lit
Forever under 21
Where's a real, live club kid to go at night? A look at the Bay Area's underage scene.

By Deborah Giattina

From left, Jermaine Anderson, Young Chris, Jermaine Haynes, and Alvedore Olano at the Crib.
Guardian Photo by Lori Spears
MY FRIENDS AND I are standing in line waiting to get into a popular South of Market nightspot and feeling a bit sheepish about it. We're no spring chickens, and the Crib SF, marketed to "gay boys and girls and their friends," is open to those 18 and over and attracts a very young crowd. Silently, we wonder if the Bay Area youth surrounding us think we're pervy old crows looking to score some barely legal action. But as I watch them killing time in the slow-moving queue, I realize that, if they notice us at all, they probably just think we look hella uptight standing there acting all nervous.

A few heads down, a girl with large gold-hoop earrings swigs off a bottle of champagne. Behind me, a flamboyant young man assesses his female friend's outfit, a wifebeater with a slit down the front. She smiles as the guy cups, then hoists, her extremely ample bosoms in appreciation, making a boisterous "whomp, whomp" sound as he does so. "Whoa," one of my friends quietly remarks.

A guy in baggy clothes pulls off a baseball cap to show some friends his new braids, which, to everyone's surprise, only cover half his head. The hair on the opposite side shoots up like a hedge. Is it a deliberate fashion statement? Or has he not yet raised the money to get the rest installed? I'm not sure, but I tense up, anticipating an onslaught of derision from his crew. Instead, they thoughtfully finger his scalp as if contemplating the stylist's chops. They don't seem entirely convinced, but they smile and tell him it looks good. I forget about feeling old and start to feel confused. I thought kids were mean and cliquey, especially club kids. But everyone here seems to be getting along. What's up with that?

It's an interesting question, but my mental process is interrupted by the sight of four glisteningly nubile young women, shoulders back, hands clasped, strutting toward the front of the line. Cue the slow-mo and Joan Jett's version of "Crimson and Clover." We gasp as they pass by and one reveals a plaid mini so short it fails to cover the rather ripe curves of her derriere. Goodness, does her mother know she's wearing that? OK, I'm not scared or confused anymore. I'm slightly horny and hopelessly longing for those precellulite days when all eyes were on my ass.

And then, finally, we're inside and heading for the club's largest room, where an enormous video screen showing Britney, Toni, and, hell, even vintage Bell Biv Devoe videos, presides over a dance floor packed with queer kids and their friends of all stripes and sizes. Twenty or so are doing the electric slide. Couples hide in corners and booty-grind. Everyone's moves are intimidatingly awesome. Members of both sexes are wearing basketball shorts and jerseys, and lots of girls favor the blazer-and-tie schoolboy look. The cutest of the boys cop mad style from Mario Vasquez, everyone's favorite fallen American Idol.

Later on, in the ladies' lounge, guys and girls pile on top of each other and tell me why the Crib is their favorite place to go. "Everyone here is so friendly, and there's nooooo attitude," explains Jermaine Anderson, 20, who discovered the club after attending his first Pride Parade in San Francisco. His friend, Alvedore Olano, also 20, agrees; they drive down together from Sacramento weekly for the Crib's Thursday-night event. There are places for people under 21 to go in Sacramento, but according to Anderson, "You can't be as free." I see what he means when the Crib's go-go dancers fill the cages looming above the dance floor with a succession of boy-on-boy-on-girl-on-girl-on-boy-again gyrations.

The Crib certainly provides a unique venue in the 18-and-over nightclub scene of San Francisco, such as it is. A lot of towns are lucky if they have one place for people under 21 to go shake it. Chances that the event specifically caters to queers are much closer to none than slim – which is probably why many of the club's regulars come from the suburbs.

But how much else is there around here to draw the underagers out clubbing? Well, it's sinfully slim pickings for live music, especially in San Francisco (at least the East Bay has places like the steadfastly all-ages 924 Gilman Street and Burnt Ramen Studios), and it's slimmer still among the dance clubs. Aside from 715 Harrison, home to the Crib, Tonic (hip-hop, R&B, and more), and City Nights (Latin house and hip-hop); Glas Kat (formerly the Trocadero), which hosts goth favorites Death Guild and Bondage-A-Go-Go; and Popscene (live acts and Britpop), at 330 Ritch – San Francisco's 18-and-over club life is pretty much nonexistent.

Devin Lamadora at the Crib. Guardian Photos by Lori Spears
George Lazaneo, a nightclub promoter since 1992, explains why: "For the last 10 years there has been practically a moratorium on 18-and-over clubs." Permitting used to be in the hands of local police stations, until the July 2003 creation of the Entertainment Commission, which, he says, is much more amenable to reviewing requests. (In 2004 the Board of Supervisors also passed an ordinance allowing 18-and-over clubs to stay open until 4 a.m.) As Bondage-A-Go-Go's promoter, Lazaneo's glad Glas Kat has the proper Class 47 liquor license, which allows establishments to serve alcohol and admit people 18 and over. Even if only 5 percent of Bondage's regulars are between 18 and 21, as Lazaneo claims, at least the young doms and subs (and their goth friends) have someplace to go Wednesday nights.

Another contributing factor is the loss of 18-and-over and all-ages hip-hop events at venues that used to hold them. A few years ago CELLspace stopped holding its all-ages hip-hop events after being cited for code violations. Kelly's Mission Rock, a China Basin restaurant and nightspot, recently got its late-night and entertainment permits suspended – a decision that has yet to take effect and that the venue is appealing before the Entertainment Commission – owing to noise and vandalism outside. In evaluating how it runs events, Kelly's broke ties with a few of the 18-and-over promoters it worked with, but still books nights produced by Nexus Productions and Exquisite Events.

Bob Davis, the commission's executive director, insists that proper management of a space – which includes solid security, taking steps to control what happens outside, smart promotion, and communication with the local police station – will help sustain a club. He also says he feels positive that Kelly's new management will rise to the occasion. And as summer approaches, the commission has been receiving a lot of inquiries from clubs about holding 18-and-over events, so things might be looking up. In fact, Gus Bean of Gus Presents, the Crib's creator, says he's starting another 18-and-over night, called Tasty, a queer-friendly club that will give Crib kids a place to go on the weekend. The party starts June 18 and takes place third Saturdays at Boondock Bay, a venue not far from 550 Barneveld in the Bayview-Hunters Point area.

Meanwhile, over in Oakland, youth are starved for things to do. For years teenagers have had few late-night social outlets aside from impromptu sideshow parties organized through word of mouth and held on random street corners. Lately this traditional weekend activity, marked by booming car stereos and folks doing doughnuts at intersections, has been erupting into violence.

Enter Raparations Records, an organization located on a pleasant, tree-lined street in downtown Oakland. The nonprofit, now in its third year of operation, is a record label and studio with some state-of-the-art mixing equipment, but it also runs an internship program aimed at training young Oaklanders to organize and promote their own events for youth ages 14 to 21. On June 3, just such a group of emerging entrepreneurs launched Kool Aid, a monthly hip-hop night at the Noodle Factory featuring DJs, break-dancing contests, and giveaways. Anita de Asis, the organization's program manager, says the club will also be promoting a healthy lifestyle by inviting other organizations to do outreach like safe-sex advocacy and drug-use prevention there.

I get a hint of what the Kool Aid gang will be like at a party thrown by the previous internship class, now on its own and promoting events as White Tee Productions. On the night before Memorial Day, traditionally a bit crazy, four of them host the Takeoff, an evening of seriously tight hip-hop entertainment at Oaklandish, an art space near Jack London Square.

When I ask 19-year-old Reinaldi Gilder of White Tee what he thinks kids would be doing if it weren't for all-ages nights like this one, he says, "Probably hanging out on Jack London Square getting harassed by the police."

The clubs

Boondock Bay Third Saturdays, Tasty (www.thecribsf.com/tasty), 2246 Jerrold, SF. No phone.

Glas Kat Mondays, Death Guild (www.deathguild.com); Wednesdays, Bondage-A-Go-Go (www.bondage-a-go-go.com), 520 Fourth St., SF. (415) 495-6620, www.glaskat.com.

Kelly's Mission Rock First and third Saturdays, Nexus Promotions; monthly, Exquisite Events (see Kelly's Web site), 817 Terry A. Francois Blvd., SF. (415) 626-5355, www.kellysmissionrock.com.

Noodle Factory First Fridays, Kool Aid, 1255 26th St., Oakl. (510) 893-2330, www.oaklandnoodlefactory.org.

715 Harrison Thursdays, the Crib SF (www.thecribsf.com); Wednesdays, Tonic (www.myspace.com/tonicbayarea); Saturdays, City Nights (sfclubs.com/calendar-cn-sat.html), 715 Harrison, SF. (415) 546-7938.

330 Ritch Thursdays, Popscene SF. (www.popscene-sf.com), 330 Ritch, SF. (415) 541-9574.