I don’t think I’ve ever come closer to seeing the face of God than when listening to Sylvester’s manic, soaring gospel cry, “Take Me to Heaven.” It’s not a fluke. Sylvester, too, saw his music in religious terms. In the biography The Fabulous Sylvester, Joshua Gamson reveals that after a particularly transcendent show, Sylvester, along … Continue reading
“Well, fuck you! You wanna fuck me, don’t you? I know. I know. I don’t blame you. If I was all of you, I’d want to fuck me too. You don’t see too many of THESE in Dayton, do you, honey?” Who could deny the demented allure of our putrid and preeminent filth deity Divine? … Continue reading
You know all the words to Grace Jones’s Pull Up To the Bumper and you’ve probably strutted in the club to Walking In the Rain. But have you met her brother Chris Jones? Iconic in his own right, he is a musician and DJ making waves with his new eminently danceable album Strong2. We talk … Continue reading
“I want you to teach me how to be fabulous,” pleads Macaulay Culkin inhabiting the role of infamous club kid Michael Alig in 2003’s cheeseball Party Monster. In response, Seth Green’s James St. James spits back, “We have nothing in common,” picks up his metal lunchbox/purse, and changes his mind, quoting William Blake: “The road … Continue reading
I’m not used to suffering from invasive flashbacks inside a major museum. But, pulling back the heavy curtain, leading into Kenny Scharf’s Cosmic Closet, a cozy yet mind-altering intergalactic Day-Glo-painted trash utopia, I was immediately sent through a time warp to June 2011, boogying to The B-52s “Planet Claire” and Martha and the Vandellas “Jimmy … Continue reading
As most of you dearest Filthy Dreams readers know, today, June 12, is the one-year anniversary of the shootings at Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Florida, which killed 49 people who were namely LGBTQ and Latinx. Given our ongoing engagement and belief in the significance of nightlife for the queer community and communities of color, it … Continue reading
I’m a sucker for disco balls. There, I said it. If anywhere or anything includes a mirror ball, I’m immediately a fan. I’m like a moth to a shimmering, glittering flame.
But beyond my lizard brain fixation with shiny objects, disco balls can be harnessed as a complex symbol–a metaphor for community, excess, escapism, utopia, self-fashioned identity and even, safety in nightlife. Continue reading
Toot toot! Beep beep!…wait…what’s that, dearest Filthy Dreams readers? Sorry, I was just belting out disco queen and savior Donna Summer’s naughty hit “Bad Girls.” As you may have noticed, Donna has made more frequent appearances on our Filthy Dreams playlists as of late. Yes, I’ve been struck down with Summer fever! And since I’ve … Continue reading
As a connoisseur and supporter of nightlife as an important domain for activism and art in the face of judgments of its superficiality and frivolity, I naturally jumped at the chance to dive into Tim Lawrence’s recently published study of New York nightlife Life and Death on the New York Dance Floor, 1980-1983. At 600 pages, … Continue reading
Stumbling, bleary-eyed, back into the outside world, the morning after clubbing isn’t exactly the magic hour. Or at least, not typically. But, Richard Renaldi’s photographic series Manhattan Sunday not only merely captures the still-awake but not-yet-hungover post-clubbing period of 5, 6 or even 9AM, but it also glamorizes it. Continue reading