Lips, Inc.

Farewell, Sweet Lips! Plus: Singular Sensation, Dam Funk, Marques Wyatt, Janaka Selekta, and more nightlife

Ryan Heffington and Fauxnique, sweatin' to the newies at the packed Singular Sensation last month

SUPER EGO Pride was huge and mostly cute, although I was bummed out by all the trash. (The litter, I mean.) I say next year everyone who goes has to prove their queer credentials by designing dazzling outfits recycled from castoff compostable cups, clove butts, loose boa feathers, meat-on-a-stick sticks, leftover rainbow Smirnoff wristbands, and broken drag newbie heels.

Stand and wobble with me, sustainable sisters of the night!

Still, it was nice to see Pride acknowledge the tastes of its changing demographic with an expanded emphasis on Latin music, soul, and hip-hop at the dance stages. That replaced classic diva house and disco with an alternative musical history of Pride, and it was a lovely change. This year, it fell to the radical faeries of the Freedom Village to preserve that certain old-school strain of gay celebration with rare disco tunes, historical shrines (walking through the rest of the celebration, you'd have been hard-pressed to find any visual evidence that Pride was older than Rihanna's hair), and, of course, a drag queen named Margaret Cholo drinking her own urine as she lip-synced to "Party in the USA." Pride.

I'm on a homo-historical bent lately because word just came down that my spiritual pen mother, the ever-saucy nightlife gossip columnist Sweet Lips of the Bay Area Reporter, is retiring at age 87 after 39 years of covering a vibrant slice of the San Francisco gay scene. Child, she did not go easy — for the past few years she was homebound, but that didn't stop her from sending her "spies" out into the bars and reporting all the scandal and drama. I was terrified of these spies. Sweet Lips knew all, and wasn't afraid to say it.

In 39 years I'll be 42, and I write about all kinds of scenes besides the gay one. But I stand on the padded and studded shoulders of Sweet Lips, Mr. Marcus (her leather-scene chronicling coworker who passed away earlier this year), and all the other dishy, insomniac, probably slightly alcoholic, definitely devoted nightlife columnists who came before me. Thank you, Ms. Lips: Long live the mouthy queens.



If you haven't tuned in to this Angelino master of Princely funk — or at least tripped out once to the deconstructed '80s wonder of his recent Toeachizown — then you crazy. Live, he's even better, and will be joined by synth-loner Nite Jewel. (They'll both join forces for a Nite Funk performance as well.) DJ Pickpocket presides.

Thu/1, 9 p.m., $15 advance. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF.



Let's get sweaty! Far-too-hip Los Angeles dance instructor Ryan Heffington is coming to town to Olivia Newton your John on the dance floor. Think Richard Simmons without the peek-a-boo shorts and closet. Fauxnique and Husband host, DJs Pee Play and Stanley Frank lube up the legwarmers.

Thu/1, 10 p.m., $7. Paradise Lounge, 1501 Folsom, SF.



With his weekly Deep parties, Marques has pretty much held down the L.A. fort for soulful house music, single-handed, for the past 13 years or so. His sets can get heady — he's not afraid to take you into some fierce and spiritual headspace — but build so much organic rhythmic momentum that you won't mind leaping into the void. With M3 and Jayvi Velasco.

Fri/2, 9 p.m., $10. Triple Crown, 1760 Market, SF.


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