I must say something about a recent event I attended that was probably the most fun I've had in a night out on the town in a very long time, and that event was the Second Annual Miss Trannyshack Pageant held at the spacious and legendary Trocadero a couple weeks ago. Trannyshack, having packed the Stud bar to the rafters nearly every Tuesday for a couple years now showcasing fabulous drag performances, had to resort to a larger venue for this grand event, especially after having to turn people away from the event last year in droves. Heklina, Pippi, Juanita More, and the rest of the Tranny-clan knew they had a monster on their hands and special measures had to be taken in order for this fine spectacle to be successful, enjoyable and comfortable for the audience and performers, and not turn into a bloodbath, crowd hysteria or a mass alcoholic blackout, not that this group of folks aren't fully and completely used to that latter situation. In fact some train for this state every Tuesday, bless their pickled hearts,
spackled faces and hit-the-floor determination to not really remember how they got home. Trannyshack and The Miss Trannyshack Pageant is an institution as worthy and delightful as any of the great drag events in other major metropolitan areas, replete with colorful and excessive regular characters and clever originators. No doubt it could become the subject of yet another documentary by yet another young independent gay film-maker at yet another Gay and Lesbian Film Festival. Whenever something this fun or exciting is going on, one tends to hope it's being recorded in some way for the archives, for a sense of history, an aspect that for obvious reasons, Gays tend to lose sight of.
Speaking of a sense of history, the assembled crowd at the pageant was made up of many old friends whom I hadn't seen out, all of us in one place on a Saturday night, in possibly 3 or 4 years. It was delightful, even warm and fuzzy-feeling if you can imagine the ever-cynical nasty me feeling sentimental about such things. But I was, and it was nice being surrounded by a veritable Who's Who of prominent SF Nightlifers and Performers and Activists, early 90's editions. Oh the crazy things we did. The entire Trannyshack phenomenon seemed a natural legacy, a tradition carried on with finesse and a lot of work by Heklina and Pippi, both looking positively smashing that night. Heklina wore a very unique Mr. David creation that defied comparison to any known fashion structure I could come up with, but somehow combined looks from both Auntie Mame and Barbarella. Mr. David is a genius. I must also say that it's been a long time since I've seen so many handsome young men assembled in one place, fans of the Trans.
I won't go in to full detail because the event has already been covered but I can't sum up without saying that 1996
Miss Trannyshack The Steve Lady, put on the most magical multi-media spectacle of awe, attitude and total beauty of the entire night. And she did so at the top of the
evening, before all of this years contestants made their own bid for the title. Rightfully put in their humble places, The Steve Lady while relinquishing her title, clearly established to this years contestants, all people present, and--by word of mouth-- even those not present, that she is undoubtedly Queen of The Night. FOREVER! She's the
most ravishing splendid creature alive, hands down. All Hail. How can she be such Total Godhead? The Steve Lady is a miracle. The night unfolded at a healthy pace, hilights including Heklina's reworking of the B52's song "Loveshack" into "Trannyshack" with hilariously base lyrics about blacking out and the age-old tranny credo of "so hurry up and give us all your money."I also would like to note the twisted awesome sounds coming from DJ Robeena Diet Biscuit. He's managed to grow since the beginning of Trannyshack from unsettlingly kitschy weirdness and pop-cultural fright relics to a stylistically smooth amalgam of, well, these things still, but it sounds more congruous and appropriate to the wild world of Trannyshack, like the perfect soundtrack, or the music and voices that a person descending into madness might hear. He uses samples of dialogue from movies and television and plays things faster or slower than normal and it's really quite crafty and sick. Impressive. As was his incredible vocal performance at the end of the night when the judges were making their decision. What a pleasant surprise it was for Robbie to remind us all that he is indeed an extraordinary performance artist and that he's kind of been laying low in that department lately. Finally, a hearty congratulations to Miss Trannyshack 1997, Nikki Star, who lip-synced a medley so long and so fervently it wowed the judges to declare her winner. I love that point when gross excess transforms into frenzied high comedy. She ended the epic dramatic fury of song with a running somersault and the lips didn't miss a quiver. Bravo, and Bravo to Trannyshack for such a grand entertaining extravaganza in true San Francisco style. The following week I got a taste of entertainment in the style of another great city when the New York-based band/possible musical sensation--next big thing, Jonathan Fire*Eater hit SF's Great American Music Hall touring in support of their second LP, their first for the Dreamscape label, Wolf Songs For Lambs. For awhile now there's been quite a buzz going about this band of five young and privileged prep school boys (three were students at Columbia, one at Bard and one at Sarah Lawrence) who took the East Village by storm with their odd and passionate farfisa-enhanced punchy rocking-retro sounds. I missed their previous shows in SF but bought all their records which I find very enjoyable and fun. The only real flaw or undesirable quality I found in their recorded work was that after awhile each song sounds a little too much like the one before it, but taken in small doses, my interest was quite piqued by their engaging and taut musical tension and abstract sense of humor. I also have a real fondness for the farfisa organ and people respond very well to this band when I DJ. I was very excited about the show. After arriving and being made to wait an extra long "we're big stars now, they 'll wait" time for the quintet to take the stage, the band filtered out one at a time and started playing, adding an instrument at a time to the growing churning swell of sound. Finally the vocalist came out last and just one look told you why that might be. He looked so very much like he had just gotten so very high, kind of like the way John Travolta looks in that scene in Pulp Fiction when he's driving. I know it's not fair for me to say that, chances are I'm completely wrong. He may have just been acting like he was high, like the way David Yow of Jesus Lizard always appears to be drunk while onstage when he's really not. Nonetheless, his hanging-on-the-microphone-stand posture, that light
glistening of perspiration creeping over his face and the vibrating intensity of his vocal delivery, had "smack-induced" written all over him. That's not to say he wasn't good, quite the contrary, this is a fine vocalist and a great
frontman. Romantic and romanticizing, so there. He never pulled his sleeves up once. Another inescapable attribute of this band is their youthful, fresh and smouldering good looks. I must say, in this respect they took my breath away. Totally. If Sassy magazine were still cool and still around Jonathan Fire*Eater would definitely rate a Cute Band Alert. The guitarist was my
favorite, and an absorbingly dark and hard instrumentalist as well. The drummer was a huge bundle of energy, hitting hard and seeming like he couldn't act dour or jaded or unamused if he tried, grinning at every fifth beat, unable to conceal his glee. The organist was very subdued and seated at his keyboard yet his playing often slammed the overall sound to it's hardest hitting point or even it's moodiest and most atmospheric. I found the band's arrangements to be far more original and innovative live, and much less likely to be described as retro, which I have. Overall, for one of those "next big thing" bands, they played a very
musically adept and tight set. They weren't weak, save for that same flaw I find with their records--after awhile the songs sound a little to much like each other. Just a little. The vocalist very slowly introduced a song, "This one's called "I Changed My Hotel," it's autobiographical and it is not open to interpretation.
