SUPER EGO Anyone who's gone to grab my ass and resurfaced 20 minutes later with a handful of vintage Safeway plastic bags and several torn free condom wrappers holding pre-chewed wads of Gonzo Grape Bubblicious knows I'm not really into "bling," as the kids these days say in 1997. Who needs $525 Alejandro Ingelmo gold-trimmed "Tron" sneakers when you can just wear discarded DSW boxes! Cheap and proud lady right here.Read more »
SUPER EGO You'd figure that after 10 successful years and a franchise that rings the globe, including regular stops in São Paolo, Shanghai, Dublin, and Dubai, your party would at some point become an empty parody of itself, flailing through the same frantic motions, like a mime in a blender. But what if your club were based on a type of dance music — mashups — that was a kind of parody to begin with? And what if you focused your seemingly endless energy toward keeping San Francisco freakiness and anarchic fun at the fore?Read more »
SUPER EGO A "yacht" sounds like something I spit up after huffing too much Air Wick Crisp Linen Room Freshener, but apparently it's that boat from the Duran Duran "Rio" video? And America's Cup isn't a Simon Cowell-produced fantasy half-naked athletic protectivewear "talent" contest? Harumph. Well, at least we get a party out of it. In all the boat-race branding hysteria, the people at PUMA are pulling together two months of neato, free, and yuppie-free lineups of daytime and evening parties at its America's Cup PUMA Yard temporary space at Pier 27. Read more »
Last May I "blew through" the huge International Mr. Leather Competition gathering in Chicago and, after I'd cleaned up a bit, had the pleasure of visiting one of the coolest Boystown spots, Wang's, a tiny, fog-filled opium den of a gay bar which, back then at least (it's since seen some upscale hetero incursion) was the place to be, at least if you were looking to somewhat escape the macho IML scene and get down to some sweet, sweet music.
One of the things that made Wang's pop for me was the totally hot guy at the door. "Oh he's from Banjee Report," DJ P-Play told me as we entered. "They're pretty much going to rule the queer hip-hop world in a couple years." Oh, hi there!
Up Your Alley Fair, happening this Sun/28, is the scruffier, cruisier, gayer (yes, it's possible) version of Folsom Street Fair. It has a wonderful history, but will forever be known to a certain generation, ahem, as Dore Alley Fair -- as it was known in the '90s, before it expanded into the several-block to-do it is today.
It also, of late, has attracted a filthy halo of fun parties. Besides the huge, official Bay of Pigs fundraiser party on Sat/27 (usually just a mite too shirtless and circuit music-y for me, but hey, whatever floats your rimseat!) here are some tasty-nasty treats for your "manly" perusal.
So this week the Internet laughed at the Bronies, or rather at a devilishly edited video of a Bronycon rave somewhere, probably, in the upper Midwest. I admit I laughed and laughed -- it is impossible not to break down when the guy implores everyone to come to "Brony-Can, Canada's premiere My Little Pony convention" -- but not so much out of mean-spiritedness, at least in my own estimation.
The minimal synth movement -- which revives obscure (and launches new) careers in the Cold Wave, analogue electronic DIY synthesizer sound of the early '80s -- has been going strong since it first hit the Internet radio and underground club scene nearly a decade ago. While SF no longer has a night really dedicated to the sounds of such overlooked yet amazing acts like Ausgang Verboten, Esplendor Geometrico, Eleven Pond, Xex, and Zwischenfall, we've managed to work tunes from their ilk onto the rosters of regular parties like OK Hole, Haceteria, Dark Room, and more.
Best of all for SF, we have DJ Josh Cheon's Dark Entries Records, leading the way with reissues and new works that beckon that chilly underground feeling of yore. Seriously, spend a minute browsing the catalogue and you're sure to be intrigued.
And now it's time for a minimal mini-fest, huzzah.
SUPER EGO One of the best yet worst-kept secrets of the plastic fantastic SF underground has been Vinyl Dreams, a pop-up record shop in DJ Mike Bee's living room. It's been a must for visiting headliner DJs — and those of us who get all giddy at the mere flash of a fresh vinyl platter gingerly unsleeved in a private space. I've long yearned to write about this parlor of grooved delights, where Mike Bee would happily try to get his hands on any underground tune one desired. But a girl must have her secrets. And I'm not one to gossip!Read more »
Many of us barely remember growing up there, meeting our first hot papi, trying out our first cha cha heels on stage, and living the Selena dream. And some of us go back every week to relive those experiences! Now, that many-mirrored treasure trove of characters, Esta Noche, may have to close its doors -- forever.