Event Review: Rich Morel's Hot Sauce at Grand Central (Baltimore)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Listening to Bob Mould on City Arts and Lectures

This past Sunday I caught the Bob Mould interview on City Arts and Lectures on KQED, part of their Talking Music series. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be a taped version of this on their website, but there were some cool stories about Bob's days with Husker Du and their crazy tours, including a long stopover here in SF while they crashed at Jello Biafra's place.

It was a thought-provoking experience to listen to this on an afternoon when I was intending to go to a disco night later in the evening, since, when Bob talked about wanting to get rid of "that music" on the radio, he was making an oblique reference to the disco and pop tunes of the late 70s and early 80s that dominated the charts. I really didn't get into punk music until about 1984, and discovered Husker Du following the release of Zen Arcade, but listening to Bob made me think about how we followed similar paths - angry small town boys who first found an outlet for our feelings in punk music, and who also came around to dealing with our sexuality through that same scene. I remember when Bob was outed by Spin, and then the sudden uptick in Queercore bands like Pansy Division and queer punk zines coming around at the same time.

It's interesting to think about the difference a few years would have made in the identifications I had with the gay world. I was still in high school in rural Virginia when AIDS was identified, and by the time I had gone through college and begun investigating the gay scene a whole generation of men who had experienced that first wave of gay liberation and danced in the discos had been wiped out. Those who survived and came after them brought with them a lot of anger, as I did, over everything from the political climate to the way AIDS patients were being treated. When I hung out with guys in ACT-UP in Baltimore, they didn't listen to disco, they listened to Fugazi and Husker Du and Minor Threat, Nirvana and Ministry. We had pretty typical second-generation attitudes toward the first generation of out gay men, in that we saw their culture as stifling and traditionalist, and wanted to make things for ourselves. When I wanted to scope boys I didn't go the gay bars, but to rock shows and goth/industrial clubs.

Bob Mould and I are pretty much products of the atmosphere in which we came out; while the mood of the 7os generation might be characterized as happy and liberated, our generation felt angry and oppressed. Then, by the mid-90s, all those queer punks found that the second movement we had mobilized had lost its teeth, settling now for issues like marriage and military service, things we vehemently opposed. I guess it makes sense that disco is now undergoing this tremendous revival both here in SF and, from what I've heard, in New York; it evokes happy memories for an older generation, and connects the most recent with a gay identity that seems to offer more radical opportunities for self-expression. It is somewhat galling to think that the gay culture that I and my friends rejected has now re-emerged as a dominant cultural force, while the main accomplishment of our anger and political motivation has been to create a class of gay bourgeoisie, and this, I must admit, accounts for at least some of my own attitude toward the disco aesthetic. And then there are the times when I look around at the current state of the gay scene and I just feel like a curmudgeon, much in the same way as that first generation of gay men must have felt when they encountered my generation and realized that there had been a tremendous shift in values and aesthetics that had taken place without their realizing it.

Bob Mould is still putting out albums, but it seems that he's changed a lot since I last saw him do a solo acoustic show at a small bar in Baltimore; he's now DJing are regular night in DC and New York called Blowoff, and I noticed that on his myspace page, one of his friends is the Service Members Legal Defense Fund. It also seems that Bob has traded in his punk identity for being a bear; I didn't even recognize his current physical incarnation from the husky, intense, geeky guy I watched with rapt attention. I'm glad that Bob has found a way to re-define himself as he starts creeping up on 50; it's pretty hard to maintain that angry energy your entire life without turning into a total crank. I'm a little disappointed in looking at their setlists; maybe I'd like it better if I was actually listening to it, but it seems a bit like a repudiation of the punk aesthetic for pretty mainstream stuff. But at least Bob has found a way to position himself in relation to contemporary gay culture, something that, for all of us, becomes much more difficult as the years pass.

NYTimes Article on 1 Oak; Inventor of Bottle Service Tries to Make Amends

If you're a regular visitor you've probably read some of my rants about how I think bottle service is responsible for the overall decline of the club scene, because it's essentially made the whole point of the scene to be about who has the most money. Fork over $300 for a bottle of Stoli and you get to sit down and are treated like royalty; for the rest of us, tough luck. I don't think much of clubs that are about the cash shake-down, nor do I have any desire to rub elbows with people who think they're better than me because they make more money.

In today's NYTimes there's an article about a new lounge called 1 Oak that I know I'd never be able to get into, and the team behind it, which includes Jeffrey Jah, one of the guys responsible for instituting bottle service. Here is an interesting excerpt regarding what they think of this service now:

What they all agree on is a policy of velvet egalitarianism at the door. People will have to earn their way past the ropes with an appealing personal style or disposition, Mr. Jah said, not a promise to pay for bottle service, as is the norm in many places.

“A class system is being instituted, and I don’t like it,” he said one autumn afternoon wearing a yellow T-shirt with the slogan “I’ve Got a Black Belt ... in Keepin’ it Real” and sipping ice tea in his meatpacking district restaurant, the Inn LW12.

Mr. Jah helped popularize bottle service in the early 1990s, but he said the practice began as a way to keep people at tables from having to cross a packed dance floor on the way to the bar. It was not intended, he said, to be a golden ticket into a tony lounge.

Mr. Sartiano lamented that in the days of Spy Bar, for instance, if someone approached you, “you knew they were cool because they got in.” No more.

So while 1 Oak will offer bottle service, “first you need to get in,” Mr. Sartiano said. “Then you need to be cool enough to get a table. Then you can get bottles. Somewhere it got switched.”

Now, of course, this is their way of separating the "real" celebs from the new money hedge-fund managers, so it's just as elitist as bottle service in its own way. But it caught my eye because it seems that, in some small way, these guys are acknowledging how this practice has become detrimental to creating a good vibe in the club. I doubt that bottle service will go away, it makes way too much money for the clubs for that, but it would be nice to see some of our local dumps, like Le Duplex, realize that bottle service doesn't make for a better club experience, it just makes for a dumpy club full of louts with too much money.

New York Times on Female DJ Style

Funny how everything having to do with DJs seems to wind up in the Style section of the New York Times, rather than in the music section. This time it's an article on the trend-setting styles of female DJs, and while I must admit that the girls definitely have a look, it's not very clear if they actually play good music - in fact, the article seems to say that, as long as they look good behind the decks, what they play doesn't necessarily matter.

Resurrection of mr. Black in New York

Here's an interesting (if poorly written) article about the infamous mr. Black club in New York. The boyfriend and I checked it out last Thanksgiving when we took a vacation to the other coast; as we were on San Francisco party time we showed up too early, didn't think too much of the crowd or music, and wound up leaving before midnight (yes, we are sometimes that lame). My best memory of the night was all the go-go boys disappearing into bathrooms and behind stage together, and then coming out all smiley, so the news that the club got busted for drug racketeering comes as no big shock. But hey, at least these guys are trying to give people a *reason* for coming out to their parties, and understand the concept of vibe, which is much more than I can say for a lot of the promoters in this city.

A Disquieting Death in the NY Club Scene: Dean Johnson

Today's New York Times has an article on the strange and untimely death of Dean Johnson, one of the reigning funky bohemian queers of the New York club scene. I can actually remember his band, Dean and the Weenies, from back in the madcap 80s. It's an interesting article about a life lived through the ups and downs of the New York club scene, including the halcyon days of the 80s, dealing with HIV, and then trying to make a comeback, topped off by an ignomious end. The best quote is at the very end of the article, from our own Lady Bunny:

“He was part of the club scene, and the club scene is, to a large degree lost, killed by bottle service,” said Lady Bunny, the drag queen. “New York is not a place for a funky, baroque bohemian to flourish in anymore.”

Sadly, I've come to think that this applies to San Francisco as much as it does New York.

New York Times on the Last Misshapes Party

There's an article in today's New York Times about the last Misshapes party that went down in SoHo on Saturday night. For those of you who have not been following the New York scene (and why aren't you?), the Misshapes have been the big IT kids for about four years now, winding up as DJs for big fashion shows and now having spun off a blog, a clothing line, and a photo book. My favorite line in the article is "In 2002 Geordon Nicol, 23; Greg Krelenstein, 28; and Leigh Lezark, 23 — self-styled D.J.’s known more for their post-new-wave aesthetics than their turntable skills — started their nightlife careers with a one-off at Luke & Leroy." You know, if you just have the right style, and you can get the other stylish kids to show up too, then the whole music thing doesn't really matter.

It's a good article in that it gets right down to the whole damned if you do/damned if you don't aspect of the hipster club scene - if you're not hip enough, then nobody pays attention to you, but if you get to be the hip party, then everybody is sooooo over you and spends the rest of their time sniping at you. Sorta like Burning Man here. Me, I'm slowly becoming of the same opinion as one of the kids quoted in the article: “The new hot party is the dinner party." At least at my own parties I have no one but myself to blame if the music sucks.

The Minimal Bible

Wow, and I thought I was a bitch. From the Machines are Funky blog, which credits John Hassay (apparently the Managing Director for Colonel Blimp Video and the producer of many fine music videos) for the original:

1. If you have some money to spend, feel free to bring lots of cocaine and ketamine. Don't splurge it all on the actual party , as the after party is where you drugs count - expect to be feeding your favourite minimal DJ's with tons of nose candy until late the next day. Be sure you can hang.

2. If you have a nice big flat and don't mind it being temporarily used as a crack house, be sure to offer it to your favourite minimal DJ before he or she leaves their respected party - be aware that you will most likely have no say on who actually attends the after party, but rest assure you are on your way to becoming a minimal hypster.

3. The haircut is very important, although it is very important - you must not let this be the DEFINING aspect. For tips on hypster haircuts, check on the internet for the latest pictures of Magda - be sure the photo is hot and up to date, as this commandment rotates about every 2 weeks - by that time there is thousands
with the same haircut.

4. Underrated but very serious in your quest to minimal hyperstardom is the minimal scarf. Normally used by French artists say to the world "hey I am an artist, shuchameblah" this is now a sure-fire way to let everyone else know - hey I am down with the minimal sound. Current minimal hypsters who sport the minimal scarf include Luciano, Ricardo, Richie, Magda, Troy and Marc Houle.

5. If you ever have the chance to meet Rich Hawtin, when talking with him - make sure you agree with everything he says and most importantly REPEAT. If you do not have the pleasure of meeting him personally, but have a friend who has - just repeat to everyone what your friend has told you he said. If they are a true
minimal hypster they will surely repeat their whole conversation anyway. With people such as Troy Pierce, Magda, Ricardo Villalobos, Luciano, this same rule applies to a lesser degree, but still enough to get you on your
way.

6. This one is very important, forget about your health and live for the moment. You must be willing to take as many drugs as your favourite minimal superstar DJ. As long as your are willing to party until the last moment on a broad combination of drugs all at the same time, such as Ketamine, Mdma, lots and lots of cocaine, speed, LSD and the occasional mushrooms you will surely be accepted and furthermore run the possibility of
being admired. You can never imagine the power of totally ruining your body and mind in the conquest to being a minimal hype star.

7. This one is simple! Keep it superficial. Under no circumstances should you have a conversation with some depth or meaning. Recommended topics of discussion are haircuts, the newest minus record, how cool magda is, how much drugs Ricardo took the night before, how cool the current party is, and how amazing of a musician Luciano is. Just tell yourself over and over, this is not actually being superficial - it's just being minimal.

8. Sex, Sex, Sex - in the minimal hypster world you should never expect to get laid before 48 hours of straight partying. Even if you have a special liking for that certain someone, keep in mind that if they too are an aspiring minimal hypster like yourself they will most definitely be at that after-hours, and where better place to get down to sexual business. (This is the time when taste, memory and morals are all flushed down the toilet) if you are a
female, this is the time where you chances are highest of scoring with your favourite minimal superstar DJ, therefore immediately catapulting yourself into minimal stardom. (most of the time you will just settle for someone who knows Rich Hawtin).

9. Be sure to constantly read the writing of PHILIP SHERBURNE - he is the man who will always keep you informed on the newest and best hype on the internet. DO NOT EVER QUESTION HIS INTENTIONS OR MENTION THE FACT THAT ALL HE WRITES ABOUT IS HOW COOL RICARDO, RICH HAWTIN, MAGDA, LUCIANO, ROBAG WRUHME AND MUTEK CREW IS. He is literally the man to go to if you want to be fed with the minimal hype. Although it seems as if he is desperately trying to fit in and be accepted, everyone should realize HE HAS ALREADY BEEN ACCPETED. He just loves his role as minimal hypster so much that he wants to spread the love. As with Rich Hawtin the same rule applies to Mr. Sherburne, everything he writes or says AKNOWLEDGE, AGREE AND REPEAT.

10. THE MINIMAL CAPITAL OF THE WORLD BERLIN! If you wish to be a minimal hypestar, one of the easiest ways is to come to Berlin with no plan and frequent places such as the famous drug spots like bar25, club de
visionarie and panoramabar. It is these locations in which your minimal fantasies become realities - expect to see people like Rich Hawtin, Matt John, Konrad Black, Troy Pierce and Magda totally out of their minds and much more easy to approach. It is here that you can forge those life long, superficial - I mean minimal relationships.

These rules are meant in no specific order - ONE MORE GOLDEN RULE! Don't forget minus is the best label
to surface in the last decade with its revolutionary stance on music. Almost as if they coined the term minimal.

Upcoming Event: Kontrol v. Bunker in NYC, July 20

Continuing with their trans-continental pollination, the Bunker boys of New York will be hosting our local favorites Alland Byallo, Craig Kuna, and Sammy D at the Galapagos Club in Brooklyn on July 20th. If you're travelling to NY, or are already there, you should check it out for a great evening of techno from two super collectives.

NYTimes Article: "Coke is the New Weed"

Way back in February of this year I wrote an entry for this blog on "the new coke," about how cocaine seems to have made this incredible resurgence on the club scene. Now I have the New York Times to confirm that it's not just here where cocaine is becoming a nightlife staple once again, and that prices for a half-gram party pack are set at about the same level as in New York as they are here ($25-30). There are some great quotes in this article, including an investment banker guy who buys two grams a week (urgh, and how is that sinus condition treating you?):

“I do it every day,” said Kristoff, a European transplant to New York who works in finance and would not give his last name. He said he pays $150 for two grams of cocaine. “If I have to work at 6 in the morning and I have to be on top of the game, I’ll do it. I’ll take a gram of coke and make half a million dollars.”

Wow.

New York Pridefest Cancelled!

Over the weekend I heard that the New York City Pridefest, which is the festival that takes place at the end of the Pride parade, was being cancelled. It appears that this is a combination of the Mayor's Office refusing a permit for the location that was previously proposed (in Chelsea) and the organization behind Pridefest deciding that the alternative location (Washington Street in the West Village) was sub-optimal. Full explanation on the Heritage of Pride website. I'm trying to track down a couple sources for a more on-the-spot perspective and will share that info with you all as soon as I have it.

Berghain: Philip Sherburne on Berlin Techno Hedonism

For a while now the boyfriend and I have been trying to engineer our way across the ocean to Berlin. I first went there in 1984 and had my day of adventure in the East, where kids admired my "Nike schuehe," I saw real East German borderguards with submachine guns and police dogs, and had the crap scared out of me when I heard what sounded like a loud explosion from the direction of the wall. I returned in 1995 to live there for a summer while I took classes at Humboldt University, and then again in 1996 just to be a bum. I got to see the last Love Parade on the Kudamm and manged to find my way into clubs like Tresor, E-Werk, and WMF. My last visit was in 2000, and my most moving memory is standing on the roof the restored Reichstag, looking down into the glass dome of the legislative chambers. The symbolism was some of the most powerful I have ever experienced in architecture.

One of the things that drew me to Berlin was its long and rich history of decadence, its stature as a birthplace of avant-gardes, and the amazing history that was embodied in everything around me. One of my friends was a Kreuzberg anarchist who owned a bicycle shop (now doesn't that sound strangely familiar?) who would ride me around the city and point out moments in fascist history. Over here is the wall where the communists executed members of the June 17 1953 uprising; and here's a building in the park where Hitler had participants in the assassanation plot executed; oh, and that old bunker over there? That's a dance club called Bunker.

Philip Sherburne's This Month in Techno column in Pitchfork describes Berghain, the current version of a decadent dance club in a massive industrial setting. It reminds me of what I went to Berlin looking for, and being thrilled to find, but it also made me wonder about the way in which Berlin has become mythologized as this land of techno sybarites. It looks like we're working on another chapter in that mythology, and I hope I'll soon have a chance to learn its places and names.

Naked, Performing with Snakes: NYTimes on Dubai Nightlife

Dubai is starting to seem like the weirdest place in the world. To get a really good idea of just how weird, check out George Saunders' essay "The New Mecca" in the 2006 edition of The Best American Nonrequired Reading. And then there's this article on Dubai nightlife from a recent issue of the New York Times. I particularly enjoyed the final paragraph:

As 3 a.m. approaches, all the Grey Goose at Trilogy is polished off and the imported D.J.’s pack away their records. “The thing is,” says Jessica Glunz, “Dubai definitely has the potential to be a party capital of the world if the government wants it to be. It’s already the world’s most famous city, and that took them how long? Ten years?” From here the revelry moves behind closed doors: I tag along with a couple of wealthy party boys, who cruise around looking for pretty people to scoop up. We join the after-hours party at someone’s hotel room, where there are drinks and dancing and enough drugs to fill a pharmacy. Pretty soon, the live entertainment arrives: naked male and female dancers paid to perform with snakes, à la Britney Spears.

Wow, those kids know how to throw an afterparty.

Minneapolis Report

Hey kids, just back into town from the Mini-Apple (no, I didn't make that up), pretty pooped but wanted to give you the quick shot of my brief forays into Minneapolis gay nightlife.

Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday are never good nights for going out anywhere, and Minneapolis is a small city (380,000 people or so), but I was fortunate that my hotel location made it easy for me to walk to The Eagle on Washington Avenue and The Saloon and The Gay 90s, both on Hennepin (the main drag for clubs, bars, and restaurants).

The Minneapolis Eagle, like its namesakes in Washington, San Francisco, and New York, has a back patio area that is the focus of the Sunday afternoon scene. It was a warm, beautiful day and, when I arrived around 7PM, there was a good crowd of 50-75 guys who seemed to have been boozing away for a while before I got there. The crowd here, as at all the bars, was much less studied than a San Francisco crowd, with many of the guys looking like, well, just guys rather than gym bunnies or crazy pierced freaks or the other usual categories in the taxonomy of San Francisco gay culture. The other major difference was - no pot smoke! I stayed for two drinks, about an hour, but had absolutely no cruising luck, or even that much interest in crusing. It was one of those moments when I wondered if I was invisible. But, with the crowd thinning, I decided it was time to go get some food and then check out the Sunday DJ night at The Saloon.

The Saloon on Hennepin bills itself as the major gay dance club, and that night their resident (Kiko, something like that) was coming on at 10. I got there around nine, enjoyed a drink al fresco, and then cruised in to check out the scene. Again, though there was nothing particularly attitudinal about the guys, I must have been wearing my invisibility cloak. The music was a lot like being at The Cafe, and by midnight, after they couldn't find anyone to participate in their "sexy shower" contest (there was a working shower with plexiglass walls right off the main dance floor), it seemed like it was time to head back to the hotel.

Monday I was fortunate to find the Vital Vinyl record store right behind my hotel, and then had a great time at the Walker Art Center (one of the most appealing aspects of Minneapolis is its strong art community and some of the most amazing contemporary architecture I've seen anywhere), but it wasn't unitl Tuesday that I went out again, this time with some other queers from my conference. We met up at The Gay 90s, a HUGE club that could easily hold over a thousand people. It was supposed to be a drag performance night, but I've never seen so many guys lip synching at a drag show (and I'm pretty sure they weren't drag kings). The women were of the female impersonator variety, and the guys were, well, pimps. The music was all hip hop, the audience was a bit on the thuggy side, and the area was, well, really sketchy - I saw the cops busting a guy, and got hit up by a hustler offering me "massage," within a block of the club while walking there (never, ever respond to someone asking "Excuse me, excuse me, do you happen to be . . . gay?") The drinks were strong, though, and by midnight, with a flight to catch in the morning, I caught a lift back to the hotel cuz I sure didn't feel like walking.

This was my second visit to Minneapolis, and it seems like it might be a fun city to explore on a purely recreational basis. The third week in May is Art-Whirl, a massive open studios/arts festival, and the guys at Vital Vinyl let me know that there's some great nightlife on the weekends. Had I been there from Wednesday through Saturday or Sunday I'm sure the gay clubs would have been more fun as well. So, if you're looking for a less expensive, less intense vacation destination, you might want to think about a trip to America's Mini-Apple.

The Jaded Gay DJ on the Road!

Hey kids, the jaded gay dj is on the road this week, working on the skills that pay the bills (really, I don't make a living at this, ya know?) So while I'm in the midwest capital of fun (until Wednesday), Minneapolis, expect the updates to be a little less frequent. But here's a sneak preview of what I'll be putting up for you in the next few days:

Charlie Horse's "Carnival Freaks" at The Cinch: Anna Conda as Marlene Dietrich, Frieda Laye and Juanitia Fajita as conjoined twins - think about that for a while!

Techno Parties in the Park: to paraphrase an associate, I love it when the biggest problem of my day is figuring out which techno party in the park is the one I meant to attend!

Minneapolis Scene Report: hey, gay bars here are just as boring as they are in San Francisco!

Watch this space for more soon!

NY Times Article on "The Male Gaze" Show: Nostalgia in Oppositional Gay Culture

My friend J sent me a link this morning to a New York Times article about "The Male Gaze," a "just-opened group show at the powerHouse Arena in the Dumbo area of Brooklyn, that makes clear how a new generation of artists is addressing itself frankly to the varied and mutating shapes of sexuality." These attempts are being formulated in zines like Butt and the output of artists like Christian Holstad and Scott Hug, and those formulations, according to the shows's curator, Nicholas Weist, “argues for a new kind of alternativism that reacts against the mainstream of the culture.” It's easy to see this argument being enacted in our little bubble of a gay scene in San Francisco, where you have an oppositional "queer" culture that gathers around Trannyshack and The Rod and enacts nostalgic longings for pre-AIDS sexuality. As the article's author, Guy Trebay, puts it:

. . . nostalgia remains a powerful current running through the new gay male art scene, manifest as a longing for what, from a distance, looks like the utopian days of radical and pre-AIDS politics and unfettered sex.

That many gay people now find themselves squarely in the mainstream is a source of useful friction for artists like Dean Sameshima, whose Web site explains that his randy autobiographical work was inspired by “the will to assert and examine the continued existence” of underground gay cultures. A similar thought turned up a while back in a Butt interview with the gay German playwright Patrick Schuckmann.

“Gay culture is coming to an end,” said Mr. Schuckmann, head writer for a hugely popular German soap opera whose title, translated, is “Good Times, Bad Times.” “In a way I regret that, because this gay identification was so important for me, and I liked the revolutionary aspects of this idea of having a different sexuality. Now it’s all about marriage and being like everybody else.”

The article goes on to point out that, for some artists in the show, like James Morrison, we are entering into a kind of post-gay era in which being gay is secondary to anything else. It's easy to see how this could be interpreted as a betrayal of the queer oppositional position that so many of us championed through the late 80s and early 90s, where the very fact of our gayness set us apart from the rest of the world, and, theoretically at least, enabled us to take a critical stance toward mainstream culture that promised to usher in a new era of progressive politics. Ironically AIDS was the shock to the system that catalyzed the second major wave of gay liberation and civil rights. Now the oppositionl culture, in its longing to return to the pre-AIDS era, also seems to want to return to an apolitical vision of gay identity, one that focuses purely on sexuality, and a very randy version of sexuality at that.

The problem with this, or at least what I struggle with, is that the attempt to re-invigorate gay identity by re-invigorating an underground gay sexuality is that it leads, both politically and culturally, to a dead end. If we want to focus on a "purely" gay culture than what we have is 70s disco, and the incorporation of any contemporary aesthetic component is a vaguely assimilationist threat. We thus get caught up in an endless repeating cycle that, in another ten years, will make us look as anachronistic as swing kids today. At the same time this oppositional sexuality traps us in an eternally horny yet unfulfilled adolescence - what happens to my oppositional identity when I get a boyfriend and decide that he's all I really want? This is the decision that expels us from the gay garden of earthly delights, or at least, so it has seemed in my own experience - when you're no longer looking for that fucked-up hook-up, what's the point of most gay party nights?

For me the solution is to realize that my queerness sets me apart in almost any situation, gay or straight, and that it still enables me to look at the world in a uniquely critical way. I think it's more important to go forth into the larger cultural world and drag my queer sensibility along with me than to settle down into narcissistic nostalgia. Besides, it's far more oppositional to be the two boys kissing in the corner at a "straight" techno party than on the back porch of Deco. And if I can get those kids to let me or the boyfriend up on the decks and bring our queer interpretation to their world, I think this creates more real change than any solipsitic, studied attempts to re-create the Paradise Garage. This is perhaps a "post-gay" attitude, if being gay is defined solely in terms of a specific set of sexual attitudes and practices, but I was always much more interested in being queer than gay anyway.