I cried in disbelief listening to Madonna’s “I Feel So Free.” Not at first. When I initially sampled the rip of the old-school radio (yes, radio!) premiere of the first track from her upcoming album Confessions II, “I Feel So Free” came off to me as generic gay bar fare, perfect for a Hell’s Kitchen … Continue reading
Nightlife photography should be kinda bad. Technical perfection is for shut-ins with a studio or all those photographers making photographs of photographs. Nightlife photos should be out of focus and crappily framed. Heads should be lopped right off dancing bodies, fixating instead on torsos bumping and grinding into each other (and the photographer). Flashes of … Continue reading
On a warm Thursday evening, I entered a darkened bathroom stall, got on my knees, and licked. An ice cream cone, you sicko! What did you think I was eagerly lapping up?! Genuflecting devotionally in front of an oversized duct tape-encircled hole like I was praying to the spirits of toilet love past, I finally … Continue reading
A monstrous gaudy powder-white Christmas wreath, adorned with silver balls and a gigantic red bow, towers over a full bar. The ginormous wreath is flanked by metallic cut-out stars, floating down from the heavens, caught by a single string pinned to the ceiling. Partially hidden behind the pine needles like an upstaged choir are the … Continue reading
In Lucas Hilderbrand’s The Bars Are Ours; Histories and Cultures of Gay Bars in America, 1960 and After, the pictures, a collection of bar flyers, ads, photographs, gay press headlines, and various ephemera culled from fifteen years of research, are worth as much as—if not more than—the text. “Lick your way through the summer,” beckons … Continue reading
All I need is a disco ball. In life and in art. Spotting its sparkling exterior with a cursory glance toward the ceiling at any bar, concert venue, or tchotchke-covered restaurant brings a relieving, comforting sense of home. Similarly, any artwork that includes a mirror ball is immediately a favorite. Just search around this very … Continue reading
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