Event Review: Mass at 1015

And now, a guest review from SFScene pal and special field correspondant Kitty:

Let's just get one thing out of the way. How long has 1015 had the monopoly on big club parties in SF? Quite a few years now. So why is it that 1015 acts like they just opened last week?

Why am I there (even though I do now and always have hated this particular club)? Because it's New Year's day and DJ Phil B is having Mass for the first time in years. Back at the cusp of the new millennium (when we still had some hope for the future), Mass was the Sunday evening t-dance that provided the perfect progressive house ending to a weekend of big gay parties. Big music. Big lights. Big fun.

This party at this place has special meaning for me. It's the scene of one of my few transcendent experiences in the gay party scene. Those moments of joy and connection when the people/place/music burn themselves into your brain. You know... that Zen singularity that we all spend our time, money and brain cells trying (and often failing) to achieve.

I've grown up enough to know that I can't get that experience back again. But I'll definitely pay $20 for the chance at getting groovy on New Year's Day. And I was willing to bet that there were plenty of other guys thinking the same thing.

Ticket in hand, I arrived at 1015 at 6:30 pm. That's when the complete ineptitude of the club's door personnel smacked me in the face. There were two lines to get in, but the majority of patrons were forced to wait in a line that snaked around three sides of the building. Why? The second line was only for those possessing a shiny, Wonka-like golden VIP ticket.

Needless to say, those of us who had purchased regular tickets before the party were pissed about standing in the wet cold for up to 20 minutes or more. My only source of amusement during that wait was watching other partygoers arrive and scramble dejectedly for a place in the ever-increasing line. Sometimes schadenfreude is my only joy.

Poor planning created the misery of a line, but douche-baggery was salt-in-the-wound. The lone security dude checking IDs insisted on asking each guest how their evening was going. He would not be satisfied by a tepid "fine" or "good" from cold, trembling patrons in tight t-shirts. In fact, if such bland vocabulary was used, he pulled the yearning patron out of line until they could come up with something more creative. I pitied those frozen souls with poor verbal education.

When my time came, I held back the scathing reply that had been boiling inside of me for the past 10 minutes. It had accumulated variously heated particles of speech over that time until becoming a mass of molten anger. And I really did want to say it to him. Oh how I yearned for it. But my voice of reason firmly insisted this would not be the way to gain quick entry to the club. So I piped out a half-hearted "fan-fucking-tastic" and was on my way.

Next step in the process is checking my coat. In other words, waiting in another pointlessly long line. But I did have the opportunity to observe a scene that made my night. A loud, braying queen standing behind me called out to his fag-hag that "there are children!" Sure enough, a shockingly respectable family was coming out of the downstairs bar.

After he made a spectacle of himself trashing the harmless straights, the family picked their way up the crowded staircase led by a darkly handsome guy, his arms protectively draped around two young girls. As they passed the shade-throwing sister, a voice called from the crowd, "Gus! I didn't know you had kids!?"

The man with the girls (now revealed to be Gus of Guspresents, the promoter of this party) shouted back, "Ha! These are my nieces. Today was my birthday!"

As a loud mouthed fag who regularly puts his foot in it, I felt really bad for that big-mouthed queen in line behind me. (But maybe not that badly.)

The party itself got off to a fun, energetic, and friendly start. The Gus's nieces danced and got onstage with the flaggers. Every gay man that they passed was smitten with them.

After a few drinks I was in a good mood and dancing on the edges of a packed floor. Even at that distance, the heat of the shirtless, sweating crowd made my skin flush and tingle. Phil B began his 6-hour set with some standard gay house shakers. Good stuff, but not particularly inspiring. Particularly the full-on diva house cover of Pink's "Better Get This Party Started."

But with each song, Phil B brought up the tempo. And as the beats picked up, the songs got harder. Somewhere about halfway through the evening, he's spinning progressive house so powerful it's bordering on Trance. Just what I like.

After another hour or so of moving on the floor, around the floor and through the floor I just couldn't move any more. The club was now completely filled with boys and girls, men and women having a great time. I love that feeling of euphoria that comes from almost everyone I pass. Bit I am also very tired of tripping over and stepping on people.

Billed as a "Reunion" dance, strangely I did not see anyone I had known from those days of going to Mass. But I did have a good time without having it torpedoed by the neurotic hang-ups that haunted my back then. Maybe not "fan-fucking-tastic," but still a good time.

Last Minute Going-Away Party for Lemonade Tonight, Friday October 17

It's on the new SFScene calendar too, but here are the details of a going-away party for Tigerbeat recording artists Lemonade tonight:

Lemonade Going-Away Party
103 Harriet Street (1015 Folsom)
FREE
10PM to "late"
with music and DJ sets from Lemonade, Lazer Sword, CLAWS, Ghosts on Tape, Safety Scissors , Saputotime and mor.

Event Review: Ritchie Hawtin at 1015 Folsom

Friday night J, the boyfriend and I braved 1015 Folsom to see Ritchie Hawtin and were rewarded with one of the most fun nights out in a long time, one that reminded me of why it's worth going out to hear big-name DJs do their thing, and also made me think that 1015 is coming back as the club it used to be.

We stopped off at PeePlay's going-away party at the Gray Area Gallery's new AV space on Folsom, had a drink, and generally milled around with the other artsy types looking awkward with drinks in thier hands. CLAWS provided a passable set of downtempo kitsch, followed by Jonas Rheinhardt, a three piece consisting of Moog and sequencers, bass guitar, and basic drum kit in the space prog vein of Stereolab or Fujiyama and Miyagi. It was an okay place to hang out and have a pre-party drink, but if GAG is going to continue to charge $10 for their parties and standard SoMa bar prices for drinks, I'd like something that feels like more than a really cool college party for my money.

We arrived at 1015 around midnight. We had missed Magda's set but caugh the last half of Hearthrob. As we stood in the front bar waiting for drinks I noticed that there was already a lot of dancing going on. Like his labelmates Hearthrob is a disciple of minimal, but there was nothing low-key about the energy.

When I last saw Hawtin at Mighty I complained about the crowd, which struck me as having just come straight to the party from casual Friday drinks with their workmates. This time the crowd was much groovier, and walking through the smoking area I heard at least a half dozen languages and accents. When we finally went down on the floor there was plenty of room to dance, but also plenty of crowd energy to keep us going. It was also nice to see that the Gestapo-like attitude of the security that previously prevailed at 1015 has given way to a much more relaxed approach, such that people seemed to feel that they really could let themselves go for the party and not worry about getting tossed out.

As for Hawtin, all I can say is that it's nice to know that there are DJs who still really care about the music, their performance, and their skill. I haven't see a DJ that focused on what he was doing, or as able to work a crowd, in a long while. Hawtin isn't even so much a DJ as someone who produces new music out of the scraps of other tracks live; we later remarked that his performance seemed very ephemeral, not because it was forgettable, but because he took any recognizable song elements and recombined them so that you had the feeling of being caught up in an irresistible flow of beats rather than listening to someone putting on one track after another.

We left around three as the crowd was beginning to thin but the energy was showing no signs of dissipation. It was easily one of the best nights out we've had in several months, and I hope that some more fun nights at 1015 are ahead of us for the summer.

Upcoming Event: Honey Sound System Presents Dancer from the Dance, Sunday, March 23

This Sunday Honey Sound System will present "Dancer From the Dance: A Recreation" at 103 Harriet Street (yep, that's the downstairs lounge of 1015) from 9PM to 3AM, with special guests Jeffry Sfire (Ghostly International NYC) and Steve Summers (Confused House SF). I had a pretty good time at their last Sunday night disco event back in December, so if you're into a recreation of the poppers-fueled house/disco scene of late 70s New York, you should definitely check it out.

1015 Going Rock!

Well here's a kicker: according to this article in the SFWeekly, 1015 is about to transform into a rock club, complete with a marquee on the outside and a name change. Not a huge surprise, as the only things that have really seemed to do well there lately have been big-name DJ nights, which are generally few and far between; otherwise, much of the club's capacity has gone unused, and many a night I've passed it by when it was just a darkened monolith of concrete. Perhaps by booking in rock acts they will be able to get more use out of that space during the week, and also dispel some of the general bad vibes that have settled upon it. It will definitely be the end of an era, though, as I doubt that they will continue on with the electronic music scene: too many hassles, not enough profit.

Stabbing at 1015 Folsom?

What should my tired eyes behold this morning but news of what seems like yet another "incident" at 1015. According to this article in SF Gate:

The stabbing occurred inside a nightclub in the 1000 block of Folsom Street, police said.

One male reportedly stabbed another male with a knife at around 1 a.m., police said.

I rode by there around 10.30 with J and the boyfriend on our way to Kontrol at The EndUp (about which more later), and there was already a line of B&T/Marina types halfway down the block. Last night was Sense, with two artists from Sense Recordings, and Taj, one of the residents, so I'm guessing it was probably a progessive night.

If you were there or have any info, please share!

Update: More details in this article from the Examiner; looks like a fist-fight got out of control. Fun. According to the Examiner, 1015's liquor license is up for renewal in less than a month; given the issues that the ABC board has had with 1015 in the past, you have to wonder how this incident will be regarded.

Club Review: 1015 Folsom

For those in the club scene there’s a saying: friends don’t let friends go to 1015. Expensive drinks, surly security, and a general thuggish atmosphere have all dragged down what is certainly one of the best-appointed clubs in all of San Francisco.

Back before the club crackdown of 2000 1015 was San Francisco’s major dance venue, but a series of events led to a threat by the police to close the place down. In response the club management installed security cameras and instituted one of the most oppressive security regimes ever – I’ve never been patted down like I was patted down there, complete with thumbs around the inside of my waistband. Going to 1015 was like entering a Federal building, and as a result most of the underground club kids began to shun it. Those who did show up were largely the bridge-and-tunnel crowd, and members of Asian gangs who used it as their own personal clubhouse.

Around 2004 the club hired Lorin Ashton (Bassnectar) as General Manager. Before he broke into breaks Lorin had been a psytrance DJ, and under his management the club began to book in acts like Infected Mushroom. This brought some of the underground kids back into the club, and on that particular night the security consisted of the door guy essentially waving his hands over me. Then, in Feburary of 2005, during a performance by Paul Van Dyk, one of those Asian mobsters decided to settle a score and gunned down his victim in the downstairs dance floor. For that night there had been special VIP entrance that allowed you to go straight in without a pat-down, which meant if you wanted to carry a weapon, all you had to do was pay a little more.

Following that incident the security cracked down again, and though 1015 continues to be one of the few places that can book in the big names, there aren’t many dedicated clubbers who are willing to deal with the club’s overall bad vibes to see them. Fridays seem to be the best nights, with various monthly parties, but all Saturday night parties as of this writing are "strict dress code enforced," which is exactly what I'm into. If you want a night of security goons, overpriced drinks, girls in cocktail dresses, guys in button-up shirts wearing too much cologne, and thugs, then 1015 is the place for you. Otherwise, wait until the same big-name DJ comes to Ruby Skye.