Those of you who've been reading this blog for a while probably already know what my opinion of The Transfer was, but for those don't, I regarded it as very possibly one of the worst places to hear DJ music in the entire city. It was laid out poorly, with half the patrons huddled over a bar on one side, and the other half trying to find some flow between the pool table, bench seating, and standing tables on the other. The sound was horrible, and way too loud to boot, and there was no place to just hang out and have a drink and a conversation. I stopped going to events there because, if they were good and crowded, you spent the whole night with a drink in your hand, constantly moving around to find a resting place, and if the night didn't go off, it felt like the shitty little dive that it was.
The Bar on Church, Greg Bronstein's replacement for The Bar on Castro, is a one hundred percent improvement over The Transfer, with great red lighting (very reminiscent of BOC), comfy padded banquette seating (ditto), and a layout of the bar along the long back wall instead of off to one side. The space feels balanced, comfortable and chic.
However, in continuing with the traditions of the Bar on Castro, the music is wholely mediocre. The boyfriend and I stopped in last Friday around nine as we were headed down to Pulse at Paradise Lounge, and after hearing the TingTings' "Great DJ (Calvin Harris Mix)" we thought, oh yeah, this could be good, only to bear witness to the playing of two Prince tracks within the span of 10 minutes, an electro mix of a Coldplay track, and a remix of "Circus" by Brittney Spears.
For a typical Castro bar, this is the kind of thing I'd expect, and at least there was a little innovation in the tracks we heard, but adhering to the usual formulas of lowest-common denominator dance music, a la 92.7, is not going to work for a bar that's off the beaten path. In the Bar on Castro you could get away with this sort of thing (and worse) because people weren't coming there for the music, they were coming there because of the location. With The Bar on Church, though, it's a destination, a place you have to go to on purpose, and you need something to draw people in there that's not just a replication of what they can more conveniently obtain at (shudder) Qbar, Badlands, The Cafe, or even Jet. The Transfer, though it was a dumpy hole, at least held out the promise of presenting innovative club nights, from Frisco Disco to Bender, where you could hear good music and dance. If the Bar on Church is going to be anything more than an out-of-the-way version of a Castro experience, it needs to return to the kind of innovative programming that The Transfer was developing a reputation for.
Showing posts with label The Transfer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Transfer. Show all posts
Friday, February 6, 2009
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Changes Afoot at The Transfer
All you scenesters have probably noticed that changes are afoot at The Transfer - Frisco Disco got booted, Sno-Drift has moved to UndergroundSF, and Joshua J ended Big Top there when he started M4M at UndergroundSF. In addition, I've heard that general manager Yasser was fired a few weeks ago. So, you might be wondering what's up over at that grubby little dive of a club?
According to a source within the industry familiar with The Transfer and owner Greg Bronstein, the closing of Jet to expand it into the next door space on Market has caused Bronstein to turn his attention to his other properties (he also owns The Bar on Castro and Lime), and he wasn't too happy with what he saw at The Transfer. Apparently his intention is to make it "more gay," and to try and bring its cash flow up to the same level as The Bar on Castro (which reportedly brings in multiple thousands of dollars a day gross). Given that The Transfer has a crappy sound system, and is a tiny, uncomfortable dive bar in a bad location, I wonder how it will ever meet the same standards as The Bar, but then it's not my business, either.
One of the more interesting manifestations of Bronstein's attempts to remake The Transfer can be seen in a recent ad for the bar in Gloss, which goes like this:
NEWS FLASH
Being Laid Off Doesn't Mean You Can't Get Laid At The Transfer
"I didn't know you could check out cute bartenders, dance to hip hop, and drink $1 drinks all at the same bar," says Bon Qui Qui
So, in an attempt to revitalize The Transfer as a gay bar, Bronstein is reaching out to cheap, unemployed fags who are into hip-hop, and has chosen someone whose name translates to something like "good who who" as a spokesperson? Yep, works for me.
According to a source within the industry familiar with The Transfer and owner Greg Bronstein, the closing of Jet to expand it into the next door space on Market has caused Bronstein to turn his attention to his other properties (he also owns The Bar on Castro and Lime), and he wasn't too happy with what he saw at The Transfer. Apparently his intention is to make it "more gay," and to try and bring its cash flow up to the same level as The Bar on Castro (which reportedly brings in multiple thousands of dollars a day gross). Given that The Transfer has a crappy sound system, and is a tiny, uncomfortable dive bar in a bad location, I wonder how it will ever meet the same standards as The Bar, but then it's not my business, either.
One of the more interesting manifestations of Bronstein's attempts to remake The Transfer can be seen in a recent ad for the bar in Gloss, which goes like this:
NEWS FLASH
Being Laid Off Doesn't Mean You Can't Get Laid At The Transfer
"I didn't know you could check out cute bartenders, dance to hip hop, and drink $1 drinks all at the same bar," says Bon Qui Qui
So, in an attempt to revitalize The Transfer as a gay bar, Bronstein is reaching out to cheap, unemployed fags who are into hip-hop, and has chosen someone whose name translates to something like "good who who" as a spokesperson? Yep, works for me.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
No More Big Top at The Transfer?
Just before heading off to the playa I heard from a pretty reliable source that, along with Frisco Disco, Big Top had also been banished from The Transfer. Given that Big Top always seemed to do quite well, it makes one wonder, if the rumor is true, what's going on there? I've heard a few speculations, but since they're just that, I won't repeat them here.
Since Joshua J is starting up a new party at UndergroundSF on Fridays (M4M), and recently had Booty Call at The Bar hailed as one of the best gay nights by SFWeekly, I'm sure that the demise of Big Top won't really affect him very much. Still, you have to wonder exactly what they're trying to do at The Transfer, and who else they'll shaft in the future.
Since Joshua J is starting up a new party at UndergroundSF on Fridays (M4M), and recently had Booty Call at The Bar hailed as one of the best gay nights by SFWeekly, I'm sure that the demise of Big Top won't really affect him very much. Still, you have to wonder exactly what they're trying to do at The Transfer, and who else they'll shaft in the future.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Another One Bites the Dust: The End of Frisco Disco at The Transfer
Further evidence that it's not just about the night, it's also about the club, the All Shook Down blog at the SFWeekly reports that "THE WORLD FAMOUS FRISCO DISCO" (apparently if you assert something in all caps, that makes it true) is leaving The Transfer, and is rather pissed about it. I'm tellin' ya, once a dumpy dive bar, always a dumpy dive bar, no matter how hard you try to hipster it up.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Event Review: Drunk and Horny v. Frisco Disco
This past Saturday the boyfriend, J, Kitty and I went out to wish Jeff and Gary good luck with the reconstitution of Drunk and Horny as a monthly, and then, on a whim, the boyfriend and I went over to The Transfer to check out the infamous Frisco Disco. It wasn’t quite what I expected, but was close enough in terms of vibe to Drunk and Horny that it did seem a bit familiar.
We arrived around midnight, and when we first came through the door Richie Panic was in the midst of a three track trip through the 80s that made me think we somehow had walked through a wormhole that had brought us back to Underground SF. I was in the bathroom, thinking that one drink’s worth of retro was about all I could take, when he switched up and made a run into the bloghouse/banger territory that I had expected. Over the course of the next hour we heard Feist’s “My Moon My Man (Boysnoize remix),” Justice’s “D.A.N.C.E. (Justice Remix),” and Kid Cudi’s “Day N’ Night (Crooker’s Remix)," which should give you a sense of the night's musical flavor (all trainspotting thanks to the boyfriend, btw).
Richie Panic is a laptop DJ and has a style that I have come to think of as typical for DJs who work in this medium, one that I characterize as brutalism. There are no long mixes; rather, he takes advantage of the ability to set cue points and have tracks start and stop on exact beats. The effect is of the tracks being spliced together in a continuous stream, rather than being mixed, where you hear perhaps two or three minutes of one track before another one starts, usually at a point that keeps the intensity and energy of the mix pretty high. The crowd was clearly into it, and in some ways it's appropriate to the banger genre; I refer to it as brutalism because it reminds me of the architectural style, which opted for the big, chunky and concrete over the subtle and organic, with an occasional gesture toward striking juxtapositions of form. I find this style of DJing to be a bit difficult to listen to over a long period of time, but there were plenty of happy dancers grooving along with Richie's set when we left around 1.30.
The crowd was pleasingly diverse, with lots of women and gay guys on the dancefloor, though it wasn’t quite as fabulous as the Myspace pictures would have led me to believe. Maybe this is because it was so damned dark in there, it was hard to tell what anyone what looked like, but it might also be because The Transfer, no matter how fab a party you bring to it, is still a dumpy dive of a bar, and it’s hard to not look like a dork standing there with a drink in your hand. Why the back room wasn’t open I have no idea, this certainly seemed to be a big enough crowd to warrent the opening of the second bar, and it would have made getting drinks a lot easier than dealing with bartenders who seemed more interested in doing shots with their friends than serving other patrons.
My overall impression is that Frisco Disco is sort of a straight version of Drunk and Horny, though with admittedly more contemporary music. It seemed like the kind of party where folks come because they want to drink some really poisonously strong potions, dance around to music that is pleasingly familiar, and feel a little naughty and edgy for a while. As for me, now that I’ve been there once, I don’t feel a real compelling need to go back (an opinion that might change should they ever move on from The Transfer), but you should definitely check it out for a glimpse into one of the reigning hipster dance scenes of the moment.
We arrived around midnight, and when we first came through the door Richie Panic was in the midst of a three track trip through the 80s that made me think we somehow had walked through a wormhole that had brought us back to Underground SF. I was in the bathroom, thinking that one drink’s worth of retro was about all I could take, when he switched up and made a run into the bloghouse/banger territory that I had expected. Over the course of the next hour we heard Feist’s “My Moon My Man (Boysnoize remix),” Justice’s “D.A.N.C.E. (Justice Remix),” and Kid Cudi’s “Day N’ Night (Crooker’s Remix)," which should give you a sense of the night's musical flavor (all trainspotting thanks to the boyfriend, btw).
Richie Panic is a laptop DJ and has a style that I have come to think of as typical for DJs who work in this medium, one that I characterize as brutalism. There are no long mixes; rather, he takes advantage of the ability to set cue points and have tracks start and stop on exact beats. The effect is of the tracks being spliced together in a continuous stream, rather than being mixed, where you hear perhaps two or three minutes of one track before another one starts, usually at a point that keeps the intensity and energy of the mix pretty high. The crowd was clearly into it, and in some ways it's appropriate to the banger genre; I refer to it as brutalism because it reminds me of the architectural style, which opted for the big, chunky and concrete over the subtle and organic, with an occasional gesture toward striking juxtapositions of form. I find this style of DJing to be a bit difficult to listen to over a long period of time, but there were plenty of happy dancers grooving along with Richie's set when we left around 1.30.
The crowd was pleasingly diverse, with lots of women and gay guys on the dancefloor, though it wasn’t quite as fabulous as the Myspace pictures would have led me to believe. Maybe this is because it was so damned dark in there, it was hard to tell what anyone what looked like, but it might also be because The Transfer, no matter how fab a party you bring to it, is still a dumpy dive of a bar, and it’s hard to not look like a dork standing there with a drink in your hand. Why the back room wasn’t open I have no idea, this certainly seemed to be a big enough crowd to warrent the opening of the second bar, and it would have made getting drinks a lot easier than dealing with bartenders who seemed more interested in doing shots with their friends than serving other patrons.
My overall impression is that Frisco Disco is sort of a straight version of Drunk and Horny, though with admittedly more contemporary music. It seemed like the kind of party where folks come because they want to drink some really poisonously strong potions, dance around to music that is pleasingly familiar, and feel a little naughty and edgy for a while. As for me, now that I’ve been there once, I don’t feel a real compelling need to go back (an opinion that might change should they ever move on from The Transfer), but you should definitely check it out for a glimpse into one of the reigning hipster dance scenes of the moment.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Upcoming Event: Honey Dog at the Transfer with Discodromo, Tuesday January 8
Honey Sound System is teaming up with the promoters of Chili Dog at the Transfer to present the dirty cosmic disco sounds of Italien producers Discodromo. Check out the Discodromo mix over at the Honey Sound System website.
FREE
9PM - 2AM
The Transfer, Church x Market
FREE
9PM - 2AM
The Transfer, Church x Market
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Year End Wrap-Up
I think that sometime this morning, after having a chocolate chip pancake, two sausage patties, and a cup of coffee, I finally got over my holiday hang-over. Thursday morning I was still bleary from one last evening of indulgence after helping the Drunk and Horny crew clear out of their ill-fated occupation of The Gingerbread House, and the weekend's rain and power loss mostly inspired me to stay home and huddle in front of the TV.
Actually, I'm a little disappointed in myself when I look back over the holiday festivities; I had a whole calendar of events that I wanted to check out, and yet most of my party time was spent inside private residences. I did make it out to French Kiss on the Sunday before Christmas, though it was obviously an off-night, and also found myself at The Transfer for part of DJ Kidd Sysko's set at Big Top, though it was also not quite what I had mind for the night. Aside from a social call at Lucky Pierre this past Friday those were the only club events I made it to over the full thirteen days I had off. There was also helping out with the Comfort and Joy Solstice and Afterglow parties, and of course Drunk and Horny New Year's Eve, but I can't really say that I partied at any of those events. Instead, the boyfriend and I hosted an orphan's Christmas at our place, enjoyed hanging out with Jeff and Gary and other members of the DnH crew after clearing out the Gingerbread House, and had quite a nice early morning of tuning our third-eyes when we got back from the impromptu NYE party that the guys generously held when their original plans fell through. This isn't to say that I didn't engage in some serious indulgence over the holidays, and, in fact, I let loose so much that some New Year's resolutions were made as a result.
Looking back over the year it seems that this was the year in which the party scene picked up a little energy, even though the continuing economic conditions of the city are making it increasingly difficult to re-capture the freewheeling party lifestyle that ruled back in the glorious pre-dot-com days. Several new parties, like Lucky Pierre and Frisco Disco, demonstrated that there is still an underground energy that people respond to, and Honey Sound System almost single-handedly revived the otherwise moribund gay dance scene. At the same time, there were some notable losses, like the demise of the How Weird Street Faire and the cancellation of Halloween in the Castro, and there are continuing issues around mixed use spaces in SoMa and the ability of the Entertainment Commission to keep our nightlife alive in the face of encroaching condominium development.
Even with the party scene picking up a bit, though, there remains the question of whether there are really enough people going out to support it. On many occasions I have gone out to an event to find it almost completely empty, leading one to wonder if we have enough of a party population to support more than a few club nights. Under these circumstances it's hard to muster much excitement for going out, since it's often a case of the same people, the same music, the same scene week after week, and there's nothing so discouraging as spending our hard-earned dollars for taxi rides, cover charges, and overpriced drinks (and all the bars seem to have raised their prices as of January 1) only to realize that the night we gambled on has turned out to be a fizzle.
Looking into the New Year I realize that these are the weeks of slack, the times when everybody hunkers down a bit and gathers their world around them rather than going out into it. My hope for this new year is that we will see a little more excitement return to our scene, and that I will feel a bit more anticipation for the approach of the weekend. I hope that reading this blog will help each of you find an adventure of your own, and I hope that the boyfriend and I will be able to show you a good time at Fuck Shit, Let's Dance. And finally, sometime this week let's all find a moment to raise a glass and say "So long, George Bush, and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out."
Actually, I'm a little disappointed in myself when I look back over the holiday festivities; I had a whole calendar of events that I wanted to check out, and yet most of my party time was spent inside private residences. I did make it out to French Kiss on the Sunday before Christmas, though it was obviously an off-night, and also found myself at The Transfer for part of DJ Kidd Sysko's set at Big Top, though it was also not quite what I had mind for the night. Aside from a social call at Lucky Pierre this past Friday those were the only club events I made it to over the full thirteen days I had off. There was also helping out with the Comfort and Joy Solstice and Afterglow parties, and of course Drunk and Horny New Year's Eve, but I can't really say that I partied at any of those events. Instead, the boyfriend and I hosted an orphan's Christmas at our place, enjoyed hanging out with Jeff and Gary and other members of the DnH crew after clearing out the Gingerbread House, and had quite a nice early morning of tuning our third-eyes when we got back from the impromptu NYE party that the guys generously held when their original plans fell through. This isn't to say that I didn't engage in some serious indulgence over the holidays, and, in fact, I let loose so much that some New Year's resolutions were made as a result.
Looking back over the year it seems that this was the year in which the party scene picked up a little energy, even though the continuing economic conditions of the city are making it increasingly difficult to re-capture the freewheeling party lifestyle that ruled back in the glorious pre-dot-com days. Several new parties, like Lucky Pierre and Frisco Disco, demonstrated that there is still an underground energy that people respond to, and Honey Sound System almost single-handedly revived the otherwise moribund gay dance scene. At the same time, there were some notable losses, like the demise of the How Weird Street Faire and the cancellation of Halloween in the Castro, and there are continuing issues around mixed use spaces in SoMa and the ability of the Entertainment Commission to keep our nightlife alive in the face of encroaching condominium development.
Even with the party scene picking up a bit, though, there remains the question of whether there are really enough people going out to support it. On many occasions I have gone out to an event to find it almost completely empty, leading one to wonder if we have enough of a party population to support more than a few club nights. Under these circumstances it's hard to muster much excitement for going out, since it's often a case of the same people, the same music, the same scene week after week, and there's nothing so discouraging as spending our hard-earned dollars for taxi rides, cover charges, and overpriced drinks (and all the bars seem to have raised their prices as of January 1) only to realize that the night we gambled on has turned out to be a fizzle.
Looking into the New Year I realize that these are the weeks of slack, the times when everybody hunkers down a bit and gathers their world around them rather than going out into it. My hope for this new year is that we will see a little more excitement return to our scene, and that I will feel a bit more anticipation for the approach of the weekend. I hope that reading this blog will help each of you find an adventure of your own, and I hope that the boyfriend and I will be able to show you a good time at Fuck Shit, Let's Dance. And finally, sometime this week let's all find a moment to raise a glass and say "So long, George Bush, and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out."
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Mix to Download: Richie Panic Live at Frisco Disco
Missingtoof.com has a live mix of Richie Panic at Frisco Disco that's kinda neat - I wouldn't have thought of putting Chromeo, Samim, and Claude Von Stroke on the same mix (and I even own several of these tracks), but that's why I check out other people's stuff. This is a little more on the booty side of electro and indietronica, with nice techno edge that pops out every now and then, put together in a tight mix. I'm sure sets like this must drive them crazy every Saturday over at The Transfer. Shake it baby, shake it!
Tracklist
Tracklist
- Zongamin - Bongo Song
- Federico Franchi - Cream (Original)
- Acid Jacks - Awake Since 78 (Mstrkrft Remix)
- Acid Jacks - Mookie (Curses! Remix)
- Chromeo - Bonafide Lovin’ (LA Riots Remix)
- Samim - Heater (Vandalism Re-Rub)
- Claude VonStroke - The Whistler (The Ashton Shuffle Remix)
- The Rapture - W.A.Y.U.H (Claude VonStroke Pantydropper Vocal Mix)
- The Presets - I Go Hard, I Go Home (Club Mix)
- DJ Jeroenski - Back Once Again (Vandalism Remix)
- Koma & Bones - Multistorey (Original Mix)
- C.L.A.W.S. - C.L.A.W.S. Theme (Passions Remix)
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Upcoming Event: Lord Kook at Bender, Friday December 14
This Friday Lord Kook will be the guest DJ at Bender at The Transfer (Church x Market), with residents DJ6 (Lucky Pierre, Heat) and Candy Girl (Lucky Pierre). NO COVER kids, so come down and hear the kookster spin out a whole lot of new music he's been saving up for this very event.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
The Long Thanksgiving Weekend
Thanksgiving is a hard holiday for all those San Francisco residents who are émigrés from elsewhere; it’s the one time of the year when you might reasonably be expected to make the expedition to see your family, however they may be defined, while, on the other hand, anybody who has experienced the long cattle drive of holiday travel might be more inclined to hunker down and wait out the whole weekend with a stock of food and booze. The pull between these two directions leaves the city seeming somewhat hollowed out over the long weekend, and the faces you see when you do go out are just as likely to belong to someone visiting their Uncle Bruce as they are to an actual resident.
I had five days off to look forward to over this holiday weekend, and I went into them thinking that I had a good idea of how they would pass; stock up on food, booze, and pot, hit a couple parties, maybe get a little crazy. Instead I found myself drawn more to the comforts of the hearth and wound up cooking a steak dinner, getting a Christmas wreath for the front door of the apartment, and, god help me, becoming a cat-owning gay resident of the Castro.
Wednesday evening the boyfriend and I were in total agreement for what we wanted: to go out anywhere. We started prowling the Castro around 9.00 PM and were drawn into The Bar by the sound of some decent club electro from DJ PB, who was warming up the crowd for Juanita More’s Booty Call party. It was a surprisingly lively crowd, though I suppose all of us who were there didn’t really have anything to do the next day. The boyfriend wound up talking to a guy from Sacramento who was visiting, and after two drinks we decided to hook up with our friend Matt and see what was happening at The Transfer. We were a bit surprised when we got there by both the sparseness of the crowd and the sound of dub step coming out of the sound system. We had a drink while we waited for Matt to arrive, but since we were feeling self-conscious about being the only guys there not wearing black hoodies, we decided to head back to The Bar. On the corner of Market and Fillmore we ran into Gary of Jeff and Gary fame, passed some time with him and other denizens of Drunk and Horny at an apartment across the street, then headed back to The Bar. After our experience at Juanita More’s Playboy I was somewhat hesitant about another of her parties, but this time the music was much better and the mixing somewhat improved; in fact, Juanita sounded tighter than both the DJ who preceded her and the one who followed, and was considerably better than when we last heard her at The End Up. We hung out for a few more drinks and then stumbled our way home. In retrospect this was the best evening of the entire weekend; the boyfriend and I had the pleasure of one another’s company, we set out looking for adventure and had spontaneous fun with our friends, and when we went home, it was with a feeling of satisfaction that we had found what we wanted for the night.
Thursday the plan had been to visit some friends in the Outer Richmond prior to dinner, come back, cook for ourselves, and head over to Gobble at Temple. Plans that require a lot of activity tend to go astray, however, after many bottles of champagne and a delayed, then sedating, dinner. At 4PM we thought we had better be going, but since “dinner is almost ready,” we decided to stick around to sample the delicacy of Tur-Duck-Hen. At 6.30 we finally sat down to eat, and after our trek at 8.00 PM to find a cab in the wilds of 45th and Geary, we decided we had had enough of socializing for the night, came home, watched an episode of Family Guy, and passed out. Lameness, thy name is mine.
Friday was the day of false anticipation; as some readers made me aware, the all night Disco Party at Mezzanine, for which we have tickets and were expecting this past Friday, is actually this coming Friday, so we went with the back-up plan of Honey Sound System at The Transfer. We arrived early and had a nice chat with Ken Vulsion about their inheritance of a record collection from one of the founders (along with Sylvester) of Magnetone records, which not only includes vinyl but actual session tapes. They will be debuting some of these finds at an upcoming part, but Friday Ken gave a little tour through disco to whet the appetite. I must admit that I still find it hard to listen to disco; hearing Rod Stewart’s “Passion” on Friday night brought back a number of unfortunate memories associated with high school and the Solid Gold TV show, but I will say that, of the various DJs in this city I’ve heard playing disco, Ken certainly is among the best for knowing how to put all those complicated, and often quite cruddily mastered, mixes together. We listened to part of Josh Cheon’s set, but nothing was really making us move, and the crowd was a little odd – I kept having the feeling that the kids there had come thinking that it was Frisco Disco, and several people we had expected to see never showed. We wound up calling the same guys we had hung out with on Wednesday night to see what they were up to – which, as it turned out, was a night of stimulated conversation. We hung out, had some drinks, got a little stimulated ourselves, but still turned it in by a respectable 1AM.
After three successive days of vacation, Saturday arrived and we didn’t really know what to do with ourselves, nor was there anything really compelling on the club schedule. The boyfriend had a cold, and after hanging out with some producer friends, eating a steak dinner, and soaking in the hot tub, he was ready to call it an evening at 10.30. I, on the other hand, had been offered some after-dinner digestive powder, and was feeling restless – I wasn’t exactly in a mood to go out and party, nor did I really have anyone to go out with, but I also didn’t feel like playing Xbox until I was ready for sleep. I compromised by taking a walk to return a video, thinking I would find something along the way. I checked into The Bar, but it was already more crowded than I was interested in dealing with; the same was true of Frisco Disco, and since my haircut didn’t match up with those of the other kids in line, I got the sense it wasn’t exactly my scene (which seems to have been proved true by a reader report of the evening). I stood on the corner of Filmore and Market for a few moments, contemplating my options, before finally turning and heading up to Drunk and Horny at Underground SF, thinking that I could at least hang out with a few people I might know there.
Unfortunately, Drunk and Horny proved to be more depressing than simply staying home. Though I am good friends with many of the folks involved with that party – Sparky had been one of the people eating dinner with us previously in the evening – I really cannot relate to that particular scene. I’ve spent a lot of time wondering why this is; it’s certainly lively, there are lots of guys who are having a good time, and on this occasion there was a go-go boy with a Mohawk, loincloth, and hot tribal tattoos that would normally make me drool – but every time I go there I feel this sense of distance between myself and everyone else. I think this may be because Drunk and Horny has been very good at crafting a high-school/collegiate vibe that, in the end, makes me feel kinda old and lame. This is largely because of the music; either it’s good-time party standards that make me remember my own high school dances, or it’s contemporary “urban flava” that is all the stuff that became popular after I left college. Thus, musically, I get caught in space that either make me feel old, or out of touch. If I had felt moved to dance, and perhaps flirt a bit, I probably could have passed a couple hours there and gone home feeling well-spent, but as it was it only added to the out-of-synch feeling that dogged me throughout the night – I was out of synch with the boyfriend, who was tired and out of sorts and wanted an early bedtime, I was out of synch with the crowd at Drunk and Horny, and I left feeling out of synch with the whole vibe of gay San Francisco on a Saturday night. I went home to the last resort of many gay men who find that their Saturday has not gone quite the way they would like; I checked out some online porn, took care of business, had a drink and a Vicodin, and passed out on the couch watching episodes of Futurama.
When Sunday dawned I was still feeling kinda geeked out from the night before, but this was the day of the kitty. On my way to feed a friend’s cat, I got a call from the boyfriend, who had gone to the gym, telling me that there was a cat rescue service with kittens down at Castro and 18th. Our plan had been to go check out the kittens at Macy’s, but after he called I knew exactly how the day would turn out. Sure enough, by 3PM we had obtained an Abyssinean kitten (now named Disco Biscuit, Disco to his friends, Mr. Biscuit to you), I had had my first experience in a Castro pet store (nothing will make you feel more bourgeois, I assure you), and our friend Kitty had come over to meet our newest family member. Up until that point I had been firmly determined to check out French Kiss at Pink that evening, but now, staying home and bonding with my new friend seemed more important, and more appealing, than another night out on my own.
I had Monday off, and it was a day of reflection. I had started the weekend with definite party agenda, but, in the end, had only really gone out to one event on it. Instead, it was the spontaneous moments of going exploring with the boyfriend, meeting up with friends to hang out in their or our apartment, and those moments of bonding around our new kitten that had seemed the most satisfying to me. When I thought about how unhappy I had been on Saturday night, I realized it wasn’t because I had gone out by myself – I’ve done that often enough, and the boyfriend even thinks that my spirit of adventure in doing so is an admirable quality – but because I had felt so sunk down within myself. I had wanted connection, and fun, and adventure, and instead I only wound up feeling alienated. It put the point to something that I’ve felt for a long time – that the only reason for going out is to have that sense of connection to others through the sharing of experience; when going out is just about “making the scene” it’s an ultimately shallow experience. You’re there, but that’s it, and in your “thereness” you realize just how alone you are (the being of being in being is awfully painful, as you Heideggerians know). If there’s good music and dancing I can feel myself in connection with something else, and with other people, but if all that I’m doing is standing around with a drink in my hand, then I might as well go home. As another long holiday approaches I hope I’ll have more opportunities for experiences that bring me closer to others, whether they’re in a club or just hanging out with the people I want to know.
I had five days off to look forward to over this holiday weekend, and I went into them thinking that I had a good idea of how they would pass; stock up on food, booze, and pot, hit a couple parties, maybe get a little crazy. Instead I found myself drawn more to the comforts of the hearth and wound up cooking a steak dinner, getting a Christmas wreath for the front door of the apartment, and, god help me, becoming a cat-owning gay resident of the Castro.
Wednesday evening the boyfriend and I were in total agreement for what we wanted: to go out anywhere. We started prowling the Castro around 9.00 PM and were drawn into The Bar by the sound of some decent club electro from DJ PB, who was warming up the crowd for Juanita More’s Booty Call party. It was a surprisingly lively crowd, though I suppose all of us who were there didn’t really have anything to do the next day. The boyfriend wound up talking to a guy from Sacramento who was visiting, and after two drinks we decided to hook up with our friend Matt and see what was happening at The Transfer. We were a bit surprised when we got there by both the sparseness of the crowd and the sound of dub step coming out of the sound system. We had a drink while we waited for Matt to arrive, but since we were feeling self-conscious about being the only guys there not wearing black hoodies, we decided to head back to The Bar. On the corner of Market and Fillmore we ran into Gary of Jeff and Gary fame, passed some time with him and other denizens of Drunk and Horny at an apartment across the street, then headed back to The Bar. After our experience at Juanita More’s Playboy I was somewhat hesitant about another of her parties, but this time the music was much better and the mixing somewhat improved; in fact, Juanita sounded tighter than both the DJ who preceded her and the one who followed, and was considerably better than when we last heard her at The End Up. We hung out for a few more drinks and then stumbled our way home. In retrospect this was the best evening of the entire weekend; the boyfriend and I had the pleasure of one another’s company, we set out looking for adventure and had spontaneous fun with our friends, and when we went home, it was with a feeling of satisfaction that we had found what we wanted for the night.
Thursday the plan had been to visit some friends in the Outer Richmond prior to dinner, come back, cook for ourselves, and head over to Gobble at Temple. Plans that require a lot of activity tend to go astray, however, after many bottles of champagne and a delayed, then sedating, dinner. At 4PM we thought we had better be going, but since “dinner is almost ready,” we decided to stick around to sample the delicacy of Tur-Duck-Hen. At 6.30 we finally sat down to eat, and after our trek at 8.00 PM to find a cab in the wilds of 45th and Geary, we decided we had had enough of socializing for the night, came home, watched an episode of Family Guy, and passed out. Lameness, thy name is mine.
Friday was the day of false anticipation; as some readers made me aware, the all night Disco Party at Mezzanine, for which we have tickets and were expecting this past Friday, is actually this coming Friday, so we went with the back-up plan of Honey Sound System at The Transfer. We arrived early and had a nice chat with Ken Vulsion about their inheritance of a record collection from one of the founders (along with Sylvester) of Magnetone records, which not only includes vinyl but actual session tapes. They will be debuting some of these finds at an upcoming part, but Friday Ken gave a little tour through disco to whet the appetite. I must admit that I still find it hard to listen to disco; hearing Rod Stewart’s “Passion” on Friday night brought back a number of unfortunate memories associated with high school and the Solid Gold TV show, but I will say that, of the various DJs in this city I’ve heard playing disco, Ken certainly is among the best for knowing how to put all those complicated, and often quite cruddily mastered, mixes together. We listened to part of Josh Cheon’s set, but nothing was really making us move, and the crowd was a little odd – I kept having the feeling that the kids there had come thinking that it was Frisco Disco, and several people we had expected to see never showed. We wound up calling the same guys we had hung out with on Wednesday night to see what they were up to – which, as it turned out, was a night of stimulated conversation. We hung out, had some drinks, got a little stimulated ourselves, but still turned it in by a respectable 1AM.
After three successive days of vacation, Saturday arrived and we didn’t really know what to do with ourselves, nor was there anything really compelling on the club schedule. The boyfriend had a cold, and after hanging out with some producer friends, eating a steak dinner, and soaking in the hot tub, he was ready to call it an evening at 10.30. I, on the other hand, had been offered some after-dinner digestive powder, and was feeling restless – I wasn’t exactly in a mood to go out and party, nor did I really have anyone to go out with, but I also didn’t feel like playing Xbox until I was ready for sleep. I compromised by taking a walk to return a video, thinking I would find something along the way. I checked into The Bar, but it was already more crowded than I was interested in dealing with; the same was true of Frisco Disco, and since my haircut didn’t match up with those of the other kids in line, I got the sense it wasn’t exactly my scene (which seems to have been proved true by a reader report of the evening). I stood on the corner of Filmore and Market for a few moments, contemplating my options, before finally turning and heading up to Drunk and Horny at Underground SF, thinking that I could at least hang out with a few people I might know there.
Unfortunately, Drunk and Horny proved to be more depressing than simply staying home. Though I am good friends with many of the folks involved with that party – Sparky had been one of the people eating dinner with us previously in the evening – I really cannot relate to that particular scene. I’ve spent a lot of time wondering why this is; it’s certainly lively, there are lots of guys who are having a good time, and on this occasion there was a go-go boy with a Mohawk, loincloth, and hot tribal tattoos that would normally make me drool – but every time I go there I feel this sense of distance between myself and everyone else. I think this may be because Drunk and Horny has been very good at crafting a high-school/collegiate vibe that, in the end, makes me feel kinda old and lame. This is largely because of the music; either it’s good-time party standards that make me remember my own high school dances, or it’s contemporary “urban flava” that is all the stuff that became popular after I left college. Thus, musically, I get caught in space that either make me feel old, or out of touch. If I had felt moved to dance, and perhaps flirt a bit, I probably could have passed a couple hours there and gone home feeling well-spent, but as it was it only added to the out-of-synch feeling that dogged me throughout the night – I was out of synch with the boyfriend, who was tired and out of sorts and wanted an early bedtime, I was out of synch with the crowd at Drunk and Horny, and I left feeling out of synch with the whole vibe of gay San Francisco on a Saturday night. I went home to the last resort of many gay men who find that their Saturday has not gone quite the way they would like; I checked out some online porn, took care of business, had a drink and a Vicodin, and passed out on the couch watching episodes of Futurama.
When Sunday dawned I was still feeling kinda geeked out from the night before, but this was the day of the kitty. On my way to feed a friend’s cat, I got a call from the boyfriend, who had gone to the gym, telling me that there was a cat rescue service with kittens down at Castro and 18th. Our plan had been to go check out the kittens at Macy’s, but after he called I knew exactly how the day would turn out. Sure enough, by 3PM we had obtained an Abyssinean kitten (now named Disco Biscuit, Disco to his friends, Mr. Biscuit to you), I had had my first experience in a Castro pet store (nothing will make you feel more bourgeois, I assure you), and our friend Kitty had come over to meet our newest family member. Up until that point I had been firmly determined to check out French Kiss at Pink that evening, but now, staying home and bonding with my new friend seemed more important, and more appealing, than another night out on my own.
I had Monday off, and it was a day of reflection. I had started the weekend with definite party agenda, but, in the end, had only really gone out to one event on it. Instead, it was the spontaneous moments of going exploring with the boyfriend, meeting up with friends to hang out in their or our apartment, and those moments of bonding around our new kitten that had seemed the most satisfying to me. When I thought about how unhappy I had been on Saturday night, I realized it wasn’t because I had gone out by myself – I’ve done that often enough, and the boyfriend even thinks that my spirit of adventure in doing so is an admirable quality – but because I had felt so sunk down within myself. I had wanted connection, and fun, and adventure, and instead I only wound up feeling alienated. It put the point to something that I’ve felt for a long time – that the only reason for going out is to have that sense of connection to others through the sharing of experience; when going out is just about “making the scene” it’s an ultimately shallow experience. You’re there, but that’s it, and in your “thereness” you realize just how alone you are (the being of being in being is awfully painful, as you Heideggerians know). If there’s good music and dancing I can feel myself in connection with something else, and with other people, but if all that I’m doing is standing around with a drink in my hand, then I might as well go home. As another long holiday approaches I hope I’ll have more opportunities for experiences that bring me closer to others, whether they’re in a club or just hanging out with the people I want to know.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Event Review: Friday Night on Polkstrasse, Bender at The Transfer
The thing about being a socialite and man-about-town is that it's often an exhausting affair; every Friday and Saturday there is at least one command performance and one optional activity that need or should be taken in, and during this time of year, when I discover that I'm surrounded by Scorpios who all celebrate their birthdays on the same Fridays, the pace is just maddening. A case in point is this past Friday, when the boyfriend and I had to undertake a series of carefully timed surgical strikes at Kimo's, The Cinch, and the Transfer to make sure we fulfilled all our of required social duties.
First there was Kimo's, where an ex-housemate and bandmate of the boyfriend was playing with his band Smile Brigade. I don't think I've been to Kimo's before; I'm sure I would have remembered the smell of the upstairs if I had. We hung out and had a couple drinks while the boyfriend and his buddy, Jeremy, caught up on things like touring, marriages, and tales of other Seattle-ites. We had wanted to catch their set but, this being the world of indie bands, everything was running an hour late, and we still had to see Frieda Laye for her birthday at the Cinch before we could wind up our night at The Transfer. We left there around 10.30 and trooped up the Polkstrasse, only to remember that drag queen time has much in common with indie rock time; we had another drink, then the birthday girl and Juanita Fajita showed up just before we had to head out the door again. This was too bad, as it was shaping up to be yet another fun night of Charlie Horse antics - the boyfriend and I had both already been on the receiving end of some serious flirtation, including a little making out on the back patio, and there were alternaqueers and Burner boys all around.
We arrived at The Transfer around 11.30. Last month's Bender had been quite an affair, and this one was every bit as lively. Kid Hack of Electropolis was on deck spinning electro when we first arrived, there was an underwear-clad go-go boy strutting around on the benches (DJ6 later told me that their regularly scheduled go-gos had failed to show up, but this boy spontaneously volunteered to fill the gap - yep, it's that kind of party), and a very friendly and fun mixed, though predominantly queer, crowd. I think Bender is probably the best no-cover Castro monthly going right now, so you should mark your calendars for the second Friday of the month and come check it out. Lord Kook will be the guest DJ next month, on Friday December 14, bringing in a harder, more electro set than he could get away with during his old residency at Drunk and Horny.
We wound out our night with a lifesaving burger at Sparky's; somewhere between one drink at The Cinch and the two I had at The Transfer I wound up being teeteringly drunk. It was a fun evening, though, one of the few times when I can say that all three of my destinations were places I would have gladly passed the entirety of the evening.
First there was Kimo's, where an ex-housemate and bandmate of the boyfriend was playing with his band Smile Brigade. I don't think I've been to Kimo's before; I'm sure I would have remembered the smell of the upstairs if I had. We hung out and had a couple drinks while the boyfriend and his buddy, Jeremy, caught up on things like touring, marriages, and tales of other Seattle-ites. We had wanted to catch their set but, this being the world of indie bands, everything was running an hour late, and we still had to see Frieda Laye for her birthday at the Cinch before we could wind up our night at The Transfer. We left there around 10.30 and trooped up the Polkstrasse, only to remember that drag queen time has much in common with indie rock time; we had another drink, then the birthday girl and Juanita Fajita showed up just before we had to head out the door again. This was too bad, as it was shaping up to be yet another fun night of Charlie Horse antics - the boyfriend and I had both already been on the receiving end of some serious flirtation, including a little making out on the back patio, and there were alternaqueers and Burner boys all around.
We arrived at The Transfer around 11.30. Last month's Bender had been quite an affair, and this one was every bit as lively. Kid Hack of Electropolis was on deck spinning electro when we first arrived, there was an underwear-clad go-go boy strutting around on the benches (DJ6 later told me that their regularly scheduled go-gos had failed to show up, but this boy spontaneously volunteered to fill the gap - yep, it's that kind of party), and a very friendly and fun mixed, though predominantly queer, crowd. I think Bender is probably the best no-cover Castro monthly going right now, so you should mark your calendars for the second Friday of the month and come check it out. Lord Kook will be the guest DJ next month, on Friday December 14, bringing in a harder, more electro set than he could get away with during his old residency at Drunk and Horny.
We wound out our night with a lifesaving burger at Sparky's; somewhere between one drink at The Cinch and the two I had at The Transfer I wound up being teeteringly drunk. It was a fun evening, though, one of the few times when I can say that all three of my destinations were places I would have gladly passed the entirety of the evening.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Event Review: Bender at The Transfer
After Fujiya and Miyagi the boyfriend and I headed over to The Transfer at Church and Market for the opening night of Bender, brought to you by the same crew that produces Lucky Pierre at The Stud. We got there around 1AM, so there wasn't much time left for drinks, dancing, and partying, but it was the perfect nightcap for our big Friday night out.
When we arrived the bar was packed, with a busy dance floor and crazy impromptu go-go dancing by both boys and girls up on the benches as DJ6 laid out synth-driven electro tracks. In the hour we had left we danced, drank, took pix in the photo booth, and eventually were shooed out with the rest of the exhausted partiers when the lights came up. It was a very fun scene, and while not as jam-packed with scenesters as the Honey Sound System or Frisco Disco parties at the same location, it was a great place to pop in, have some drinks, dance, and round out a most excellent evening that reminded me of why I got into electronic music and clubbing in the first place.
Bender is every second Friday at The Transfer, and is recommended by the Jaded Gay DJ as a great no-cover way to spend a Friday evening. I only wish they'd get rid of that damned pool table in the middle of what would otherwise be great dance space.
When we arrived the bar was packed, with a busy dance floor and crazy impromptu go-go dancing by both boys and girls up on the benches as DJ6 laid out synth-driven electro tracks. In the hour we had left we danced, drank, took pix in the photo booth, and eventually were shooed out with the rest of the exhausted partiers when the lights came up. It was a very fun scene, and while not as jam-packed with scenesters as the Honey Sound System or Frisco Disco parties at the same location, it was a great place to pop in, have some drinks, dance, and round out a most excellent evening that reminded me of why I got into electronic music and clubbing in the first place.
Bender is every second Friday at The Transfer, and is recommended by the Jaded Gay DJ as a great no-cover way to spend a Friday evening. I only wish they'd get rid of that damned pool table in the middle of what would otherwise be great dance space.
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?
Friday, July 13, 2007
Mix to Download: Girls Night Out by Richie Panic and Goldchains
Richie Panic of the Frisco Disco at the Transfer, and local legend Gold Chains, have been teaming up to create these mixes for "drinking and driving and getting ready for the clubs." They've been hard at work making their edits and other tweaks to all these tunes, so you all should find plenty here to get you in da mood.
Richie Panic and Gold Chains Present "Girls Night Out"
Richie Panic and Gold Chains Present "Girls Night Out"
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.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Upcoming Event: Last Double Dutch Disco at The Transfer, Sunday May 27
You may remember that waaaaay back in February I reported on the sale of The Transfer and speculated about what would happen with some of the more established nights, like Double Dutch Disco, with the change in management. Well, last night I was talking with a friend of Bus Station John (and, for once, managed to keep my yap shut and not get into an argument about the meaning of disco in the gay scene) and found out that this Sunday, May 27, will be the last Double Dutch Disco at The Transfer (and even the Transfer's myspace page is gone - most mysterious). I never went to this party (if I didn't like The Rod I really doubted I would like DDD) but it has generally been well received by everybody else and I know of several people who say that it's their favorite night out in the city. So, if you've been interested but putting it off, now is the time, and with a holiday on Monday I'm sure this party will be cranked up to 11.
In other, better news, Bus Station John, who was burned out of his apartment by someone flipped out on shrooms, has enjoyed the benefits of two fundraising events and seems to have himself situated for the summer. I don't know of any fund currently being collected for him, but if anyone else does please let me know and I will be happy to both publicize it and contribute.
In other, better news, Bus Station John, who was burned out of his apartment by someone flipped out on shrooms, has enjoyed the benefits of two fundraising events and seems to have himself situated for the summer. I don't know of any fund currently being collected for him, but if anyone else does please let me know and I will be happy to both publicize it and contribute.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Upcoming Event: Benefit for Bus Station John at The Transfer, Saturday May 5
I caught a small item in Larry-Bob's Queer Things to do in San Francisco that said Bus Station John had recently been burned out of his apartment. And so this Saturday there is a benefit for BSJ at The Transfer, starting at 9PM, with the DJs from Starbooty. It's $5. BSJ's parties aren't my cup of tea, but he has done his part for San Francisco gay club culture, and, from all reports, is a very nice guy, so if you're in the Castro Saturday night, stop by the Transfer, have a drink, and help a guy out.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Bar Review: The Transfer
The Transfer, as befits a bar at the crossroads of a MUNI bus and underground line, suffers from something of an identity crisis. Originally the last stop for the hungry ghosts that prowled the Castro at all hours of the day and night, a place so dismal that the one time I entered to use the ATM I felt like I had been sucked down into a Virgilian Hades, the bar was bought about two and a half years ago by Castro entertainment and hospitality mogul Greg Bronstein. He spruced it up, cleaned out the cobwebs, put a cheeky graffiti mural on the back wall, and installed real windows that let in the sunshine and chased the vampires away. The manager at the time, Shawn, had a great relationship with a number of local promoters, and thus Bus Station John established a base in the Castro with his Double Dutch Disco parties, Cock Block appeared for the girls, and there was a steady stream of party nights that transformed The Transfer into a new bar full of hip young things. Then, several months ago, Bronstein sold the bar, fired Shawn, and the whole identity of the bar was brought into question. Ask a gay guy about it and he might say “Oh, isn’t that a straight bar now,” while a straight guy would probably say “Oh, isn’t that a gay bar?” Bus Station John still does Double Dutch Disco parties there every first Sunday, but the bar also hosts bar nights for Mission hipsters riding fixies, and it looks like Cock Block is moving on to Fat City. As for the other parties, they’ve come and gone so quickly that they never had a chance establish themselves or even pull up the bar’s reputation with their own. So what kind of bar is it? Depends on the day of the week and month, it seems.
The bar itself rally has little to distinguish it – there’s a bar, and a pool table, some bench seating built around the pool table like you’d find in any gay bar, some tables and tall chairs for perching, and filthy, filthy bathrooms. A lot of money and effort has gone into the DJ setup and on my last visit, during Refuge by the Staple crew (which is also moving on to other venues), there was a nice set of Mackie speakers for sound. But I don’t understand how this bar turns into a dance space, or if it really even does. Without moving the pool table the dance space is smaller than UndergroundSF, and there’s not much in the way of seating beyond the bar itself on the other side of the room. Move the pool table and the space opens up, but all the real action here seems to be at the bar. So, is it a bar or a dance club? It’s definitely the former, and wants to be the latter, but I haven’t seen it take off yet.
This bar is three blocks from my apartment and yet I’ve rarely set foot inside because I have no idea what’s going on with it. If I want an easy drink there’s the Pilser at equal distance, with a back patio that’s much nicer than sitting inside when the weather’s good. If I want to go dancing there are plenty of other options, though they might be further away. So what does The Transfer have to offer that other bars don’t? I dunno, if you all have an answer, let me know.
The bar itself rally has little to distinguish it – there’s a bar, and a pool table, some bench seating built around the pool table like you’d find in any gay bar, some tables and tall chairs for perching, and filthy, filthy bathrooms. A lot of money and effort has gone into the DJ setup and on my last visit, during Refuge by the Staple crew (which is also moving on to other venues), there was a nice set of Mackie speakers for sound. But I don’t understand how this bar turns into a dance space, or if it really even does. Without moving the pool table the dance space is smaller than UndergroundSF, and there’s not much in the way of seating beyond the bar itself on the other side of the room. Move the pool table and the space opens up, but all the real action here seems to be at the bar. So, is it a bar or a dance club? It’s definitely the former, and wants to be the latter, but I haven’t seen it take off yet.
This bar is three blocks from my apartment and yet I’ve rarely set foot inside because I have no idea what’s going on with it. If I want an easy drink there’s the Pilser at equal distance, with a back patio that’s much nicer than sitting inside when the weather’s good. If I want to go dancing there are plenty of other options, though they might be further away. So what does The Transfer have to offer that other bars don’t? I dunno, if you all have an answer, let me know.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Event Review: Refuge at The Transfer
Refuge, put together by Fil Latorre and DJ Javaight aka the Staple crew, featuring Jeno, was a great exploration of "future house and deep techno," though the union of this music with the space of The Transfer bar was less than ideal.
It's always a good sign when you hear two different DJs at the same party play tracks you own, serving as it does as confirmation of your own good taste and that you are indeed in the presence of like-minded individuals. When DJ Javaight laid down Kiki's "Trust Me," and then Jeno later played "You Got Good Ash" by Marek Bois, I had one of those brief moments of feeling not only in synch with what was around me, but that something I had been following for a long time was finally being taken up by others; for the Staple crew I think this would be described in terms of "deepness," a more thoughtful, almost hypnotic approach to techno and tech house that features very smooth mixes and blends between tracks. As much as I love the Kontrol DJs I've always felt that they had something of a tendency toward squonk for squonk's sake, and as they moved on to The EndUp their sound has taken on more of a traditional house sound. In the tracks that Javaight and Fil Latorre laid down you can still hear the house throb, but there were also harder, darker elements that experiment with more artificial, trance-like sonic textures, as well as the occasional saw-tooth bassline, that move you away from the at times almost sacchrine, sleep-inducing feeling of pure deep house.
Unfortunately, The Transfer did not turn out to be the place to really appreciate this music. I arrived with the boyfriend, Kitty, and our friend J around 10 PM, and at that time there was a good crowd around the bar, but the only other place to sit and chill was either on a poorly placed sofa below the windows (where, everytime you tried to lean back, you knocked your noggin on the drink shelf), or back behind the pool table. We settled in and tried to make ourselves comfortable while awaiting for the crowd to arrive, but that never really happened. I would have expected that with Jeno on the bill there would have been a big crowd, and while some dedicated house heads did come through the doors later, most of the action was confined to the bar area. The beats were good enough to get your hips moving, but they didn't even move the pool table out of the way until 11.30, so no real dance energy ever materialized. Even worse, for a supposed gay bar, the crowd was almost entirely straight. I'm not sure what it takes to get gay men out of their musical ghetto, but evidently you can put good music in a cheap, convenient location that's well-known and it's still not enough to keep them from rehashing the same stuff that's been served to them for the past twenty years.
The Staple crew is moving on from The Transfer with their next two events, Sabotage at Anu on the 10th of May, and then a party with Kenny Larkin at the RxGallery on May 11. I'll personally be anxious to see how they carry through with their sonic explorations in a space, and with a crowd, that is more attuned to their vibe.
It's always a good sign when you hear two different DJs at the same party play tracks you own, serving as it does as confirmation of your own good taste and that you are indeed in the presence of like-minded individuals. When DJ Javaight laid down Kiki's "Trust Me," and then Jeno later played "You Got Good Ash" by Marek Bois, I had one of those brief moments of feeling not only in synch with what was around me, but that something I had been following for a long time was finally being taken up by others; for the Staple crew I think this would be described in terms of "deepness," a more thoughtful, almost hypnotic approach to techno and tech house that features very smooth mixes and blends between tracks. As much as I love the Kontrol DJs I've always felt that they had something of a tendency toward squonk for squonk's sake, and as they moved on to The EndUp their sound has taken on more of a traditional house sound. In the tracks that Javaight and Fil Latorre laid down you can still hear the house throb, but there were also harder, darker elements that experiment with more artificial, trance-like sonic textures, as well as the occasional saw-tooth bassline, that move you away from the at times almost sacchrine, sleep-inducing feeling of pure deep house.
Unfortunately, The Transfer did not turn out to be the place to really appreciate this music. I arrived with the boyfriend, Kitty, and our friend J around 10 PM, and at that time there was a good crowd around the bar, but the only other place to sit and chill was either on a poorly placed sofa below the windows (where, everytime you tried to lean back, you knocked your noggin on the drink shelf), or back behind the pool table. We settled in and tried to make ourselves comfortable while awaiting for the crowd to arrive, but that never really happened. I would have expected that with Jeno on the bill there would have been a big crowd, and while some dedicated house heads did come through the doors later, most of the action was confined to the bar area. The beats were good enough to get your hips moving, but they didn't even move the pool table out of the way until 11.30, so no real dance energy ever materialized. Even worse, for a supposed gay bar, the crowd was almost entirely straight. I'm not sure what it takes to get gay men out of their musical ghetto, but evidently you can put good music in a cheap, convenient location that's well-known and it's still not enough to keep them from rehashing the same stuff that's been served to them for the past twenty years.
The Staple crew is moving on from The Transfer with their next two events, Sabotage at Anu on the 10th of May, and then a party with Kenny Larkin at the RxGallery on May 11. I'll personally be anxious to see how they carry through with their sonic explorations in a space, and with a crowd, that is more attuned to their vibe.
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