfeet, "Die Yuppie Scum" and Gold on Gold (both Plant Music)

Mark E., "Slave 1" (Running Back)

Foals, "Olympic Airways," Antidotes (Sub Pop)

SIS, "Nesrib" (Cecille)

Buraka Som Sistema, "Sound of Kuduro" (Modular)

The Golden Filter, "Hide Me" (Dummy)

The Very Best, "Sister Betina," Esau Mwamwaya and Radioclit are the Very Best mixtape

The Notwist, "Boneless," The Devil, You + Me (Domino)

>>MORE YEAR IN MUSIC 2008

Please, god, no — not Screamo 2.0

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December 10, 2008

4

By Justin Juul

BrokenCYDE: the musical equivalent of chopped fingers and molested children:

When anthropologists encounter bizarre rituals in faraway lands, they don’t pass judgment because it would defeat the purpose of the discipline. They try to remember that every culture has its own set of norms and taboos and that none of these belief systems is any more or less “right” than the next. Think about marriage for a minute. Most Americans insist that the nuclear family is the right way to go, but anthropology has shown us that other lifestyles are just as natural. Some men in India marry an entire line of sisters at the same time, rebellious Mormons may have twenty wives, Hugh Hefner lives in a robe and has sex with triplets half his age, etc.

These situations may seem fucked up to “us,” but you know what? Those people are happy and they get by just fine. Cultural objectivity is necessary because it promotes tolerance (pay attention CA voters!) and it encourages self-analysis. It is the key to enlightenment. Well, the same thing goes with music.

Prop 8: Stonewall 2.0?

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December 10, 2008

4

By Marke B.

Photo by Max Whittaker of Sacramento protestors

Did you call in gay to work today? I’m one of those fortunate few whose job it is to actually be as gay as possible — I fought long and hard for it, sweetz, lemme tell ya — so here I am in my fuzzy pink gorilla slippers and hot oil treatment blogging away for you. I’m fixing myself up to look pretty for tonite’s rally:

SF DAY WITHOUT A GAY RALLY & MARCH
Weds/10, 6pm, 24th and Mission, SF
www.daywithoutagay.org
protest8sf.wordpress.com

Protesting is hottt.

ALSO: Great piece in the New York Times today on how a new generation of queer activists was awakened by Prop 8. They’re calling it Stonewall 2.0, which is kind of like “duh,” but it’s great to read about and be inspired by the youth and their crazy internetz.

This quote, in particular, brought a tear to my eye:

“We’re a gay couple in West Hollywood, neither of us involved in activism, but we just wanted to help,” said Sean Hetherington, 30, a stand-up comic who was the first openly gay contestant ever to do battle, however briefly, in the Gladiator Arena. “And we were amazed at what happened.”

From arena to gay-rena, hunky sister-man.

But maybe more on-target would be this: