But now that a diva can be "anyone with a midriff and an attitude" in the words of DJ Bus Station John, who pretty much reintroduced the sound of women singing to SF's dance underground with his bathhouse disco revival movement and Lady Gaga has dominated global charts merely by raiding Grace Jones' Goodwill bin, can we finally bury the overblown personality-machine and get back to the feeling?
"I'd be honored if anyone called me a diva," Lund says, demurely. "But really, I just want to be part of the energy, not to own it."
In the early '90s, along with seminal Detroit legends like Alton Miller, Kenny Larkin, and Carl Craig, ever-cool innovator Stacey Pullen explored and expanded a strain of the early techno sound, implicit in Derrick May's first releases, that conjured up complex jazz-fusion-like chord shifts and African drum patterns. The results oh, I'll just say it blew out some serious crania. They also helped establish techno as a distinctly black idiom at a time when its definition was being stretched so far it included sampling the Sesame Street theme song. In the late '90s, when everyone was trying to make money, Stacey ventured into harder, more Euro-friendly mixes with mixed results, at least to this Motor City queen's ear. The man behind Silent Phase and Kosmik Messenger is back in his semi-abstract yet supremely danceable comfort zone, though, and should be worth braving the Temple weekend crowd for. Pack your anti-bachelorette spray and prepare to be seriously moved.
Fri/12, 10 p.m., $20. Temple, 540 Howard, SF. www.templesf.com
THE MARTINEZ BROTHERS
Are Steve and Chris Martinez the great Bronx hope of house? The press hook about the dashing, actual brothers is that they're incredibly tender: now 20 and 17 respectively, they've been tearing up global parties for the past couple years. (Don't ask how they got past the door guys, nosy.) But the real news is that "house" in their case refers to deeply researched, deeply felt mixes that may be ravenous in scope Kerri Chandler, Pat Methany, and Slum Village all find their way onto TMB's decks but are reviving that endangered species: dancefloor soul. This is not to say they're fuddy-duddies in training, or that there's cobwebs on the needles. The energetic duo may not yet be, as many have posited, the new Masters at Work (I'll need to hear a few more releases from them before I'm willing to join that chorus), but when they give the electro-stutter treatment to Roland Clark's political a capella "Resist" over DJ Spen's string-driven throwdown "Gabryelle", the old-school spirits come down. House is alive and finding new children to speak through.
Sat/13, 10 p.m., $10 advance. Mighty, 119 Utah, www.mighty119.com