Secrets & Lies!

Our resident club queen talks more scandalous scene trash. Stop the presses!

By Marke B.

SCENESTERS WHO KNOW and "love" me know I'm not one to gossip – I'm a freakin' tabloid in stilettos. And still they pour their hearts out to me, the dear things. Luckily, I've got a glitter belt in fairy jujitsu and a pic of Lindsay Lohan without makeup in my sock (not to mention a giant slab of muscle for a man), so I can beat them back when I pass the dish to you. I haven't lived through a whole year of drunken catfights, half-naked blackouts, wet jockstrap contests, and untold assloads of witty verbal backstabbing just to be quiet about it. Unh-unh.

Party out of bounds

Battle of the Rehabs No, not that kind of rehab – the fun kind. Promoters Marcia G. and Ryan Robles, of last year's famously drunken monthly club kid brunch mess Rehab and this summer's Bambuddha Lounge bacchanal Feather (601 Eddy, SF. 415-885-5088, www.bambuddhalounge.com) are suing the Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas for, they say, ripping off their Rehab concept for the Hard Rock's Sunday parties. Same name, similar logo and promotions, they claim. "Their party is a total cash cow skinfest with a pile of boobs in the pool," Marcia G. says, "and it grossed us out far too much to have our good name besmirched and bastardized any further!" She's sweet that way. To be fair, I tried to get the other side of the story, but I kept gagging on the words "Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas" to the 411 lady. Do they teach you not to do that in journalism school? Meanwhile, do not even think about calling your party Rehab or the suit's gonna fly. G. and Robles are planning another bombshell set to launch next year, Tabloid (www.rehabsundays.com). Look out, Enquirer ...

Ghost in the Madrone Two more patrons of hippest-bar-in-an-old-Victorian Madrone Lounge (500 Divisadero, SF. 415-241-0202, www.madronelounge.com) have reported seeing its famous ghost creeping 'round the back staircase. Is that what possessed mild-mannered bar manager Christine to get up on the bar and do a stripper dance the other week? Or is there another strain of Coyote Ugly going around? Maybe she was just excited about KRS-ONE bad-boy backup crew DJ Cochese and S-Five's new mad monthly, Temple of HipHop ...

Equal opportunity Gavin is a tranny chaser. Gavin is a tranny chaser. Blah, blah, blah. Seems all everyone wants to talk about now that Kimberly's out of the picture (or back in it, depending on the size of the ski lodge) is how they heard from a friend of a friend that the playboy mayor was spotted at this or that club with a palmful of silicone delight and some bad weave stuck in his teeth. We may never know the truth – and that's the best thing about wishful thinking – but any competition from the gender-enhanced certainly isn't stopping the biofemmes from going whole hog to catch Gavin's attentions. In fact, one well-known party girl recently reported being trapped alone in a booth at Pink (2925 16th St., SF. 415-431-8889, www.pinksf.com) with none other than his Mayorness. "I didn't know what to say to him, so I just flashed my tits," I got her to say after a couple shots. Well, who wouldn't? In fact, I was surprised she was so clothed in the first place. So what did Gavin do? "Nothing. Smiled." Hmm ...

Out and about Speaking of trannies. SuposiTori Spelling, Princess Kennedy, Bambi Lake, Putanesca, Ana Conda: all infamous scene queens whose "candy" I've seen falling out of their dress lately – sometimes intended, sometimes not. Do I sniff a new trend? Please, girls, I've only got a few good years left (probably fewer after they read this). Let's try to make them pleasant ones!

Goin' through changes

Castro turnovers Gay club impresario Greg Bronstein continues to rush into the vacuum left by other gay club impresario Les Natali (current owner of SF Badlands and the closed Pendulum) during his painful slide into local ignominy. With Luna (558 Castro, SF. 415-437-9352), Blue (2337 Market, SF. 415-863-2583), Lime (2247 Market, SF. 415-621-5256), the Bar on Castro (456 Castro, SF. 415-626-7220), and Sneaky Tiki (1582 Folsom, SF. 415-701-8454, www.sneakytiki-sf.com) already under his belt, Bronstein snatched up the former Detour in the Castro from Natali, to be reopened as the Bare Bone Bar (2348 Market, SF) sometime earlier next year (not so sure what I think of that name yet). He also recently purchased the Hush Hush (496 14th St., SF. 415-241-9944, www.hushhushlounge.com) but seems to be having trouble with the neighbors, who've been filing a lot of noise complaints. (What's with all the noise complaints against clubs lately? Please move back to Mountain View, folks.) Much as I fear club monopolies, I'm actually digging Bronstein's go-for-broke style, as he seems to be open to letting things like hip-hop, mixed crowds, and strong drinks flourish in his joints. That opinion almost changed, though, when I saw him snap his fingers outside one of his clubs two weeks ago and a chauffeur-driven Range Rover magically appeared. Too much, Greg ...

Another bar that Bronstein has a new hand in is the Transfer (198 Church, SF. 415-861-7499), at Church and Market, which has morphed from a laid-back biker dyke hang into a laid-back mixed-crowd lounge, complete with new wall mural and famous local DJs like Mauricio Aviles playing rock 'n' roll and hip-hop on the amped-up tables. While I miss my Transfer shot sisters (especially favorite bartender Lisa), I love what new manager Shawn Vergara, former bartender at Bar on Castro, is doing with the joint. "I had this big chunk of money saved up," he told me, "and I was like, why not use it to bring more local flavor to the Castro?" He seems dedicated to making sure the club doesn't tip too heavily toward a straight crowd and has already approached almost every gay DJ and promoter I know about programming. I just have one question: Where the heck did all those dykes go?

More makeovers In other turnover/makeover news, supercharged club Studio Z (314 11th St., SF. 415-252-7666, www.studioz.tv) is finally undergoing a much-needed remodel. Unfortunately the remodel doesn't include the questionable sound system.... North Beach just got a nice new hang (like, almost yesterday) when owners Alistair Monroe and Sunset Promotions (of SF Funkfest, North Beach Jazz Fest, and countless other fab fests) opened Mojito (1337 Grant, SF. 415-398-1120, www.mojitosf.com), a snazzy, Cuban, jazz-themed dance club and restaurant in the old La Bodega space.... Intellectual drinking den and New Wave City after-party hang Lit (101 Sixth St., SF. 415-278-0940, www.litloungesf.com) has changed hands and will become Playbar (shudder) sometime next year.... After more than 30 years under the same owners, fave rocker hangs Expansion Bar (2124 Market, SF. 415-863-4041), in the Castro, and Last Day Saloon (406 Clement, SF. 415-387-6343, www.lastdaysaloon.com), in the Richmond, have both been sold. Last Day will become the Rockit Room (sources say it looks better already), but word's still out on the fate of the Expansion.... The 1751 Social Club, in the Western Addition, (better known to all us hip-hop hedz as the former Storyville) got bought by Desi Danganan of Massive Selector and is now known simply as Social Club (1751 Fulton, SF. 415-441-1751, www.1751socialclub.com). Danganan's already welcomed legendary local scratchers Shortkut, Vin Roc, and Swiftrock back to the club (many folks fled after Storyville closed) for the return of one of my favorite club nights, Beat Lounge, every Tuesday.... Hidden gem Dylan's in the Mission has just become Homestead (2301 Folsom, SF. 415-282-4663), but the paint's too fresh to get a handle on the flavor yet ...

Meanwhile, the Endup (401 Sixth St., SF. 415-646-0999, www.theendup.com) continues its plunge into loungelike splendor. The new owners have completely redone the back area, added all sorts of digital video effects to the dance floor, and re-amped the sound system, which I say is now the best in the city. They've even added a giant stone Buddha to the roof, but my Buddha-chasing years are behind me (I'm 86'ed from all the city's bear bars), so I don't know what to think about that. Club promotions manager Alison Page, who's been there since way before the legendary club was sold last year, tells me "the new owners are great. They're committed to really turning the club around and broadening its horizons." I don't know if "broadening its horizons" means stopping me from passing out on the back patio at 4 a.m. after too many Cuervo shots, but hey – tradition dies hard. Local promoters are taking advantage of the upgrade, and already Saturday nights at the Endup are where all the cool kids clamor to be (although I seriously miss the recently departed Miss Juanita More's crazy-diva presence as monthly hostess). Can you believe the place has been around for 32 years?

House on fire

The rebirth It's been high diva-drama on the house scene for real this year, OK? 2005 is the latest year in which everyone said house died. Supastar DJ culture tanked. Bay Area house venues shrank. Sugar, Remedy, and other longtime club nights folded, as well as the one new club that tried hardest to keep house alive, Jack. Kids all followed the shiny electroclash piper away from the tribal beat. (Soapbox moment: And this whole time some people are still, for whatever reason, blaming ... Asians? What the fuck?) There's been a lot of acrimony flying among DJs and promoters who've known each other for years, friends I came up in the scene with, whose floors I've passed out on after four days straight of partying. There've been other promoters who saw a good thing and cash-moneyed and/or flirted their way into the venue so they could take it over. And then there've been DJs stealing promoters' boyfriends. Would that it were all lies!

But whatever. The splits are actually doing the scene good. Everybody's starting their own new project, sometimes in competing slots. And a pretty amazing array of promoters and labels got off their butts and banded together to fill in the gaps. (In this category, I have to give it up especially for the Salted crew at Mighty [19 Utah, SF. 415-626-7001, www.mighty119.com] on Saturdays.) I suddenly have, like, eight places to go and dance all night on weekends again. It looks like everything's back as it should be: underground. A little competition can be good, maybe. I just wish things hadn't got so personal this time ...

Up and coming Who's new? Who's hot? Well, besides the huge triumph of the entire alternaqueer scene this year (see "Alternaqueers Are Go!," page 12), a few sky-high personalities have definitely come to the fore. I'm loving Foxy Contin for his fucked-up half-drag faggotry. The Club Macho kids, Zac Posse and David Toro, souped up the scene this year with their crazy antics. Promoter Juan Jesus of Beatbox Events (www.beatboxevents.com) did a slam-bang job with this year's Miss Trannyshack Pageant (where first runner-up Faux Pas, with her stunning postapocalyptic Sinéad O'Connor number, sailed into local drag legend). Favorite around-town door boys: Jacob, Jonas, Marvin, and Spider. Favorite around-town door girls: Kelly Fox and Maile. Brash young local buck Joseph Fenity's irreverent porn star interview podcasts (www.pornstarstalk.com) are rocketing up the iTunes charts. And DJs Earworm (www.djearworm.com) and are emerging as the kids everyone wants to play at their party ...

Flying blind

With deepest respects to one of my club writer-fashion disaster idols, Michael Musto (and before I lose any more friends), I gotta slip into blind-item mode here, if only to protect the already fabulously tarnished names of the guilty parties. My downlow hotline is ringing off the hook with shady scene activity, so it's time to play "Name that Scene Queen".... Which odds-against contestant of a popular club "pageant" slipped one of the key judges a "free holiday in Colombia" and, to the watching crowd's whispered puzzlement, suddenly ended up being crowned winner? Which promoter called the cops on his own club because he couldn't stand the "high-pitched squawks" of several invading bachelorette parties? Which world-famous DJ stepped outside to "powder up" and accidentally locked the booth door behind him, leaving a packed local dance floor without music for almost half an hour?

Which all-about-town drag queen has become so synonymous with powdered substances that mentioning her name is now a way to politely inform someone of visible residue, as in "Girl, I see you're here with (X)"? Which slumming society ball debutante has now been spotted wearing the same designer outfit three times in one month – and it's a bad outfit? Which irate club owner tackled which shady promoter, wanted for fraud and identity theft, in an attempt to perform a citizen's arrest – but himself was taken into custody when freaked bystanders called the cops? Which club kid wannabe was seen wandering in a daze outside Sneaky Tiki, in SoMa, with his pants 'round his ankles, too drunk to say "Aloha"? Which bitch of a club columnist was recently spotted on his knees at the Eagle in broad daylight, "doing research"?

Oh wait, that last one was me ... Marke B. says the only way to combat the vacuous media stranglehold of celebrity culture is to become your own fabulous disaster – and then tell him all about it. He writes the Bay Guardian's biweekly Super Ego clubs column and eagerly awaits your e-mails at superego@sfbg.com.