Rich Morel, of Blow Off fame, brought Hot Sauce to Grand Central in Baltimore last night, and I had one of my best nights on the dance floor in a very long while, with swollen knees to attest to that fact this morning. Morel played a high-energy set of electro-inflected dance music that included some great sing-along opportunities with remixes of tracks like Oasis' "Wonder Wall" and Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus," along with plenty of the typical four-on-the-floor tracks you'd hear at any good dance party. At one point I found myself thinking back to my first gay clubbing experiences in the mid-80s at places like the now-defunct Traxx in DC, where synth pop met Hi-NRG and there were always plenty of hands in the air. That was the case at Hot Sauce as well, by 11.30 the dancefloor was jumpin' and jivin,' and when I left a little after 1AM there was still enough of a crowd to ensure it would keep going until last call.
Given that the logo for the Hot Sauce party is a cowboy riding a bucking bear, you might have some idea of what to expect from the crowd, and sure enough, it was predominately older, large of size, and ample of body and facial hair. By midnight there was some greater diversity to the crowd, and I even ran into a lesbian of my acquaintance, Pam, who, like me, was looking more for an opportunity to dance on a Saturday night than anything else. Still, as a guy who would have been considered a twink until I started going gray and blind, and remains pretty small and possessed of about the same amount of body hair as I had when I was 16, I had a hard time figuring out how to relate to this scene. I certainly enjoyed Morel's set, but for all the other considerations of why I might go out to a gay dance night, I might as well have been invisible. I even had a slight moment of hesitation when I took off my shirt on the dancefloor; plenty of other guys had already done it, and there was a lot of tactile admiration of Buddha bellies and pelts going on as a result, but I actually had a moment of wondering "Is this okay?" I have, in the past, heard some rather unkind remarks about twinks issuing from the muzzles of bears, and I wondered whether taking my shirt off in this club, with this crowd, would be taken as provocation, or, even worse, would mark me out as a target for scorn because I don't fit into this particular scene's image of masculinity. I thought about this for a second and then decided well, if anybody has a problem with it, fuck them, I came to dance, and I would hope that my obvious enthusiasm for the music and the energy of the party would be of greater importance than the accidents of genetics that made me the way I am.
I admit that I continue to struggle with the whole idea of a "bear movement" and with bears as a separate subculture of the gay scene. I understand where that subculture comes from, and I'm generally sympathetic to attempts to create alternatives to hegemonic mainstream culture of any type, gay or straight. I also cannot fault anyone for their attractions, and if bears aren't attracted to me, that's okay, because I'm not particularly attracted to them (though I have noticed that it has become increasingly "incorrect" in larger gay culture to admit that you're attracted to twinks, or nelly guys, or anything that isn't in keeping with a fairly conservative notion of masculinity). But it does bug me that, like so much of mainsteam straight culture, gay culture forms itself around body types, and those body types are taken to be the signifiers of a shared set of values. This, in the end, can make the most revolutionary movement just another exercise in conformity, and enforces separatism at the level of phenotype when the real shared values exist at a much deeper level. I have always believed that the dance scene has the ability to bring people together through a shared physical and emotional experience, and that a good DJ, like Rich Morel, knows how to create that experience. I was happy last night to share the dancefloor with big guys bumpin' bellies, two geeky Asian boys dancing together, a very drunk Latino exotic dancer, at least one drag queen, and my lesbian friend Pam. I can only wish that that the intention had been to create that shared experience for the diversity of people I saw there, rather than one exclusive group.
Showing posts with label Baltimore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Baltimore. Show all posts
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Event Review: Proper at Dionysus (Baltimore)
Last night was the first taste of Spring we've had in Baltimore after a looooong, cold winter, and there was a clearly festive spirit in the air as I wandered around Mt. Vernon. After seeing Jacques Tatti's The Illusionist at The Charles (a film very much in the spirit of Jean Renoir), I ambled over to Dionysus to have a beer and discovered that a DJ night, Proper, was shortly getting underway in the upstairs bar. I had a couple beers downstairs while things warmed up, and then proceeded through the secret door to discover a very "proper" house night indeed, one that had a very lively, and friendly, underground vibe.
When I first sat down at the bar there was a conversation underway about the origins of rap, sparked by the passing of Nate Dogg earlier this week, that was straight out of High Fidelity. I wound up talking with the bartender for a bit, as well as the fellow sitting next to me who told me his girl had just left him, and that he once had been addicted to crack, but now had cleaned things up and owned two restaurants. A tattoo of barbed wire strands wrapped around his left forearm, and I think (I can't be sure because it was dark and the brim of a cap was pulled down low on his forehead) he was wearing something sparkly at the corners of his eyes. I turned him on to Strongbow Cider and we commiserated about broken hearts and making music. Clearly, Proper attracts an interesting crowd, and I saw everything from blissed out hipster kids to girls in cocktail dresses. While standing on the edge of the dancefloor a guy asked me "what do you think of this?" and I said "It's great, no douchebags." Really, what more do I need to say?
The tunes were on the pop side early in the evening, when I heard the likes of Michael Jackson and Radiohead remixes, before it settled into nice smooth flow of house (of course, it helps to keep the flanger on in smoothing out those mixes) that was moving people out onto the dancefloor. I left around midnight, as I'd had my fill of beer and was looking forward to other weekend activities, but I will definitely be back to check this scene out properly.
When I first sat down at the bar there was a conversation underway about the origins of rap, sparked by the passing of Nate Dogg earlier this week, that was straight out of High Fidelity. I wound up talking with the bartender for a bit, as well as the fellow sitting next to me who told me his girl had just left him, and that he once had been addicted to crack, but now had cleaned things up and owned two restaurants. A tattoo of barbed wire strands wrapped around his left forearm, and I think (I can't be sure because it was dark and the brim of a cap was pulled down low on his forehead) he was wearing something sparkly at the corners of his eyes. I turned him on to Strongbow Cider and we commiserated about broken hearts and making music. Clearly, Proper attracts an interesting crowd, and I saw everything from blissed out hipster kids to girls in cocktail dresses. While standing on the edge of the dancefloor a guy asked me "what do you think of this?" and I said "It's great, no douchebags." Really, what more do I need to say?
The tunes were on the pop side early in the evening, when I heard the likes of Michael Jackson and Radiohead remixes, before it settled into nice smooth flow of house (of course, it helps to keep the flanger on in smoothing out those mixes) that was moving people out onto the dancefloor. I left around midnight, as I'd had my fill of beer and was looking forward to other weekend activities, but I will definitely be back to check this scene out properly.
Friday, March 18, 2011
The Early Days of Baltimore Club
On WYPR's "Maryland Morning" show this past Wednesday there was an interview with one of the early Baltimore Club DJs, DJ Equalizer, about the scene back in the early to mid-90s, when it seem that things were really hopping. What I found most interesting was Equalizer's statement that, when he left the city for about five years, starting in 1995, and came back, everything was gone. I've heard this from a lot of people I've talked to about the dance scene in Bmore, that through the mid-to-late 90s there was a very strong house/club music presence, but then it all suddenly dried up. I've not heard a good explanation of why this happened, though I suspect it may have something to do with how much population this city has lost since the mid-90s, as well as shifting demographics and population centers within the city. I've also yet to hear any "Baltimore Club" in a club, mostly it's the same dance pop I'd hear anywhere else, but maybe I'm just not going to the right places or nights.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Bar Review: Dionysus (Baltimore)
Dionysus, on Preston Street just off Charles in Baltimore, is hands-down my favorite Baltimore bar. Situated three blocks from my apartment, I stroll down there once a week or so to hang out and have a beer, sometimes have some dinner or a snack from their terrific and ever-changing menu, and to have some social time in a space that's full of lively people but is still laid back enough that it's easy to have conversation with the bartenders, other patrons, or whoever has joined me out for that evening.
In my neighborhood, Mt. Vernon, there are four main options for beer and food: the Mt. Vernon stable, which has the standard fare of ribs and deep-fryer food; City Cafe, which caters to the upscale dress-in-black crowd and charges a dollar more per drink than anyplace else in the neighborhood; Brewer's Art, which has good food and their own Belgian-style ales, and is, on Sundays, a veritable Bear den; and Dionysus. What sets Dionysus above all these establishments, including the more "upscale" Brewer's Art and City Cafe, is a great craft beer selection, both draft and bottle, and a cajun-influenced menu of substantial food like a cajun pork chop with greens and cheesy grits, all of which can be had for substantially less than what you'd pay at their competitors. A beer and an entree: twenty bucks. At Brewer's Art or City Cafe, you'd pay about ten dollars more for food and beverage of exactly the same quality, and you'd have to put up with a lot more noise, crowd, and attitude as well. And then there's the reverse happy hour at 10PM. (If you don't trust me on the food, the Baltimore Sun recently gave "Chef" one of the best reviews I've read for a downtown Baltimore restaurant in a while).
I've always had interesting and entertaining experiences at Dionysus. The music ranges from The Doors to the Pogues, and is loud enough where you can sing along if you feel so inclined and not embarrass yourself, but is still kept in that range where you can sit at the bar and have a conversation in normal tones. At that bar I've had conversations with the bartender Gina, who addresses her customers as "Love," and local "characters" like the very garralous technical director of a local theater company (who I couldn't tell if he was hitting on me or not). In summer, there's an interesting mix of hipsters/artists/street corner philosophers at the outdoor tables. The crowd is younger, and I suspect that some of them are students of Peabody and MICA who don't feel like making the trek to the Mt. Royal Tavern. I also like that it's a space that's well-lit enough that you can sit at the bar and read or write, but atmospheric enough that, after a couple beers, you might think you look more attractive in the mirror behind the bar than you really are.
For a while I was very into the dark, beer kellner space of Brewer's Art, but eventually I felt that, unless you went there with somebody, it's kind of boring because you can't read or write, and the crowd is not particularly social. Dionysus feels more like the neighborhood pub where they really care about food and drink, where you can go to contemplate, and where you can often find yourself in the midst of an unexpected but pleasant interaction with the other patrons. Go check it out for yourself; it's not posh, it's not particularly hip, but it satisfies everything I want from my local pub, and does it in a way that means I leave with more of a smile than I entered with.
In my neighborhood, Mt. Vernon, there are four main options for beer and food: the Mt. Vernon stable, which has the standard fare of ribs and deep-fryer food; City Cafe, which caters to the upscale dress-in-black crowd and charges a dollar more per drink than anyplace else in the neighborhood; Brewer's Art, which has good food and their own Belgian-style ales, and is, on Sundays, a veritable Bear den; and Dionysus. What sets Dionysus above all these establishments, including the more "upscale" Brewer's Art and City Cafe, is a great craft beer selection, both draft and bottle, and a cajun-influenced menu of substantial food like a cajun pork chop with greens and cheesy grits, all of which can be had for substantially less than what you'd pay at their competitors. A beer and an entree: twenty bucks. At Brewer's Art or City Cafe, you'd pay about ten dollars more for food and beverage of exactly the same quality, and you'd have to put up with a lot more noise, crowd, and attitude as well. And then there's the reverse happy hour at 10PM. (If you don't trust me on the food, the Baltimore Sun recently gave "Chef" one of the best reviews I've read for a downtown Baltimore restaurant in a while).
I've always had interesting and entertaining experiences at Dionysus. The music ranges from The Doors to the Pogues, and is loud enough where you can sing along if you feel so inclined and not embarrass yourself, but is still kept in that range where you can sit at the bar and have a conversation in normal tones. At that bar I've had conversations with the bartender Gina, who addresses her customers as "Love," and local "characters" like the very garralous technical director of a local theater company (who I couldn't tell if he was hitting on me or not). In summer, there's an interesting mix of hipsters/artists/street corner philosophers at the outdoor tables. The crowd is younger, and I suspect that some of them are students of Peabody and MICA who don't feel like making the trek to the Mt. Royal Tavern. I also like that it's a space that's well-lit enough that you can sit at the bar and read or write, but atmospheric enough that, after a couple beers, you might think you look more attractive in the mirror behind the bar than you really are.
For a while I was very into the dark, beer kellner space of Brewer's Art, but eventually I felt that, unless you went there with somebody, it's kind of boring because you can't read or write, and the crowd is not particularly social. Dionysus feels more like the neighborhood pub where they really care about food and drink, where you can go to contemplate, and where you can often find yourself in the midst of an unexpected but pleasant interaction with the other patrons. Go check it out for yourself; it's not posh, it's not particularly hip, but it satisfies everything I want from my local pub, and does it in a way that means I leave with more of a smile than I entered with.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Event Review: Elektroschock at Grand Central (Baltimore)
This was one of those weekends when none of my social plans managed to come together; my Friday night bootie call got sick, and I wasn't able to get in touch with the guys who I wanted to have over for a movie night on Saturday evening until Sunday afternoon. So, faced with the prospect of another night holed up in the apartment playing video games (Fallout: New Vegas, if you really want to know), I decided to check out Elektroschock, a goth/industrial night at Grand Central, the "disco" that's about a half block from my apartment in Baltimore. It was fun to get in touch with my industrial roots once again, and the $2.50 Jack and cokes until 11 AM put me in a convivial mood, but, like many nights out I've had in Baltimore, Elektroschock felt more like I was sneaking into someone's private party, full of their friends, than going out to a club.
The disco at Grand Central is a good space, with a horseshoe-shaped main bar, and a spacious dancefloor with another bar in the back (though for this party it remained unstaffed). The intelligent lighting system threw biohazard symbols around on the floor and walls, but the overall space was suitably dark - it would have been nice to have had some visuals on the flatscreen that hovered above the back of the main bar, but this crowd was more interested in socializing than watching a TV, something that should commend the night as already being an improvement over the typical sports-on-TV experience of most Baltimore bars. I can't quite figure out how Grand Central competes against "the" Baltimore gay dance space, The Hippo, which is on the opposite corner of Charles Street, but I think it's because it presents a more intimate, and honestly comfortable, space than the Hippo, despite the latter's far more elaborate sound and light system. There's no sitting at the bar in the Hippo dance space, and a crowd this size, probably no more than a hundred or so at the peak, would seem rather sparse in the Hippo. Overall Grand Central presents a much better space for a small crowd, most of whom seemed to already be on a first-name basis with each other, to just hang out and make an occasional move toward the dancefloor.
It's been a long time, probably a decade, since I've been to an industrial night, though I was seriously involved with that scene in Atlanta in the 90s. I was so involved, in fact, that I got a bit tired of the scene, and what seemed like an endless rehash of the same tracks over and over again. One of the best things about Elektroschock was that I couldn't name a single track that played in the two hours or so that I was there. The DJ was taking requests, which resulted in some odd juxtapositions, and it was easy enough to recognize the genre markers in various tracks - heavy stomp beats perfect for clomping around the dancefloor in combat boots, wistful lyrics sung in German backed by shimmering synth pop for twirling around in a skirt - but what really struck me was the was the heavy influence of trance, from the tempo of the tracks to swirling arpeggation to lyrics like "A-B-C, D-M-T, M-D-A." It made for a much more European sound than what I had expected, having always associated industrial with guitar-driven bands like Ministry and even KMFDM. Clearly the current crop of industrial producers have been spending some time listening, and probably dancing, to influences from other electronic genres. In talking to one local industrial kid this past week I was surprised to hear him name Juno Reactor as a band he was really into, so now my curiousity is piqued to hear more of what's being produced in the industrial scene these days. (You can check out setlists from previous nights by hitting the link above.)
When I used to go out a-gothing in Atlanta, it was to a club night, Pandora's Box, where I knew the promoter and almost everyone else who showed up. It was small, tight (some might say incestuous) scene, and it was more like our weekly social get together than a club night. Much the same vibe prevailed at Elektroschock; I briefly talked with a guy who had just moved here from Philadelphia who wanted to know about other nights, so I steered him toward The Depot, but, so far as I know, Elektroschock is the only regular goth/industrial night in Baltimore, and I got the sense that the folks who showed up are much like that group I knew in Atlanta - there were lots of excited greetings as people made their way into the club, and lots of clustering in groups around the bar and to the side of the dancefloor. Everyone seemed friendly enough, and if I had been feeling more outgoing I might have made some further conversation, but, like most of my experiences in going out in Baltimore, I couldn't get over the feeling that I was crashing someone's private party full of their friends. I did enjoy the many variations in industrial fashion and watching the dancefloor, and even found myself nodding along to the beat, though I never felt it really move down into my feet. I don't stomp so much as shuffle these days, to be honest.
Elektroschock happens on the first, third, and fifth Saturdays of the month at Grand Central, and, at $6, the cover seems a little heavy to me, but between 9 and 11PM all drinks are $2.50. If you're into dressing in black and raging against the machine every now and then, then it's a great Saturday night destination.
The disco at Grand Central is a good space, with a horseshoe-shaped main bar, and a spacious dancefloor with another bar in the back (though for this party it remained unstaffed). The intelligent lighting system threw biohazard symbols around on the floor and walls, but the overall space was suitably dark - it would have been nice to have had some visuals on the flatscreen that hovered above the back of the main bar, but this crowd was more interested in socializing than watching a TV, something that should commend the night as already being an improvement over the typical sports-on-TV experience of most Baltimore bars. I can't quite figure out how Grand Central competes against "the" Baltimore gay dance space, The Hippo, which is on the opposite corner of Charles Street, but I think it's because it presents a more intimate, and honestly comfortable, space than the Hippo, despite the latter's far more elaborate sound and light system. There's no sitting at the bar in the Hippo dance space, and a crowd this size, probably no more than a hundred or so at the peak, would seem rather sparse in the Hippo. Overall Grand Central presents a much better space for a small crowd, most of whom seemed to already be on a first-name basis with each other, to just hang out and make an occasional move toward the dancefloor.
It's been a long time, probably a decade, since I've been to an industrial night, though I was seriously involved with that scene in Atlanta in the 90s. I was so involved, in fact, that I got a bit tired of the scene, and what seemed like an endless rehash of the same tracks over and over again. One of the best things about Elektroschock was that I couldn't name a single track that played in the two hours or so that I was there. The DJ was taking requests, which resulted in some odd juxtapositions, and it was easy enough to recognize the genre markers in various tracks - heavy stomp beats perfect for clomping around the dancefloor in combat boots, wistful lyrics sung in German backed by shimmering synth pop for twirling around in a skirt - but what really struck me was the was the heavy influence of trance, from the tempo of the tracks to swirling arpeggation to lyrics like "A-B-C, D-M-T, M-D-A." It made for a much more European sound than what I had expected, having always associated industrial with guitar-driven bands like Ministry and even KMFDM. Clearly the current crop of industrial producers have been spending some time listening, and probably dancing, to influences from other electronic genres. In talking to one local industrial kid this past week I was surprised to hear him name Juno Reactor as a band he was really into, so now my curiousity is piqued to hear more of what's being produced in the industrial scene these days. (You can check out setlists from previous nights by hitting the link above.)
When I used to go out a-gothing in Atlanta, it was to a club night, Pandora's Box, where I knew the promoter and almost everyone else who showed up. It was small, tight (some might say incestuous) scene, and it was more like our weekly social get together than a club night. Much the same vibe prevailed at Elektroschock; I briefly talked with a guy who had just moved here from Philadelphia who wanted to know about other nights, so I steered him toward The Depot, but, so far as I know, Elektroschock is the only regular goth/industrial night in Baltimore, and I got the sense that the folks who showed up are much like that group I knew in Atlanta - there were lots of excited greetings as people made their way into the club, and lots of clustering in groups around the bar and to the side of the dancefloor. Everyone seemed friendly enough, and if I had been feeling more outgoing I might have made some further conversation, but, like most of my experiences in going out in Baltimore, I couldn't get over the feeling that I was crashing someone's private party full of their friends. I did enjoy the many variations in industrial fashion and watching the dancefloor, and even found myself nodding along to the beat, though I never felt it really move down into my feet. I don't stomp so much as shuffle these days, to be honest.
Elektroschock happens on the first, third, and fifth Saturdays of the month at Grand Central, and, at $6, the cover seems a little heavy to me, but between 9 and 11PM all drinks are $2.50. If you're into dressing in black and raging against the machine every now and then, then it's a great Saturday night destination.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Hey Bitches, I'm Back!
Okay, well, I'm not back *in* San Francisco just yet, but yeah, this summer, look for the return of the Jaded Gay DJ and SFScene. After a year and a half in Baltimore, and lots of personal upheaval (for example, the Boyfriend is now the Ex), I've decided to make the "bold" (as one of my colleagues put, it though "foolish" might be the better adjective) move of resigning a tenure-track job to come back to Sodom by the Bay for - well, I'm not sure yet, but I'm looking forward to the chance to find out.
Why, you might ask, would I do such a thing? Because on New Year's Day in San Francisco, in the middle of the dancefloor at Cafe Cocomo for the Stompy/Sunset party, dancing for the first time in months, hanging out with my friends, I realized that San Francisco is home, and no job, no matter how long one has worked to obtain it, is worth it if it takes you to place where all you feel when you're not working is boredom and loneliness. There are people who really dig Baltimore, and some who I expect thrive here, but it's not for me - weighed against the sensibility of staying in a stable job where, in three years, I'll have tenure, there is the fact that this is the first place I've ever lived where I considered going on anti-depressants. I can see the path before me in Baltimore pretty well, and I've seen where it's lead some of my colleagues, which is into a secure, stable, isolated, bitter existence. It's also clear to me that if I ever want a real opportunity to fall in love again, rather than just hoping that some accident of fate will bring it my way by means of Manhunt, I need to be in a place where I can meet and get to know the kinds of guys I want to have a relationship with.
There is plan, which brings me to San Francisco in July, and a place to stay for a couple months while I get on my feet, and for income there are some ideas but nothing dependable yet. SFScene will definitely be back, and I'm hoping it will appear under a sponsorship that will not ony increase the readership, but maybe pay for some nights out as well. I'm also hoping to channel a little more Michael Musto and a bit less Lester Bangs in my reportage. Meanwhile, keep watching this space for reports on the Baltimore scene (such as it is), and continuing episodes in The Return of the Jaded Gay DJ.
Why, you might ask, would I do such a thing? Because on New Year's Day in San Francisco, in the middle of the dancefloor at Cafe Cocomo for the Stompy/Sunset party, dancing for the first time in months, hanging out with my friends, I realized that San Francisco is home, and no job, no matter how long one has worked to obtain it, is worth it if it takes you to place where all you feel when you're not working is boredom and loneliness. There are people who really dig Baltimore, and some who I expect thrive here, but it's not for me - weighed against the sensibility of staying in a stable job where, in three years, I'll have tenure, there is the fact that this is the first place I've ever lived where I considered going on anti-depressants. I can see the path before me in Baltimore pretty well, and I've seen where it's lead some of my colleagues, which is into a secure, stable, isolated, bitter existence. It's also clear to me that if I ever want a real opportunity to fall in love again, rather than just hoping that some accident of fate will bring it my way by means of Manhunt, I need to be in a place where I can meet and get to know the kinds of guys I want to have a relationship with.
There is plan, which brings me to San Francisco in July, and a place to stay for a couple months while I get on my feet, and for income there are some ideas but nothing dependable yet. SFScene will definitely be back, and I'm hoping it will appear under a sponsorship that will not ony increase the readership, but maybe pay for some nights out as well. I'm also hoping to channel a little more Michael Musto and a bit less Lester Bangs in my reportage. Meanwhile, keep watching this space for reports on the Baltimore scene (such as it is), and continuing episodes in The Return of the Jaded Gay DJ.
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