SUPER EGO Positivity can we get some, please? Sure. Zing! Spring's come bounding from its musty, dusty closet like a newly out Floridian, little rainbow fanny pack ablaze, itchy pink nipple rings jingling. Poor green thing! Isn't it up to us to lead her, tripping and grinning, into the limelight fantastica? Aren't we already there? Change, unlike Aqua Net and Paco Rabanne, is in the air. The clubs, they've gone azalea-crazy, bursting with neon irises and tuneful fuchsia streaks. Cocktails mysteriously grow stronger in our hands. And parties, parties everywhere there's far too much to do right now. Hell, my nightlife Blackberry just exploded all over my fresh electric Onitsuka Tiger shoes.
Anybody here got a Wet Ones?
"We're spinning in the pyramid of life / As day turns to night," goes a latest wriggly dance-floor burner. "I wish the stars could shine now / For they are closer / They are near," goes another. "Let's make out!" goes a third. Sex, stars, spinning, and you sounds like a few times I'd love to have. How 'bout we do the bunny hop and rock our burgundy hair at the following affairs? Oh, and bring that spring girl, too. There's always room for one more in the back.
WELCOME TO PARADISE
What do you do when you get too famous? Besides wipe up dog shit with your borrowed Chanel? How 'bout change your name and make a record? I sincerely hope you've made it at least once to two of the most regularly orgiastic parties in the city: Frisco Disco and Blow Up. If you have, then you're intimately familiar with the semi-nude gymnastics, lubed-up disco-house-electro jams, and jailbait fanbase of one DJ Jefrodesiac, our fair burg's current reigning turntable sex god.
I may just win that tiara back, though, because Jefrodesiac is dead. Metaphorically. Witness the birth of Jeffrey Paradise, his latest incarnation, who's about to release a new EP on PrinceHouse Records and make us all update our contacts. He'll be debuting this next evolution at Blow Up on Friday, April 11, which is also, somewhat confusingly, his birthday bash. Because one personality is never enough!
WILL THEY SERVE COSMOS?
I'm not sure how I feel about the space program, but hey, if the nearby NASA Ames Research Center and something rather ominously called the Space Generation Advisory Council want to cohost a big rave at Moffett Field, presenting forward-minded DJs like Amon Tobin, John Tejada, Dr. Toast, and Tycho, well, beam me up (snort). I'm talking about Yuri's Night, an astro-fantastical, techno-futuristical anniversary celebration of Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin's historic first flight into space in 1961. Yuri's Night, Saturday, April 12, is being feted this year with 153 parties in 46 countries on goddess-knows-how-many giant-screen satellite feeds, so make sure your outfit is tight. Also on the blast-off tap: a huge technology fair with zippy visual installations and electronic doodad demonstrations galore. Pack your sonic screwdriver.
Srsly, I wept when longtime San Francisco mainstay Fag Fridays ended in February and not just because my Moisture Wear wasn't quite so hypoallergenic after all. The gay and their ilk really lost something when the party shut down after 12 years, not least of all a soulful house crashpad in the weekend's early afterhours.
No more tears, though. "Girl, we couldn't wait to have a Friday off!" David Peterson, one half of Fag promoters Big Booty, exuberantly told me. Big Booty's certainly taking advantage of its free time. Peterson's Booty partner, Jose Mineros, just launched a bouncy house Saturday weekly, Collide, at the fab Club 222 (www.myspace.com/222hyde). Fag Fridays will make a special return at Mighty for Pride. And biggest of all, Big Booty just launched a new dance-music label, Thread Recordings.
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