Marke B.

She's a man, baby!

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In a hilarious gaffe, local free monthly-ish paper for women The City Edition published a wild-eyed editorial this week accusing the Guardian of promoting prostitution, causing anorexia, keeping women from "tapping into orgasmic potential," and basically steering any girl under the age of 18 into a hellacious vice-hole from which she'll never return. (We caused Paris Hilton? Read more »

Welcome to Summer Scene 2007

Hot sauce!
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Click here to go to Summer SCENE 2007: Our Guide to Nightlife and Glamour

It's almost summer, and I feel shamelessly trendy. Not Bobby or big sunglasses trendy — or even Lindsay gray hoodie or Paris orange jumpsuit trendy (well, maybe a little). No, I wanna know. What's going on in the wide and wicked world of fashionable nightlife? Make me care, dammit.

In New York, the wild, proudly heterosexual rich kids who run the überpopular Box are talking about opening an after-hours bathhouse. Read more »

Club sprockets

Nightlife hits the movie screen at Frameline
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This year's Frameline is bursting with documentaries about legendary nightlife personalities. Call it the Party Monster effect. Read more »

Catching the tail of BALLE

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Gazelle Emami checks out Berkeley's film-oriented BALLE Conference ....

The purpose of educational films—bear with me—are to inform the public. But here’s where they bump into their biggest obstacle. Unless Al Gore is at the helm, they’re probably not going to get wide viewing beyond festivals that are specifically geared toward showing films of their kind. Enter the first ever Business Alliance for Local Living Economies’ (BALLE) Conference Film Festival, a two-day event that was held this past Tuesday and Wednesday at UC Berkeley’s Wheeler Auditorium. Read more »

Ditto, kiddo

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Cheryl Eddy wrote: Did you see that interview a few weeks ago where Keira Knightley was all, "I wish I had Beth Ditto's sexy body, but I'm just so naturally skinny! Tee hee!" Sure, beeyatch.

beth.jpg

This month's NME. FIERCE!

Windex music

Neominimal techno finds its footing on the Bay's dance floors
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superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO Swooning in the aural vortex of the last How Weird Street Faire, I lean against the central shade tower — heavens, it's hot! — as four separate whiz-bang DJ arenas writhe at my compass points like electronic eels. Psytrance, tech house, tribal, and jeep beats overlap in a fun fuzz of dissonance: a Euterpean kaleidoscope, if you will.

A shirtless Pan in crooked BluBlockers emerges from the sonic haze and politely offers a welcome quench from his Camelback. Ah, agua ... that's better. Read more »

NIMBYs wanna 86 Club Six (updated)

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UPDATE: I ADORE all the controversy this post is causing (thanks BeyondChron!). Admittedly I wrote this almost a month ago, then hightailed it to the jungles of Peru -- just as the facts of the case were becoming clearer. Steve Jones elaborated on the case later in the game here. Read more »

Fab gadgets

Bay Area Beatdrop rides the techno comeback -- and the latest DJ craze ... WiiJing!
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superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO "We're trying to reverse the great Berlin brain drain," DJ Solekandi of the Bay Area Beatdrop crew told me somewhat breathlessly. She was preparing to launch Filter.SF, the latest and so far biggest monument to the return of peninsular techno, an "official" Saturday monthly at Fat City, that would spill over — ecstatically — into 8 a.m. "Is that where my brain's been draining?" I replied, emptying my scotch glass warily. Read more »

Summer trippin'

Hit the road with these nifty jaunts
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marke@sfbg.com

After circling the same late-night block in the Tenderloin for any number of years, I recently donned my fabulous '50s air hostess uniform with matching kicky white pumps, splashed on a dash of Wind Song, and decided to experience the magic of travel. Why, there's a whole world knocking at my back door — and no length I won't go for a taste of adventure. Read more »

OCD on the LCD

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You really gotta feel for LCD Soundsystem -- fresh off the "dance-punk" darlings' conquest of Coachella, bopping untold thousands of the dehydrous ecstatic, there they were the next day, at Mezzanine, playing big to a relatively teensy roomful of adoring fans. Adoring fans, in SF's case, meant a whole lotta surprisingly hoochie mamas grinding against their frattish dates' pelvises (hot, but weird!) and the cream of our post-electroclash scene. Read more »