If the last Gemini Disco Paradise party was any indication (18-piece disco band Escort, performances at midnight and 3 a.m., packed crowd, go-go dancers, balloon drop, cabaret-style performances), the second Paradise this Saturday night (5/17) should deliver on its promise to be a debaucherous, all-night disco dance party channelling the spirit of Studio 54 or Paradise Garage, the infamous gay NYC nightclub from the '80s.
Christopher McVick's Paradise Disco Trailer
Mezzanine and Gemini Disco are bringing the original disco divas from the '70s Sister Sledge ("We Are Family" and "He's the Greatest Dancer"), as well as DFA's disco-revivalists Holy Ghost! (DJ set), with local supporting DJs Derrek Love and Nicky B (Gemini), BT Magnum and Black Shag (Beat Electric), and Honey Soundsystem. Christopher McVick and his entourage help ignite the disco fever with their outlandish circus/disco/cabaret antics, including theatrical choreography, stick ponies, and glitzy drag performances.
Sister Sledge perform "He's the Greatest Dancer"
Paradise All-Night Disco Party
May 17th, 10 pm to dawn, $15 advance
Mezzanine, 444 Jessie Street, 415-625-8880 www.mezzaninesf.com
In this week's Super Ego clubs column, I finally take on the banger scene's hardcore electro glitz riot on the city's dance floors. The sound and style originated in France, mostly, and is helping to resuscitate the much-maligned term "euro" -- commonly associated with over-caffeinated, hyper-sugary tunes that fitted really awful embroidered jeans and Gucci knockoff sunglasses on a couple generations of appletini swillers.
I'm much more into the new euro, needless to say, and in Paris at least, bangers are associated with a dance craze, tecktonik (also spelled tektonik). Here's what it looks like, to the wonderfully banged-up tune of fabulous French rapstress-chanteuse Yelle's "A Cause de Garcons." (Her show here at the Independent last month was off the hook, btw, and she featured a sequined pink Stephen Sprouse-like dress reading "Smells Like Teen Spirit." Fierceness!)
Goofy, but sweetly energetic. The dance in fact originally started in the early-mid 2000s, in Parisian megaclub Metropolis, where it was performed to a much harder sound, a direct descendant of rave music: much more trancey and happy hardcore. (It's said the term "tecktonik" actually refers to the clash of hardcore dance styles coming in from Belgium and the Netherlands then, crashing into each other like techtonic plates.)
The two somewhat over-it-looking white dancers in the Yelle video above are famous lookalike tektoniquistes VaVan and TreAxy -- household names in France. Here's a video of them performing an early version of the dance, called "jumpstyle" (some still prefer to call it that, others use the name to refer to the music) and done to a "more traditional" musical style -- you can really see the liquid rave-dance origins here, and yeah, it looks more than a tad ridiculous, but why not?
There's a reason for the term "jumpstyle." Also happening at the time -- around 2005ish, as with all underground phenomena the timing is fuzzy -- and in the same clubs, but to more amped-up happy hardcore, was a revival of the Melbourne Shuffle, an old rave dance from the early '90s that really only looks good when you do it in extraordinarily baggy pants. The "shufflers" often squared off with, or at least disassociated themselves from, the tight-pantsed "jumpers." (In my head, they're like the Jets and the Sharks.) Also, despite its name, "jumping" is much more about the upper body and random skips, whereas "shuffling" is all about lower glide. Here's the Melbourne Shuffle:
So, OK, what does any of this have to do with Justice, and the Ed Banger Records scene and sound?
Call me overly-dramatic but Duran Duran have and will forever be my favorite band. They have been since I was five. That's probably why one of my greatest regrets is opting for a Nintendo console over tickets to the "Arena" tour -- what was to be the band's final outing (with all five founding members) -- for my sixth birthday back in 1984.
While seeing reformed lineups both onstage and at record signings in the 90's, and even encountering John Taylor one fateful morning at the Noah's Bagels that I worked at in 1997, offered some consolation, nothing would come close to seeing the Fab Five together again on their 2008 reunion tour.
All pics by Quartknee Kwatek
While guitarist Andy Taylor's recent departure from the group may have sprinkled on my parade, I can't say that their Bay Area Red Carpet Massacre tour stop at Sleep Train Amphitheatre in Concord May 2 suffered for it.
The three-act show, which debuted in late 2007 on Broadway, was highly-theatrical, incorporating all the necessary show-stopping elements.
There was unique staging in the band's utilization of a simple skyscraper background and a variety of light sources -- from stage lights to bulbs -- to evoke a variety of moods instead of traditional video screens.
The musical numbers -- from the darker tracks off their Timba-Lake-produced "Red Carpet Massacre" (2007) like bass-heavy opener "The Valley", beat-driven "Night-Runner" and hip pop number "Skin Diver" complete with Timbaland rapping loop to rearrangements of the band's lighter classics such as "Hungry Like the Wolf", "The Reflex" and "Rio" -- were mixed gorgeously.
The mid-section of the show was run entirely on synthesizers and drum machines, so
tracks like "Last Chance on the Stairway" "All She Wants Is" and "I Don't Want Your Love" became even more electro-shocked, blending seamlessly with the band's cover of The Normal's "Warm Leatherette".
The storied Metro Bar in the Castro moved down the street to Church and Market a while ago (the old space became the suspiciously Metro-alike Lookout) -- and people worried for its future. Luckily, the minds behind the Metro are sharp enough to know they need a draw, and the new Metro has already become a premiere trash-drag venue (multiple Joan Crawford tribute nights aside.)
It's even managed to lure one of San Francisco's bloody, beloved drag traditions, The Cookie Dough Monster Show, run by Cookie Dough herself (with her cute DJ partner MC2), from its pleasant perch at Harvey's.
The biweekly Saturday night drag-stravaganza may be big on low-budget thrills, but its offal-covered heart is always in the right place. This Saturday, May 10, features the freakishly unexplainable House of Salad, whom I adore. These underaged children will grow up to be starz someday, I tell you -- starz.
Holy Spazmosis!. Jumpy young rockers Anavan drove up from Salt Lake City to play the queer (and friends!) punk monthly Trans Am at Club Eight for a rapturous beer-spurtin' crowd last Saturday.
Anavan, "You're Taking Me Out"
The frantic foursome greeted us with mucho fog machine, trademark hockey helmets, drum, bass, and a wall of synths. And then everything got crazy in a voices-in-your-head way (mostly thanks to the skittering, hyperactive vocals mixed waaaay back in the echo-delay mix.)
Courtesy of the muthafuckin' LA Times
In the case of the hockey helmets, visual connections to those masked masters Daft Punk, MSTRKRFT, and occasionally (if primly painted-on facial scruff counts -- yes, I'm calling those skinny French boys out) Justice might be made. And sonically they can sometimes resemble those glam-tech outfits a teeny-tad, mostly in their boppy keyboard riffs. But Anavan adds its own cymbal-crashing, wildly energetic No-Wave twist, sure to please the art school crowd (Richard Hell is all the rage again, haven't you heard?) and dance floor maniacs as well as indie kids. I expect you'll hear them burning down discos near you soon.
(Next month a Trans Am, Sat May 3, features SF native cuties Ex-Boyfriends -- should be rocking'.)
Every metal show contains plenty of dudes who merely headbang softly to themselves with their hands stuffed into the pockets of their tight black hoodies. A sea of empty faces they are. What fun is that? In honor of our metal issue this week, here are a few ways you can cheerlead the next time you're at a metal show.
Classic horns A staid gesture to be sure — but fairly reliable. You know the drill here. Turn it to the side and pump it like a fist for added pleasure.
The Claw When deploying just one hand to exhibit the claw, as opposed to the invisible orbs, bring it close to your face and pull downward for a melodramatic affect. Growl a little, too, like it just can't get any more metal ... when deep down you know it really can.
Land ho There's really never been a sufficient name for outright pumping your fist or fists at a show, but some folks around here are calling it "land ho." It's better off with no distinct title. Fist pumping during violent blastbeats or a huge, doomy breakdown is raw and organic, like the beginning of time. It needs no name. And it spans genres. We advise, however, that you reserve dual fists for truly metal moments. The members of Portland, Ore.'s Tragedy have been known to throw out a fist or two while playing, but this is extremely dangerous and should be done by professionals only.
Invisible orbs This is a variation of the Claw, except that you do it with both hands and hold them out in front of you rather than near your face, as if you're holding two invisible orbs. We contend that the invisible orbs should be savored while you're listening to Scandinavian metal or anything heavily influenced by it. If you scan the artwork on old black metal records, the bands are often posing with some version of the orbs, gritting their teeth and trying to look as menacing as possible.
Amazing and vivacious electro-kitty Lady Tigra takes over Cafe Du Nord tonite. Look out! She's "always got her foot firmly planted up asses": (Watch those little spoons, kids)
Lady Tigra, "Bass on the Bottom"
I've been cel-chasing her all over town for an interview, following her lady tracks, but all I have to offer you is the video below and sweet memories of her purr on my voice mail. Here's the decades-old hit you may know her flirty chirp from (hello, Avenue D, Fannypak, etc!) From 1988, boy-eee:
L'Trimm, "The Cars That Go Boom"
"When lo and behold there appeared a mirage, he was hooking up his speakers in his daddy's garage." See you there.
Clubs: Honey Soundsystem looks to 'Dancer from the Dance'
Honey! All photos by Joshua Rotter.
By Joshua Rotter
It's a story as old as disco. Attractive "straight" Midwesterner moves to the big city to find himself, only to get blindsided by a barrage of drugs, sex, and tea dances. True, dancing became a major component of gay life in the post-Stonewall '70s, when the dance floor served as both a place of expression and escape for many gay men. It's this defining period in gay history that novelist Andrew Holleran highlighted in his 1978 novel, Dancer from the Dance.
Taking his title from poet William Butler Yeats's 50 year-old line, "How can we know the dancer from the dance?" Holleran attempted to examine this brain-twister in his chronicle of gays looking for companionship and understanding in pre-AIDS New York City and Fire Island, by focusing on the misadventures of his beautiful yet provincial protagonist Anthony Malone, who loses himself in the shuffle and shag club scene.
Thirty years later, the Honey Soundsystem collective - DJs Pee Play, KenVulsion, Robot Hustle, Jason Kendig, and Josh Cheon - took cues from this groundbreaking work for their most recent theme party.
Gurl, I was brought to. The inimitable DJ Jeffrey Sfire from NYC (2 cute!)
blasted classic Bam Bam acid house track "Give It To Me" from 1988 at Sunday's Honey Soundsystem Dancer From the Dance party at 103 Harriet -- underneath 1015 Folsom, and the new party hotspot -- and the roof burnt down. Yes, I'm ancient/legendary enough to have been there when this was originally tearing up the floors (at London's Second Summer of Love, no less), but the kids went wild last weekend as well. Time for another acid revival? (DJs Derek B and Silence Fiction tried this a few years back with their Jack the Club night in 2005, and it was awesome, bring it back). No real vid, but song below:
Sfire, who also specializes in gritty Italo Disco and slinky rare Euro tracks, will be on local-hottie DJ Josh Cheon's West ADD Slave to the Rhythm show tonite 9pm-11pm, www.westaddradio.com and then live tonite at Booty Call, an actually pretty great party at Bar on Castro (I know, gag, but go! Juanita More hosts!)
PS Rumor has it Sfire will also be making many guest appearances throughout the weekend at select Portland underground venues ...
"Growing old, it's hard to be the angry young man/ Turn away. Turn and walk away" - so observes the discernibly less-vexed Bob Mould on his recently released District Line (Anti-), and the line is as good as any in summing up the mood shift we've seen in the guitar-wielding singer-songwriter in recent years.
With his latest, Mould still continues to stare down a demon or two, but he appears rather content to do so. Dare I say it? Oh, why not - there are moments on the disc in which he even could be described as sounding downright upbeat. Bully for him, I say, and double-bully for crafting such an engagingly diverse collection of songs. See the new Mould for yourselves Wednesday, March 26 - that's when he and his band take to the Great American Music Hall stage, folks. Me, I'm already agog over the possibilities of the set-list, considering the breadth of his quarter-century-plus career.
Since the guy brought up the subject and all, it's worth a little pondering. Ah, the angry young man thing: we music obsessives tend to really tighten our focus on this supposed issue, don't we? Holding our heroes to high standards is one thing, but denying them the same inevitability that we all will eventually meet - growing older - has always struck me as absurd. Worse yet, we often insist on freezing them in time, keeping them bottled and bathed in piss 'n' vinegar and then carping away if they fail to deliver the same blister and bluster of their early to mid-20s.
NYC socialite Andrew Butler and warble-meister Antony Hegarty of Antony and the Johnsons have teamed up with slinky songstresses Nomi and Kim Ann Foxmann to create Hercules and Love Affair -- and have produced killer club tune "Blind" that's been rocking after-dark boxes from the Transfer to Pink lately.
Hercules and Love Affair
(Anyone who caught DJ Frankie Knuckles throwing down his own lush remix of the jam at the final Fag Fridays won't soon forget it -- or Frankie's entire tearjerking surprise set, either.) When we walked into A Different Light Bookstore in the Castro this weekend to snag a copy of super-faggotty Butt Magazine (featuring local fashion superstar duo Nice Collective showing their junk and the former drummer of local glamsters Mon Cousin Belge pounding the skins naked) and heard this loveliness pumping thru the speakers we knew it had arrived ....
Self-titled album "Hercules and Love Affair" dropped March 10 on EMI/DFA and we can't get enough of it ...
Clubs: Gem sweaters, buenos Zizeks, grimy Rupture, divas
Too too much going on this Saturday March 8, kids, and these are just the above-ground parties! I don’t know how I’m gonna make ‘em all, but we just finished work on the next issue of Scene, our nightlife mag which drops next wednesday in the guardian (look for it!) and I'm ready to party my pumps off. Good thing I always carry an extra pair of bedazzled flats in my Safeway paper bag purse …
Leslie and the Lys, spaz-hop queens straight outta Iowa (via Boston) who recorded the immortal line “Wearing gold spandex pants/ I made a hip-hop album” will be rocking their goddam GEM SWEATERS at an early set (9pm) at the lezbo-rock heavenly Cockblock at Rickshaw Stop for only 10 stinkin’ bucks, which lets you stay the whole evening to hear the adorable DJ Nuxx and friends throw down.
Then it’s off to Kafana Balkan at 12 Galaxies (more info here), the city’s premier Romany dance party, with awesome, way-deeper-than-Balkan-Beatbox DJ Zejlko and friends. If it’s anything like the last one (with crazy pics we featured in the last Scene nightlife magazine) then we may not be able to tear ourselves away ….
Brass Menazerie at Kafana Balkan
to hit up one of the best-sounding parties at Mezzanine in, like, a week – Zizek featuring DJ/Rupture and Tormenta Tropical.
Were you at Trannyshack this past Tuesday? Gurl, you missed it. Miss Juanita More put on a fierce and seamless 40 minute extravaganza of "Minnie the Moocher" Victrola soul-era tributes, complete with her signature "pass out spliffs to the crowd" move. It was all pretty breathless. And my pashmina reeked of weed!
A different context ("Edge of Aquarius" night at Trannyshack) but the same smoky gist
Anyway, what I really want to announce here is that it's time for another Trannyshack Reno. That's right, a 2-day, Easter weekend, 100+ drag queen blackout/road trip on a bus to see Trannyshack take over Reno, brought to you by mega-bigwigs Heklina and Peaches Christ.
Distracted Noise Pop: Magnetic Fields' Stephin Merritt ducks the dog to chat longer
By Alex Felsinger
Magnetic Fields leader Stephin Merritt - what a chatterbox. Read the rest of his interview here.
SFBG: I made the mistake of listening to the new album on some laptop speakers, so when I plugged in a nice pair of headphones, it was nice to hear all the layers underneath the distortion.
Stephin Merritt: I’m curious to hear about people who hear it for the first time under crummy Internet conditions.
Wow -- on my second week in rehab I was scaling the drywall with toothpicks under my fingernails. But maybe if you put me in a closed studio packed full of record label plants and some stellar backing musicians (with an intro by Cuba Gooding, Jr.) then perhaps I could have delivered one of those super-extra special TV historical moments that Amy Winehouse provided last night at the Grammys, with the below double medley.
Her face at the end, a mask of screaming "fuck you" extrospective hypocrisy had me screaming "punk-ass goddess!!!"
Calling all queer Arabs, Middle Easterners, and North Africans (and lusty friends) -- time for another wild, dancefloor-packing Bibi party, habibis!
Yep, it's gonna be packed -- featuring DJs Emancipacion, Bahman, and Honey Soundsystem's own Josh Cheon. PLUS: a burlesque extravaganza with Dirty Phoenix's "Asses of Evil", Happy Hyder as "Saida," belly dancing, and so many hot folks you never knew were Arabs that you'll plotz. Here's a little taste of what you'll hear as you jingle your jangles:
This is a benefit for LGBTI Middle-Eastern, South West Asian & North African (SWANA) community (and is hosted by cutie man-on-the-SWANA-scene Rostam), so Bibi there!
"The truth can finally be told, Marke B.," said Trannyshack mama bear Heklina when I talked to her about her raucous 12-year-old trash-drag weekly at the Stud going dark in August. "I was gonna shut it down on our 10th anniversary -- that's just such a good, round number -- but I was in talks for the past two years with some big time studios about a Trannyshack reality series, so I kept it going. But I guess that's dead in the water now, so it's time to move on." Alas! But hurray for Heklina taking time out to figure herself out. And Trannyshack may return as a monthly, so that would be nice.
There have been so-so-so many disgustingly wonderful Trannyshack moments in the past dozen years to try to remember fully. I think I was at the opening night in 1996, but I was on a lot of meth then, so who the hell knows? Anyway, here are some performances for the ages. I'll be adding more in the next week as soon as I get off my ass and fight my way out of this paper bag hangover (never huff Aquanet people -- it'll make your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth.) And there are a ton of Trannyshack vids on YouTube -- except for some reason they've taken down clips from "Filthy Gorgeous: The Trannyshack Movie" -- I wanted that one where Juanita More and the dwarf get naked for "Put It In My Mouth." Anyway! Enjoy!
Show her some love: Robyn. Photo by Samantha Rapp.
By Joshua Rotter
Swedish singer-songwriter Robyn - best known in the US for her 1997 pop-R&B Top 10's "Show Me Love" and "Do You Know (What It Takes)" - might've been just another industry casualty, quickly fading into obscurity stateside due to record company mismanagement and a lack of creative control.
But on the verge of giving up in 2003, she discovered fellow Swedes the Knife's Deep Cuts CD, and reinvigorated by their electro-pop and independent spirit, collaborated with them on the beat-heavy fuck-you to her label "Who’s That Girl."
Soon she founded her own label, Konichiwa, and with producer Klas Åhlund (Teddybears), recorded her fourth studio album, the more electro-based Robyn, due out in the states this spring. Till then, her new The Rakamonie EP gives American audiences a preview of what's to come on tracks like the boombastic confidence booster "Konichiwa Bitches," the dance smash "With Every Heartbeat," and a dancehall cover of the dirty Prince classic "Jack U Off."
Now, a decade after her initial hits, Robyn returns to the US on her own terms for a three-city mini-tour to promote her new album. She'll appear at Popscene on Thursday, Feb. 7. But is this country ready for the pint-sized Swedish bombshell? Robyn was confident in a phone interview earlier this week from her first tour-stop in New York City.
SFBG: What is it like to be back in the US after a decade?
I knew it! I knew that once that trashy pole of nightlife fakulousness, Misshapes in NYC, closed, all the raunchy club kidz it spawned would either run for corporate cover (you can now hire the famous Misshapes DJs for corporate events -- will they displace Michael Bolton at next year's Oracle convention?) or hit the tragic talkshow circuit. Or hit the tragic talkshow circuit AND start their own "rap" band. Well, Johnny Makeup (aka Scotty Mouthbreather) is hitting that last option hard. Watch and wince, darlings:
PLUS: He -- along with the rest of his "V.I.P. Party Boys" will be featured on the Tyra Banks show this Wednesday discussing "how sex and drugs get tangled with fame." Um, don't you need to be famous first? Good luck to all!
PS: I've just received sad word that the other trashy pole of fakulousness (but in a seriously good way), Hot Dog in LA has closed. I'm hoping Mario Diaz, possibly the hottest promoter in the world, will now be free to lodge himself firmly in my Dumpster. Even if he did go a little too far into go-go boy territory at the end with his club ...
Yeah, yeah, we've all been bombarded with Italo Disco the past couple years in the clubs... BUT -- what about Italodisco tracks laid down by an actual Italian? And a cute gay fuzzy one at that?
This Tuesday night at the Transfer, fabulous Paduan superstar DJ Giacomo, one half of Italo Disco/cosmic funk/hi-NRG production whizzes Disco Dromo, guests at weekly raveup Chilidog, in association with Honey Soundsystem.
I first ran into Giacomo while waiting for a bus in Williamsburg on a rainy Thanksgiving vacation night. Later, in the musty, moldy basement of the Cock, Hunky Beau stuck a finger up a hole in his pants. So you know he's game for anything! (I mean that in the most respectful way possible, Giacomo!)
"Honeydog"
Chilidog + Honey Soundsystem presents:
Disco Dromo
Tuesday January 8
10pm-2am
The Transfer
198 Church (at Market)
415-861-7499 www.honeysoundsystem.com
Imagine our grandfatherly gay delight at the megaspectacle promised by the approaching SF Symphony's holiday show: a big screen showing of The Wizard of Oz accompanied by a live symphony orchestra! Imagine!
Let's hope the piccolos don't drown out those flying monkeys ...
This event is looking to be super-popular, so get your tix now! Oh! And come dressed as your favorite character -- there'll be a contest in the lobby!
Thursday, December 20 at 7:00 p.m.
Friday, December 21 at 7:00 p.m.
Saturday, December 22 at 2:00 p.m.
Children welcome and encouraged!
(Pint-sized ruby slippers not supplied) www.sfsymphony.org
Ah, yes – it’s that time of year again, and why not? There was a whole lotta sonics to love this past year in music, and below is my enhanced top 10 guiltless pleasures of 2007 list. I hope you disagree with and enjoy!
Yup, it’s true. The girl who writes about The Nutley Brass and Richard Cheese likes the kind of music that a guy with no hair except one neon yellow tendril plays. Which is to say, Stark Raving Brad and I have great fucking taste. And so, apparently, does the Eagle, who’s booked his band the Winsome Griffles to play this Thursday, the 13th.
Excitement! '70s-kid, Gen-X (and very probably gay) excitement! Charlotte Rae, aka Mrs Garrett from The Facts of Life is coming to the Empire Plush Room to perform cabaret versions of tunes from her album Songs I Taught My Mother.
What??? From her Broadway debut as Mrs. Peachum in The Threepenny Opera to her carrot-headed brooding over Jo, Blair, Natalie, and Tottie Tootie for most of my childhood to her current incarnation as cabaret vixen, Charlotte is tuly ... a Renaissance woman!
Tue, Nov 27 - Sun, Dec 2, $40
Empire Plush Room
940 Sutter, SF
(415) 885-2800 www.theempireplushroom.com
PS: OMFG Sally Kellerman is there Nov 23 & 24 ....
There's been a rash of Warholia on the club scene of late: A number of art-party installations, an attack of Joe Dallesandro clone-looks among the gay, and, of course, big sunglasses and drugged-out looking stares everywhere. Thank goddess the whole screw-on fright wig thing has yet to take off, but I bet someone's tryin'! Could it be our continued spiral into decadence caused by political powerlessness? Maybe. Or maybe it's just another generation discovering the silver-clouded joys (although hopefully not the overdoses) that fueled the Factory.
Whatevs, it's a joy. And the funnest manifestation is Club Heat, a tribute to the giant influence -- and even gianter "personalities" -- that Warhol's superstar system effected on modern club life (and art, and politics, and means of production ... ). Heat's a new monthly at the Stud -- last month's was off the hook, and this Friday is electro-stud DJ Donimo's b-day, which will most likely be scandalous -- that combines all the arty with the party to bring back the golden early years of Clublandinalia. Plus -- this one's got an '80s/kind of post-Studio 54 theme going on, which is a little mixed up, timeline-wise, but hey -- post-postmodern!. Pour one out for poor Edie, darling.
PS. I WANT MY MONEY! JUST GIVE ME MY MONEY! (Sorry, you can't call something Heat without me quoting the movie!)
OMFG -- you knew it would happen. Girly bear rap-rock AT LAST hits the viral mainstream. And yes, it's pretty terrifying. Even more terrifying -- why is SFBG becoming a clearinghouse for bearmusicalreleases? Because I loves me some scary, furry goodness, that's why.
JFYI -- if you wanna check out some serious bear hip hop -- ON THE FUR REALS -- check out my sexy homie Bigg Nugg below
One of my favorite parties of the year, Bibi, is having an encore this Saturday -- a sultry, kitschy, haremesque masquerade! Bibi is a raucous party for gay Southwest Asian and North Africans (SWANAs) -- not just those of Arabian persuasion, of course -- and their friends (my Jewish bf had a blast -- unity on the dance floor!). The last one was out of control -- the promoters only expected a few people, and yet hundreds crammed their beautiful, hipshaking female, male, and other asses into Club Eight for a pre-Pride Arab hoedown. Alalalalalalala-y!
DJs BaBa Q., Bahman, and Emancipacion take you to funky motherland with a fusion of Middle-Eastern North African & International Beats, and, yes, there'll be wild bellydancing sendups by drag queens SooozhyQ & Freyja. Nazli Hanem & Femme Fuego host, and Rostam and J. Maximillian put it all together. Plus it's a masquerade -- so wear something extra fab. I'm telling you it'll be hot -- and not just cuz I'm a naughty Lebanese homo. Here's a little taste of the tunes:
Bibi
Sat, Oct. 20, 9pm - 2am, $15 Club Eight
1151 Folsom, SF.
www.myspace.com/bibisf
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