Honey Soundsystem has taken on the rather considerable challenge of presenting a new weekly, on a Sunday, in a new space, but from what I saw this past Sunday, they're as able to meet the challenge as anyone.
The boyfriend and I showed up with our friend Toka just as they opened the doors at 8PM and stayed for a three-drink conversation. Kendig was first up on the decks, and though his set was way too retro disco for my taste (especially after he teased us with some very cool contemporary tech at the beginning and middle of his set), he gave the space a comfortable Sunday evening t-dance vibe. I was more into the set PeePlay laid out after him, since he mixed in more contemporary sounds and made me feel like I was out for a night of grooving and dancing rather than an episode of the gay music history channel. He came on just as the crowd began to arrive around 10PM, and I saw several dancers enthusiastically take to the floor during his set, with the promise of more to come.
Paradise Lounge just recently re-opened, and PeePlay told me that they had originally planned on using the upstairs, rather than downstairs, space. I personally couldn't see anything at all wrong with what they had on the opening night since there was a good-sized dance floor, a cozy space off the dancefloor with banquette seating where you could chill and have a conversation, and lots of little tables and stools in the bar and dance areas where you could perch or have more intimate interactions. Nonetheless, PeePlay assured me that the upstairs space would be even cooler, and I know I'll go back again to check it out. There's not been much to do on Sunday evenings for a while, at least nothing that has the kind of cool alternative flair that Honey Soundsystem brings, so I hope the boys will be able to build Hard Energy into a Sunday evening destination.
Showing posts with label DJ Pee Play. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DJ Pee Play. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Music on the Playa
If there's one definitive thing I can say about music on the playa this year, it's that I've now heard all the James Brown I need to hear for an entire year. Every day, several times a day, I would hear The Godfather testifying from somewhere, and even saw him being towed in effigy around the Esplanade behind a bicycle one day.
The aural omipresence of James Brown was an indication of what seemed like the general musical mood; breaks and big electronic thumps certainly had their place at 10 O'clock and along the Esplanade, but when you got into the small soundsystems the vibe was much more about easygoing party pop 'n' rock. On Thursday night, trying to find my way among various pathways of the mind, the dance party at a camp down Allante made me think I had stumbled back into Drunk and Horny, while during the day I had happened into a Rolling Stones party at the Solar Snow Cone camp.
There were of course plenty of big whoo-whoo parties with electronic music, but distance and the difficulty of getting around on bikes due to the sand traps kept me from really going out to the big dance camps like Opulent Temple. There's something about the scale of those camps, too, that I find a bit off-putting; if being around a thousand fucked-up people at 1015 seems a little much to deal with, try adding a couple thousand more people to the mix. Just think about the amount of dust generated by all those stomping feet.
My best musical moment came on Friday at the Deep End, where Worthy of Dirty Bird fame had the opening set. I had been up for a pretty intense twenty-four hours at that point, and had become even more doggie than usual, but Worthy's set sparked me back to life for a few more hours. After that, though, I was basically done with dancing at Burning Man; I checked into the Honey Sound System party at Comfort and Joy after midnight that night, deemed it too hot and reeking of sweaty faeries for my physical condition, and soon after was passed out in my tent (J, though, later told me that Pee Play laid out a fun set).
I did play a set at Camp Zoom on Wednesday night, but it was Lord Kook who can lay claim to two truly awesome sets, both at Glitter Camp on the Esplanade. On Tuesday, after struggling through a dust storm on Monday and then spending all day Tuesday working on our camp art project, we were ready to party, and so, it seemed, was everyone else there. LK held that space for a solid two hours that night, drawing in lots of wandering gay boys, including Pee Play, who was drawn in by the whoops that went up when LK dropped Lindstrom's "Another Station." LK returned on Wednesday to play a tag-team with Jovino that lasted a full five hours, until both of them were just too exhausted to play another track.
On the Burning Man census this year there was a section to check off the things that brought you to the playa, and one of them was "the music scene." I ticked this off as one of my attractions, but I really think that the version of the Burning Man music scene that I experience here, through Opulent Temple, Space Cowboys, and the host of fundraisers is a lot more interesting for me than what I've encountered on the playa. In many ways, the sound of the playa has become pretty predictable, and the scale of the event makes it both very difficult to find things that are more off the beaten path, and to get to them when you do find them. I know, though, that all these things move in cycles, and just as breaks superseded trance as the sound of the playa, something else new will eventually come along; I just wish it would hurry up and happen already.
The aural omipresence of James Brown was an indication of what seemed like the general musical mood; breaks and big electronic thumps certainly had their place at 10 O'clock and along the Esplanade, but when you got into the small soundsystems the vibe was much more about easygoing party pop 'n' rock. On Thursday night, trying to find my way among various pathways of the mind, the dance party at a camp down Allante made me think I had stumbled back into Drunk and Horny, while during the day I had happened into a Rolling Stones party at the Solar Snow Cone camp.
There were of course plenty of big whoo-whoo parties with electronic music, but distance and the difficulty of getting around on bikes due to the sand traps kept me from really going out to the big dance camps like Opulent Temple. There's something about the scale of those camps, too, that I find a bit off-putting; if being around a thousand fucked-up people at 1015 seems a little much to deal with, try adding a couple thousand more people to the mix. Just think about the amount of dust generated by all those stomping feet.
My best musical moment came on Friday at the Deep End, where Worthy of Dirty Bird fame had the opening set. I had been up for a pretty intense twenty-four hours at that point, and had become even more doggie than usual, but Worthy's set sparked me back to life for a few more hours. After that, though, I was basically done with dancing at Burning Man; I checked into the Honey Sound System party at Comfort and Joy after midnight that night, deemed it too hot and reeking of sweaty faeries for my physical condition, and soon after was passed out in my tent (J, though, later told me that Pee Play laid out a fun set).
I did play a set at Camp Zoom on Wednesday night, but it was Lord Kook who can lay claim to two truly awesome sets, both at Glitter Camp on the Esplanade. On Tuesday, after struggling through a dust storm on Monday and then spending all day Tuesday working on our camp art project, we were ready to party, and so, it seemed, was everyone else there. LK held that space for a solid two hours that night, drawing in lots of wandering gay boys, including Pee Play, who was drawn in by the whoops that went up when LK dropped Lindstrom's "Another Station." LK returned on Wednesday to play a tag-team with Jovino that lasted a full five hours, until both of them were just too exhausted to play another track.
On the Burning Man census this year there was a section to check off the things that brought you to the playa, and one of them was "the music scene." I ticked this off as one of my attractions, but I really think that the version of the Burning Man music scene that I experience here, through Opulent Temple, Space Cowboys, and the host of fundraisers is a lot more interesting for me than what I've encountered on the playa. In many ways, the sound of the playa has become pretty predictable, and the scale of the event makes it both very difficult to find things that are more off the beaten path, and to get to them when you do find them. I know, though, that all these things move in cycles, and just as breaks superseded trance as the sound of the playa, something else new will eventually come along; I just wish it would hurry up and happen already.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Peeplay's Big Adventure
Some of you may already be aware that our local DJ-about-town, Peeplay, is on a big European adventure from London to Rome to Berlin and then back to DJ with Horsemeat Disco at the Glastonbury Festival (yes, I know, if he wasn't such a nice guy I'd totally hate him for being so fabulous). For anyone who would like to follow his adventures (which so far includes Gay Bingo in London, playing for a massive crowd of Roman freaks, having the lovely experience of dealing with the Italian transportation system, and having the "dirtiest sex of my life in a backroom" in Berlin) he is chronicling them all on the Homochic blog. I just hope that once he's been to Berlin he'll still want to come back - lord knows, when I lived there in 1996 I sure didn't want to.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
"Is Vinyl Dead?"
Last night my friend J posed that question and I found myself with a split opinion; on the one hand the vinyl DJ in me thought "of course not," while the guy who had just bought a pair of Pioneer CDJ-800s thought "well, maybe not dead, but looking pretty pale."
I bought the CD players after several years of being a vinyl-only DJ because I realized that the economics of DJing have changed considerably over the past few years, and there was no way I could keep up with current music otherwise. While I was able to obtain maybe ten tracks a month at a cost of $11 each, the boyfriend was going up to music blogs, using Bit Torrent, and buying tracks from Beatport at a range of $1.99 to $2.49 each. When he had a gig coming up he could put together a huge collection of almost completely fresh tracks for far less than the five or six new tracks I would buy for the same sort of occasion. The final straw, though, came when the only record store in town that reliably stocked the music I was into AND provided listening stations, BPM Records, went out of business. I can still rifle the minimal bins at Amoeba, but without any way of previewing tracks before I buy them, I'm essentially betting money that my admittedly limited knowledge of artists and labels will help me pick consistent winners. Past experience has demonstrated that this is patently not the case.
As a mobile DJ who has schlepped gear for numerous events over the years I was also drawn to the convenience of CD players over turntables; for me the turntable is still the preferred instrument, but there's no denying that CD players are lighter to lug and far more forgiving of difficult conditions. Years ago, before my conversion to the dark shiny stuff, I was at an outdoor where a friend was playing records and began to have problems because of the heavy fog that had come in and was leaving drops of moisture on everything, including his records. I teased him about it, saying that CD players were far superior for adverse environmental conditions, even though years later I would be trying to protect my tonearms from being blown off track by gusts of wind coming off the playa. Ever since I began having to bring my own turntables to parties I have been aware of just how much space they take up, how heavy they are, and how tempermental they can be under the influnce of, say, a hundred people bouncing up and down on a wooden floor.
Of course, the convenience, in terms of music acquisition, afforded by digital tracks has some drawbacks as well. I'm indebted to Pee Play for introducing me to the term "blog house," the sort of music that proliferates through blogs like missingtoof.com, bigstereo.com, hypemachine.com, and others, that, while it might be of dubious quality, still becomes immensely popular because of the fact that people download it and play it. And, as I have discovered for myself, while the Top 100 charts of Beatport provide an easy way to scope out what's getting people's attention, it also engenders a degree of homogeneity among those same people. It's easy enough to find ways to obtain digital music, but I still think there's something about the process of crate digging at your favorite record store that yields a more individualistic set. Also, being able to hear an entire track, or at least the breakdown and return, is so much nicer than having to suss out the entire vibe of a track from a three-minute selection.
And, as far as playback devices go, while the CD player may offer a number of advantages in regard to space, weight, and environmental conditions, you have to remember that, in terms of functionality, the whole point of technological advances with CD players is to make them "play" more like turntables. There are some functional aspects of the CD player that I really like; instant cue return is great, being able to set a consistent "platter speed" eliminates the problems you have with records that are of different weight, and once you set the tempo, they'll steady as a rock; but, when it comes time to true up the beat-matching between two tracks, I have yet to find the combination of settings that give me the same level of haptic feedback and control as turntables.
I don't think vinyl is dead, but digital music is certainly forcing its adherents to consider the basis of their loyalty. As for me, I've still got the turntables set up in the bedroom, and I will still use them when I'm practicing at home or recording as set; but when it comes to time to play out I'l l probably only be carrying a book of CDs, and you can bet that the tracks I've recorded from vinyl will be well-outnumbered by those that I've obtained via download.
I bought the CD players after several years of being a vinyl-only DJ because I realized that the economics of DJing have changed considerably over the past few years, and there was no way I could keep up with current music otherwise. While I was able to obtain maybe ten tracks a month at a cost of $11 each, the boyfriend was going up to music blogs, using Bit Torrent, and buying tracks from Beatport at a range of $1.99 to $2.49 each. When he had a gig coming up he could put together a huge collection of almost completely fresh tracks for far less than the five or six new tracks I would buy for the same sort of occasion. The final straw, though, came when the only record store in town that reliably stocked the music I was into AND provided listening stations, BPM Records, went out of business. I can still rifle the minimal bins at Amoeba, but without any way of previewing tracks before I buy them, I'm essentially betting money that my admittedly limited knowledge of artists and labels will help me pick consistent winners. Past experience has demonstrated that this is patently not the case.
As a mobile DJ who has schlepped gear for numerous events over the years I was also drawn to the convenience of CD players over turntables; for me the turntable is still the preferred instrument, but there's no denying that CD players are lighter to lug and far more forgiving of difficult conditions. Years ago, before my conversion to the dark shiny stuff, I was at an outdoor where a friend was playing records and began to have problems because of the heavy fog that had come in and was leaving drops of moisture on everything, including his records. I teased him about it, saying that CD players were far superior for adverse environmental conditions, even though years later I would be trying to protect my tonearms from being blown off track by gusts of wind coming off the playa. Ever since I began having to bring my own turntables to parties I have been aware of just how much space they take up, how heavy they are, and how tempermental they can be under the influnce of, say, a hundred people bouncing up and down on a wooden floor.
Of course, the convenience, in terms of music acquisition, afforded by digital tracks has some drawbacks as well. I'm indebted to Pee Play for introducing me to the term "blog house," the sort of music that proliferates through blogs like missingtoof.com, bigstereo.com, hypemachine.com, and others, that, while it might be of dubious quality, still becomes immensely popular because of the fact that people download it and play it. And, as I have discovered for myself, while the Top 100 charts of Beatport provide an easy way to scope out what's getting people's attention, it also engenders a degree of homogeneity among those same people. It's easy enough to find ways to obtain digital music, but I still think there's something about the process of crate digging at your favorite record store that yields a more individualistic set. Also, being able to hear an entire track, or at least the breakdown and return, is so much nicer than having to suss out the entire vibe of a track from a three-minute selection.
And, as far as playback devices go, while the CD player may offer a number of advantages in regard to space, weight, and environmental conditions, you have to remember that, in terms of functionality, the whole point of technological advances with CD players is to make them "play" more like turntables. There are some functional aspects of the CD player that I really like; instant cue return is great, being able to set a consistent "platter speed" eliminates the problems you have with records that are of different weight, and once you set the tempo, they'll steady as a rock; but, when it comes time to true up the beat-matching between two tracks, I have yet to find the combination of settings that give me the same level of haptic feedback and control as turntables.
I don't think vinyl is dead, but digital music is certainly forcing its adherents to consider the basis of their loyalty. As for me, I've still got the turntables set up in the bedroom, and I will still use them when I'm practicing at home or recording as set; but when it comes to time to play out I'l l probably only be carrying a book of CDs, and you can bet that the tracks I've recorded from vinyl will be well-outnumbered by those that I've obtained via download.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Event Review: Honey Sound System's Mineshaft Disco at 1015 Folsom
OK kids, I gotta be up front here: when an event involves the words "disco," "Sunday night," and "1015," I'll usually take a pass. However, being that those words were also accompanied by "Honey Sound System," I was determined to check out this party. When I walked out the door on Sunday night, unaccompanied by friends or boyfriend, and felt the drizzle on my face, I almost turned back around, and when I arrived at 103 Harriet Street at about 9.15 and was unable to find any sign that a party was going on, I was ready to ditch it once again. But, I had already spent cab fare to get there, so I decided to take a walk around the block in the hope that the doors would be open when I returned. Even though it was 9.40 when I was finally let in, I was ultimately glad that I stuck it out to attend the best event of the weekend.
There were problems with the doorman (Ken Vulsion let me and a couple other guys in as he was going out to grab a bite to eat since no doorman had showed up) and a mixer transplant had to be performed about a half hour after I arrived, but the HSS team made the basement of 1015 feel like a special warm, cozy space that made enduring these issues worthwhile. After walking into the dark entrance I spotted curtains of red and silver mylar forming a hallway to a flight of stairs leading down, and from below I could hear the music - it was like walking into a small, secret, underground space, even though it was in the basement of the biggest club in SoMa. In the space itself (which has a very cool round dance floor surrounded by booths and pulsating lights in the ceiling) the kids had put up a central display of packing boxes and record sleeves, along with some informational posters about the old Mindshaft club, and 1015's former existence as the infamous Sutro bathhouse. In another corner there was a memorial to Sylvester, whose death date was Monday, and all the table tops were decorated with more record sleeves and big plastic happy face whistles. My god, I thought, these guys have put together an actual theme!
There were only a couple other people in the club for the first half hour I was there, but by 11, which I had originally estimated as my departure time, it had picked up so much that I reconsidered. I saw several people I knew, and the crowd was really quite diverse, friendly, and fun. There were straight kids and gay kids, young guys and older, trannies and maybe even a couple muscle queens (it was certainly warm enough for shirts to come off, but maybe a little early), all getting down and smiling at one another on the dancefloor. More than any other events I've been to lately, HSS events seem to bring together a community of people who are interested in new experiences, new music (even if it is vintage), and meeting new people. It's the kind of vibe that I associate much more with raves than I do clubs, and I think it's a sign that these kids have tapped into a desire that many of us have for a scene that is about something more than body types, designer clothes, and music for the lowest common denominator.
As for the music - I danced to disco. Did you ever think I would write those words? The difference was that, in this case, I wasn't having to deal with the cheezy or the overly-familiar. It was during Jason Kendig's set that I found myself really listening to the music, and in his selections I heard the early days of house and the foundations of electro. I was suprised by some of the synth lines I heard, and how infrequently the tracks relied on overused disco devices like strings, horn sections, and warbling diva vocals. It was a much different tour through disco than what I have heard in the past, and it was enough to make me think that I need to look into this further.
Over the course of the evening I kept texting the boyfriend that he should get off the couch and come down, that the party was shaping up to be quite awesome, but he was firmly rooted in place, and so, by the time midnight rolled around, I knew that I needed to take off. As soon as I got home, though, I sent Pee Play an email saying that I hoped they would consider making this a monthly or semi-regular event. We sure could use use a little happy disco action in the community right now, and next time, I'll be better prepared to stay until the last track plays.
There were problems with the doorman (Ken Vulsion let me and a couple other guys in as he was going out to grab a bite to eat since no doorman had showed up) and a mixer transplant had to be performed about a half hour after I arrived, but the HSS team made the basement of 1015 feel like a special warm, cozy space that made enduring these issues worthwhile. After walking into the dark entrance I spotted curtains of red and silver mylar forming a hallway to a flight of stairs leading down, and from below I could hear the music - it was like walking into a small, secret, underground space, even though it was in the basement of the biggest club in SoMa. In the space itself (which has a very cool round dance floor surrounded by booths and pulsating lights in the ceiling) the kids had put up a central display of packing boxes and record sleeves, along with some informational posters about the old Mindshaft club, and 1015's former existence as the infamous Sutro bathhouse. In another corner there was a memorial to Sylvester, whose death date was Monday, and all the table tops were decorated with more record sleeves and big plastic happy face whistles. My god, I thought, these guys have put together an actual theme!
There were only a couple other people in the club for the first half hour I was there, but by 11, which I had originally estimated as my departure time, it had picked up so much that I reconsidered. I saw several people I knew, and the crowd was really quite diverse, friendly, and fun. There were straight kids and gay kids, young guys and older, trannies and maybe even a couple muscle queens (it was certainly warm enough for shirts to come off, but maybe a little early), all getting down and smiling at one another on the dancefloor. More than any other events I've been to lately, HSS events seem to bring together a community of people who are interested in new experiences, new music (even if it is vintage), and meeting new people. It's the kind of vibe that I associate much more with raves than I do clubs, and I think it's a sign that these kids have tapped into a desire that many of us have for a scene that is about something more than body types, designer clothes, and music for the lowest common denominator.
As for the music - I danced to disco. Did you ever think I would write those words? The difference was that, in this case, I wasn't having to deal with the cheezy or the overly-familiar. It was during Jason Kendig's set that I found myself really listening to the music, and in his selections I heard the early days of house and the foundations of electro. I was suprised by some of the synth lines I heard, and how infrequently the tracks relied on overused disco devices like strings, horn sections, and warbling diva vocals. It was a much different tour through disco than what I have heard in the past, and it was enough to make me think that I need to look into this further.
Over the course of the evening I kept texting the boyfriend that he should get off the couch and come down, that the party was shaping up to be quite awesome, but he was firmly rooted in place, and so, by the time midnight rolled around, I knew that I needed to take off. As soon as I got home, though, I sent Pee Play an email saying that I hoped they would consider making this a monthly or semi-regular event. We sure could use use a little happy disco action in the community right now, and next time, I'll be better prepared to stay until the last track plays.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Mix Download: Honey Sound System DJs
All the boys in the Honey Sound System - Pee Play, Jason Kendig, Ken Vulsion, Robot Hustle, and Derek B (with one on the way from Safety Scissors) - have put out a new set of mixes for your "Summer of Acid" listening pleasure. Check the Sounds link, and watch the site for news of upcoming HSS events.
PS: You can get copies of the mixes on CD, plus a copy of the new "Honey Porn" zine ($10) at their House of House party at The Transfer this Friday. See the Friday Night Guide for July 27 for more info.
PS: You can get copies of the mixes on CD, plus a copy of the new "Honey Porn" zine ($10) at their House of House party at The Transfer this Friday. See the Friday Night Guide for July 27 for more info.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Event Review: Stiffylube Fundraiser
A sex party is always a tricky proposition, one that can bring up all the anxieties inherent in bar cruising and amplify them by a factor of ten – what if I don’t hook up, what if nobody is into me, what if I’m not into anybody there? Fortunately, Stiffy Lube’s “Bad Men and Dirty Boys” fundraising event on Saturday night was able to walk the line between party and orgy, with considerable support on the party side from the Honey Sound System and the MC talents of Juanita Fajita, so that everyone had the chance for some satisfaction, whether in the arms of passion or just having an opportunity to hang out and enjoy the small crowd of gay Burners and party boys.
The boyfriend and I showed up around 10, and as usual were among the first people there. We left around four, after spending a couple hours on the door shift, and there were no signs that the party was heading for any kind of end. In the back room there was plenty of heavy breathing and other sounds of passion, while up front it was a pretty typical party scene, though with more shirtless guys than I have seen in a while. The crowd was small, some where around a hundred, but there was enough enthusiastic cheering during the deep throat contest, overseen by Juanita Fajita, that the cops showed up and told us to keep it down. Pee Play and Ken Vulsion kept the mood upbeat and festive throughout the night, and as the evening wore on I saw a number of queer luminaries, like John Wood, and Jeff and Gary, in attendance.
In all, it was a fun party in a private space, something you don’t often get to experience these days, and having so many attendees who were connected by the Burning Man experience meant that there was already a kind of built-in intimacy. The fact that it was in a difficult-to-reach location (that the boyfriend and I had to trek down most of upper Market to the Castro before we could get a cab after we left was a big bring-down) kept the attendance lower than it would have been otherwise, and $20 for showing up in street clothes, and then paying $3 a pop for drink tickets, also made it somewhat cost-prohibitive for those showing up after having spent regular bar hours elsewhere, but I think the Stiffylube crew can count themselves as having had a quite successful fundraiser that will only whet the appetite for future events.
The boyfriend and I showed up around 10, and as usual were among the first people there. We left around four, after spending a couple hours on the door shift, and there were no signs that the party was heading for any kind of end. In the back room there was plenty of heavy breathing and other sounds of passion, while up front it was a pretty typical party scene, though with more shirtless guys than I have seen in a while. The crowd was small, some where around a hundred, but there was enough enthusiastic cheering during the deep throat contest, overseen by Juanita Fajita, that the cops showed up and told us to keep it down. Pee Play and Ken Vulsion kept the mood upbeat and festive throughout the night, and as the evening wore on I saw a number of queer luminaries, like John Wood, and Jeff and Gary, in attendance.
In all, it was a fun party in a private space, something you don’t often get to experience these days, and having so many attendees who were connected by the Burning Man experience meant that there was already a kind of built-in intimacy. The fact that it was in a difficult-to-reach location (that the boyfriend and I had to trek down most of upper Market to the Castro before we could get a cab after we left was a big bring-down) kept the attendance lower than it would have been otherwise, and $20 for showing up in street clothes, and then paying $3 a pop for drink tickets, also made it somewhat cost-prohibitive for those showing up after having spent regular bar hours elsewhere, but I think the Stiffylube crew can count themselves as having had a quite successful fundraiser that will only whet the appetite for future events.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Event Review: Tea with Honey at The Transfer
Sometimes it takes a whole weekend to get it right, to catch the right vibe, to find yourself in a state where you're not thinking, or analyzing, or planning, but are finally caught up in the energy of the moment, lost in dancing, staying much later than you had planned on because it's all come together in such a way that you don't want to leave. Tea with Honey at The Transfer, the first attempt at a t-dance by the Honey Sound System crew of Pee Play, Ken Vulsion, and Robot Hustle, with special guest appearances by Safety Scissors and Gavin Hardkiss, was the perfect capper to a long weekend and probably the very best expression of the Sunday evening party that I have experienced in a long time.
I love the concept of the Sunday t-dance, something that starts late in the afternoon and ends around midnight. It's one last chance to go out, be social, dance, and drink before the work week begins, and since it's Sunday chances are there's not much that requires your attention beyond what you'll slot up in the DVD player. It starts early enough that you can go and leave and still get a good night's sleep, or if you're lucky to have Monday off, you can stay out a little late and feel naughty. And then there's the special element of Sunday evening music; chances are everybody has had enough of the high-energy approach by that point, what you want is something fun and easy-going, something that will move you onto the dancefloor but recognizes that, after a hard weekend of partying, you're probably not going to be looking for a serious aerobic workout. I think that Sunday evenings are when deep house truly reigns supreme, because it lets you groove and be mellow at the same time.
The boyfriend and I showed up at The Transfer a little after six, when the crowd was mainly barflies and a few folks who had come along to support the Honey Sound System. We got to chat a bit with Pee Play and got a copy of the Honey Sound System 'zine; if their musical talent wasn't enough reason to hate them, now they've got the visual thing going as well. Robot Hustle was playing ItaloDisco, a genre I generally don't care for but, here on this Sunday afternoon, seemed especially fitting for the mood. A few folks straggled in, but it wasn't until around 7, when Ken Vulsion took to the decks, that the energy really began to build - I guess everyone got home from the Eagle, powdered their noses, and made their way to the party.
Then, at 8, Gavin Hardkiss took to the decks and things really took off. Up until this point I've not really understood The Transfer as a dance space, but there I was, getting down and loving it. For the first time all weekend I was actually having fun, and Gavin did a bangin' job of keeping the mood upbeat and energetic with just a dash of the techy thrown in to keep it all interesting. The boyfriend got drunk and behaved in the most light-hearted way I've seen in weeks (and took some ah, revealing, photos in the photobooth ), one of our friends came to join us and danced like a madman, there were faerie boys and Burners and even a pirate in attendance. I spotted a few young starlets like Leo Herrera in the crowd, and the word "fabulous" tripped easily from the lips. The only downer was when someone stole a CD I had left up on one of the drink shelves, but I already had it burned to iTunes, so who cares?
We left around 10.30, before I had a chance to hear Safety Scisssors and Pee Play, but with the way these kids are taking off I'm sure I'll have multiple more opportunities. I know that they're planning a "House of House" party at The Transfer on the 27th, which I will be sure to attend, and you should mark your calendar as well. As our friend, Jimmy, said, these are certain to be the "It boys" of the gay party scene for a while, so come out and hear them now so you can say "I remember when they used to have those crazy parties at The Transfer."
Gavin Hardkiss demonstrates his fretting technique.
Ken Vulsion, Pee Play, and Leo Herrera get the boogie fever.
Ken Vulsion practices warding off the paparazzi.
Did I mention that there were pirates?
I love the concept of the Sunday t-dance, something that starts late in the afternoon and ends around midnight. It's one last chance to go out, be social, dance, and drink before the work week begins, and since it's Sunday chances are there's not much that requires your attention beyond what you'll slot up in the DVD player. It starts early enough that you can go and leave and still get a good night's sleep, or if you're lucky to have Monday off, you can stay out a little late and feel naughty. And then there's the special element of Sunday evening music; chances are everybody has had enough of the high-energy approach by that point, what you want is something fun and easy-going, something that will move you onto the dancefloor but recognizes that, after a hard weekend of partying, you're probably not going to be looking for a serious aerobic workout. I think that Sunday evenings are when deep house truly reigns supreme, because it lets you groove and be mellow at the same time.
The boyfriend and I showed up at The Transfer a little after six, when the crowd was mainly barflies and a few folks who had come along to support the Honey Sound System. We got to chat a bit with Pee Play and got a copy of the Honey Sound System 'zine; if their musical talent wasn't enough reason to hate them, now they've got the visual thing going as well. Robot Hustle was playing ItaloDisco, a genre I generally don't care for but, here on this Sunday afternoon, seemed especially fitting for the mood. A few folks straggled in, but it wasn't until around 7, when Ken Vulsion took to the decks, that the energy really began to build - I guess everyone got home from the Eagle, powdered their noses, and made their way to the party.
Then, at 8, Gavin Hardkiss took to the decks and things really took off. Up until this point I've not really understood The Transfer as a dance space, but there I was, getting down and loving it. For the first time all weekend I was actually having fun, and Gavin did a bangin' job of keeping the mood upbeat and energetic with just a dash of the techy thrown in to keep it all interesting. The boyfriend got drunk and behaved in the most light-hearted way I've seen in weeks (and took some ah, revealing, photos in the photobooth ), one of our friends came to join us and danced like a madman, there were faerie boys and Burners and even a pirate in attendance. I spotted a few young starlets like Leo Herrera in the crowd, and the word "fabulous" tripped easily from the lips. The only downer was when someone stole a CD I had left up on one of the drink shelves, but I already had it burned to iTunes, so who cares?
We left around 10.30, before I had a chance to hear Safety Scisssors and Pee Play, but with the way these kids are taking off I'm sure I'll have multiple more opportunities. I know that they're planning a "House of House" party at The Transfer on the 27th, which I will be sure to attend, and you should mark your calendar as well. As our friend, Jimmy, said, these are certain to be the "It boys" of the gay party scene for a while, so come out and hear them now so you can say "I remember when they used to have those crazy parties at The Transfer."
Gavin Hardkiss demonstrates his fretting technique.
Ken Vulsion, Pee Play, and Leo Herrera get the boogie fever.
Ken Vulsion practices warding off the paparazzi.
Did I mention that there were pirates?
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Upcoming Event: Tea with Honey T-Dance, Sunday July 15
Honey with Tea: A Tea Dance with Honey Sound System and Special Guest Gavin Hardkiss!
Fresh off his appearance at Supperclub on Saturday night, Gavin Hardkiss will join Honey Sound System DJs Ken Vulsion and Pee Play, as well as Robot Hustle and Safety Scissors, for a tea dance at The Transfer.
6PM - 12AM
No Cover Listed
The Transfer, Church and Market Streets
Fresh off his appearance at Supperclub on Saturday night, Gavin Hardkiss will join Honey Sound System DJs Ken Vulsion and Pee Play, as well as Robot Hustle and Safety Scissors, for a tea dance at The Transfer.
6PM - 12AM
No Cover Listed
The Transfer, Church and Market Streets
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
San Francisco Pride Recap
Whooo, Tuesday morning and I'm still a bit bleary from all the weekend's activities: passing out on Friday night from too much champagne on an empty stomach at Kitty's birthday party; up till 6AM on Sunday morning with Comfort and Joy at the Afterglow party, showing up at Faerie Freedom Village so Lord Kook could spin at 1, then my turn came at 5; and finally, some quality time with the boyfriend in Golden Gate Park on Monday, when we got to chill and go through a good system's re-boot.
Afterglow was the main event of the weekend for the boyfriend and myself since we not only had to set up and manage the gear, but also play a set each. The evening started out slightly difficult as we had two CDJ-800s in road cases, along with a folding keyboard stand, that we had to get over to the party right at that point when none of the cab companies were answering the telephone. After some frantic attempts to find other transportation I finally got a City Carshare car for the night, but the consequence was that I would have to drive us home after the night's festivities. After that bit of hassle, however, the party itself was a rollicking, smashing success, with an almost full dancefloor in the first hour. DJ Neco D got the mood up and carried through until the show started (again, late, and, again, overly long, but we were prepared for that on this occasion); by that time the room was completely packed, so I didn't see any of the performances, but when Lord Kook came on afterwards it all busted loose - at one point there was a shirtless, sweaty, writhing crowd up on the stage chanting "More! More! More! More!", and a group of happy lesbians were puddled together in the clawfoot bathtub in the restroom - it was like a scene from a Frameline movie, I swear. I went on around 3.30 and had it in mind to crank up the knarzy techno, but two songs in I was told that the cops had come by, so I took it down fairly deep and chill for the duration of my rather short set. Then DJ Pee Play and Ken Vulsion, aka The Honey Sound System, came on and absolutely ripped the roof off the place. We didn't get to stay for much of their set, as I had to have the car back by 6AM, and needed to put myself into a bed for a couple hours as well, but I heard that the cops came back again, and that there were still folks hanging out at noon the next day. Now that's a party, people.
Faerie Village was the calm in the midst of the Pride whirlwind that it always is. Aaron Neonbunny was the producer this year and went for a more low-key set-up, just two tents and sound systems on either side of the plaza, one for acoustic performances, one for DJ music. The idea had been to keep the sound pretty chill, but after about three songs Lord Kook had a small dancefloor rolling and decided to keep the energy up. DJ Mak, who can be heard at the W Hotel on Friday evenings, came on with some great Eurolounge after him, followed by trance stalwart KJ spinning worldbeat downtempo grooves, and then Mr. Neonbunny hisself demonstrated his command of the electro vocabularly. I got my shot to close out the village after Aaron, and though there were some odd technical difficulties (I've never had to adjust the tracking on a tone-arm to keep it following the record groove before), I was thrilled to play some sunny day techno for an appreciative crowd that included Marke B. of the San Francisco Bay Guardian.
Monday the boyfriend and I really needed some down time together, so we got together with an old friend I hadn't hung out with in years and went to Golden Gate Park. We walked from the Stanyan entrance all the way to Ocean Beach, had an amusing bus ride back to Laguna, hung out, went for a walk to enjoy a beautiful evening, watched Yellow Submarine, and reflected on an awesome Pride weekend.
It's easy enough to be cynical about Pride, especially when you live in the bubble of San Francisco, where the lack of repression felt by the LGBT community in the rest of the world tends to make us lazy, complacent, precious, and prone to in-fighting. But when you see guys walking hand-in-hand down Castro street like it's the most fantastic thing they've every done together, when you have the opportunity to meet up with friends you haven't seen in weeks or months, when you get to take part in events that you know have created special moments for others, then in those situations you do begin to appreciate what Pride does for us, both as individuals and members of a community.
Afterglow was the main event of the weekend for the boyfriend and myself since we not only had to set up and manage the gear, but also play a set each. The evening started out slightly difficult as we had two CDJ-800s in road cases, along with a folding keyboard stand, that we had to get over to the party right at that point when none of the cab companies were answering the telephone. After some frantic attempts to find other transportation I finally got a City Carshare car for the night, but the consequence was that I would have to drive us home after the night's festivities. After that bit of hassle, however, the party itself was a rollicking, smashing success, with an almost full dancefloor in the first hour. DJ Neco D got the mood up and carried through until the show started (again, late, and, again, overly long, but we were prepared for that on this occasion); by that time the room was completely packed, so I didn't see any of the performances, but when Lord Kook came on afterwards it all busted loose - at one point there was a shirtless, sweaty, writhing crowd up on the stage chanting "More! More! More! More!", and a group of happy lesbians were puddled together in the clawfoot bathtub in the restroom - it was like a scene from a Frameline movie, I swear. I went on around 3.30 and had it in mind to crank up the knarzy techno, but two songs in I was told that the cops had come by, so I took it down fairly deep and chill for the duration of my rather short set. Then DJ Pee Play and Ken Vulsion, aka The Honey Sound System, came on and absolutely ripped the roof off the place. We didn't get to stay for much of their set, as I had to have the car back by 6AM, and needed to put myself into a bed for a couple hours as well, but I heard that the cops came back again, and that there were still folks hanging out at noon the next day. Now that's a party, people.
Faerie Village was the calm in the midst of the Pride whirlwind that it always is. Aaron Neonbunny was the producer this year and went for a more low-key set-up, just two tents and sound systems on either side of the plaza, one for acoustic performances, one for DJ music. The idea had been to keep the sound pretty chill, but after about three songs Lord Kook had a small dancefloor rolling and decided to keep the energy up. DJ Mak, who can be heard at the W Hotel on Friday evenings, came on with some great Eurolounge after him, followed by trance stalwart KJ spinning worldbeat downtempo grooves, and then Mr. Neonbunny hisself demonstrated his command of the electro vocabularly. I got my shot to close out the village after Aaron, and though there were some odd technical difficulties (I've never had to adjust the tracking on a tone-arm to keep it following the record groove before), I was thrilled to play some sunny day techno for an appreciative crowd that included Marke B. of the San Francisco Bay Guardian.
Monday the boyfriend and I really needed some down time together, so we got together with an old friend I hadn't hung out with in years and went to Golden Gate Park. We walked from the Stanyan entrance all the way to Ocean Beach, had an amusing bus ride back to Laguna, hung out, went for a walk to enjoy a beautiful evening, watched Yellow Submarine, and reflected on an awesome Pride weekend.
It's easy enough to be cynical about Pride, especially when you live in the bubble of San Francisco, where the lack of repression felt by the LGBT community in the rest of the world tends to make us lazy, complacent, precious, and prone to in-fighting. But when you see guys walking hand-in-hand down Castro street like it's the most fantastic thing they've every done together, when you have the opportunity to meet up with friends you haven't seen in weeks or months, when you get to take part in events that you know have created special moments for others, then in those situations you do begin to appreciate what Pride does for us, both as individuals and members of a community.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Event Review: Sex and Icons Show at Magnet, Reception at The Transfer
Friday night's opening for Leo Herrera's "Sex and Icons" show at Magnet, followed by the reception party at The Transfer, was certainly the weekend's see and be seen event for the alternaqueer crowd, where there were more well put-together boys with complicated coifs than I have seen out in Clubland for a very long time. And though the show did not quite match my expectations , and the scenester aspect of the party tended to overpower my perceptions of its other elements, both confirmed for me that there is a younger gay underground art and music scene that is well on its way to re-defining the San Francisco club experience, with artists like Herrera providing the iconography, and DJs like Pee Play, Jason Kendig, Kenvusion, and Robot Hustle, along with their many associates, providing its essential heartbeat.
Leo Herrera's photos bring to mind Pierre et Gilles and David LaChapelle on first glance. Like the images of those photographers, Herrera's seem to come from a space inhabited by fables and mystical creatures, and he shares with them an anti-naturalistic aesthetic - unlike Pierre et Gilles, however, his images are not the supporting material for painterly re-workings, nor, like LaChappelle, does he work with the direct qualities of light. Instead, Herrera's muse is Photoshop, and you have the sense of hours spent trying to get just the right level of color saturation, or using filters to manipulate specific layers. Herrera has a terrific visual sense for both color and composition, and what was perhaps most notable about all his images was the consistency of the vision that ran through them, from work that was produced for commercial purposes, up through his faux porn posters, to his more abstract moments, such as the straight-on contemplation of a poppers bottle and a bumper, or, perhaps the most memorable image of the show, a large, metal bracelet-adorned dildo with very convincing pre-cum courtesy of a hot glue gun.
As the title of the show makes clear, Herrera is interested in the iconic aspect of his images, their ability to encapsulate a quality that transcends their specific nature and reveals their connection to a universal concept. In light of this, I thought it interesting that so many of the images had a commercial context, such as the image of Peaches Christ as a towering tranny monster that was used to promote her Midnight Mass shows, or the porn posters. In many ways, the work of a commercial photographer is to create iconic imagery by investing the ordinary with a supernatural or super-real quality. This was what I saw as the craft in Herrera's work, and the rationale for his image manipulations: the imposition, by the photographer, of meaning onto things that are ordinarily mundane, like a brown poppers bottle, or a dildo that you could pick up anywhere in the Castro. However, if Herrera's images were successful at imbuing meaning into objects that ordinarily had none, I thought it was less successful when contemplating objects that already had the capacity to speak for themselves. One of the images I was most curious to see, for example, was of Harvey Milk's suit that he wore the night he was assassinated. Herrera's treament was to crop the composition very tightly, so that the form of the shirt was reduced to just the front panels, and to put a light behind it that glowed through the material like an ethereal heart. But, did Harvey Milk's shirt need to be aestheticized to this degree to make it speak as an iconic object, did it really need Herrera's artistic intervention to have a voice? In looking at this photograph, and of Daddy Alan Selby's leather hat perched on top of someone else's head, I wished Herrera had taken an approach more out of straight photography, giving the objects the ability to simply be what they were, which, to me, would have placed them more in the realm of the iconic than an aesthetic interpretation that was, for me, too literal-minded. My final thought at the show was that Herrera has both an aesthetic vision and the skills to execute it, but perhaps needs to spend more time thinking about what he is revealing rather than what he is creating.
The reception at the Transfer was probably the most fabulous event I've attended in a while - disco balls threw diamond spots of light all through the bar, posters and proof sheets were suspended on lines along the walls, they even moved the damn pool table out of the way. Kids were crowding in on the heels of the Magnet show closing, and DJs Ken Vulsion and Robot Hustle were setting a fun, easy-going vibe. The tracks tended toward electro and a little bit retro, and though I was personally in the mood for something a bit harder and a little more techno, I had no real complaints. Well, aside from the fact that I still can't get the hang of the Transfer's space - even after clearing the pool table and moving the tables and chairs into its previous space the dance floor seemed more like a way station on the route to the bathrooms, with the bar serving as the soul for that space. The boyfriend and I eventually headed off to Lights Down Low at 222 Hyde, since we were in more of a mood to dance than to hang out and add our own iconography to the scene, but it seemed pretty clear to me that this was ground zero for the new clique of kids who will be defining the gay club scene for their generation, and I will be happy to check out their events and chart their progress.
Leo Herrera's photos bring to mind Pierre et Gilles and David LaChapelle on first glance. Like the images of those photographers, Herrera's seem to come from a space inhabited by fables and mystical creatures, and he shares with them an anti-naturalistic aesthetic - unlike Pierre et Gilles, however, his images are not the supporting material for painterly re-workings, nor, like LaChappelle, does he work with the direct qualities of light. Instead, Herrera's muse is Photoshop, and you have the sense of hours spent trying to get just the right level of color saturation, or using filters to manipulate specific layers. Herrera has a terrific visual sense for both color and composition, and what was perhaps most notable about all his images was the consistency of the vision that ran through them, from work that was produced for commercial purposes, up through his faux porn posters, to his more abstract moments, such as the straight-on contemplation of a poppers bottle and a bumper, or, perhaps the most memorable image of the show, a large, metal bracelet-adorned dildo with very convincing pre-cum courtesy of a hot glue gun.
As the title of the show makes clear, Herrera is interested in the iconic aspect of his images, their ability to encapsulate a quality that transcends their specific nature and reveals their connection to a universal concept. In light of this, I thought it interesting that so many of the images had a commercial context, such as the image of Peaches Christ as a towering tranny monster that was used to promote her Midnight Mass shows, or the porn posters. In many ways, the work of a commercial photographer is to create iconic imagery by investing the ordinary with a supernatural or super-real quality. This was what I saw as the craft in Herrera's work, and the rationale for his image manipulations: the imposition, by the photographer, of meaning onto things that are ordinarily mundane, like a brown poppers bottle, or a dildo that you could pick up anywhere in the Castro. However, if Herrera's images were successful at imbuing meaning into objects that ordinarily had none, I thought it was less successful when contemplating objects that already had the capacity to speak for themselves. One of the images I was most curious to see, for example, was of Harvey Milk's suit that he wore the night he was assassinated. Herrera's treament was to crop the composition very tightly, so that the form of the shirt was reduced to just the front panels, and to put a light behind it that glowed through the material like an ethereal heart. But, did Harvey Milk's shirt need to be aestheticized to this degree to make it speak as an iconic object, did it really need Herrera's artistic intervention to have a voice? In looking at this photograph, and of Daddy Alan Selby's leather hat perched on top of someone else's head, I wished Herrera had taken an approach more out of straight photography, giving the objects the ability to simply be what they were, which, to me, would have placed them more in the realm of the iconic than an aesthetic interpretation that was, for me, too literal-minded. My final thought at the show was that Herrera has both an aesthetic vision and the skills to execute it, but perhaps needs to spend more time thinking about what he is revealing rather than what he is creating.
The reception at the Transfer was probably the most fabulous event I've attended in a while - disco balls threw diamond spots of light all through the bar, posters and proof sheets were suspended on lines along the walls, they even moved the damn pool table out of the way. Kids were crowding in on the heels of the Magnet show closing, and DJs Ken Vulsion and Robot Hustle were setting a fun, easy-going vibe. The tracks tended toward electro and a little bit retro, and though I was personally in the mood for something a bit harder and a little more techno, I had no real complaints. Well, aside from the fact that I still can't get the hang of the Transfer's space - even after clearing the pool table and moving the tables and chairs into its previous space the dance floor seemed more like a way station on the route to the bathrooms, with the bar serving as the soul for that space. The boyfriend and I eventually headed off to Lights Down Low at 222 Hyde, since we were in more of a mood to dance than to hang out and add our own iconography to the scene, but it seemed pretty clear to me that this was ground zero for the new clique of kids who will be defining the gay club scene for their generation, and I will be happy to check out their events and chart their progress.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Upcoming Event: Sex and Icons Show at Magnet, Reception at The Transfer
Local photographer Leo Herrera will be presenting a solo show of images "of rare gay artifacts pulled from the GLBT Historical Society's world-renowned archives (the suit worn by Harvey Milk the night of his assassination), as well as living gay figures (Amanda Lepore, gay rapper Cazwell), and historic monuments (Stonewall Tavern)" at Magnet on 18th Street (x Castro) this Saturday from 8.00 - 10.30 PM. Following the opening join Jason Kendig, DJ Pee Play, Kenvusion, and Robot Hustle at The Transfer for the get-down reception. The opening is free, and I believe the reception is as well. More info on the show at www.HomoSexualArt.com.
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