Flat on its back, dead in the grass, all but forgotten, but still there, nonetheless.
Archive for the nightlife Category
Dear readers, I know I’ve been away for a while. And in my absence, much has changed. The beloved Eagle Tavern has closed for good, along with the Ace Cafe, both apparently falling under greed’s mighty axe. St. Mary’s pub has been sanitized to a hipster friendly sparkle, and Skip’s Tavern has been reincarnated as The Lucky Horseshoe.
If one can make a horseshoe lucky by simply stripping off the rust, shiny San Francisco should have good fortune to spare.
But I’m not so superstitious.
While I was digging up the graveyard last night, I found this old flier for a show at the Trocadero back in ’97. Back then it seemed like there was live music going on everywhere! I never thought SOMA would ever become such a douchebag’s paradise.
C’est la vie.
One winter, years ago, I was at the Elbo Room for Anton LaVey’s daughter Karla’s annual Black X-mas party. Upon my arrival upstairs, a random, small toilet plunger flew from out of nowhere like a me-seeking missile, and bounced hilariously off of my chest. A direct hit! As I turned, laughing, to head back towards the stage, Miss LaVey (who also seemed to come from out of nowhere) bumped smack into me and spilled my drink all over my shoes. Apologies, names, and pleasantries were exchanged, then, with no more than a snap of her fingers, she had my drink replaced. And she even made it a double!
And THAT, kids, is the story of how I was baptized by the sweetheart Spawn of Satan(ists).
Now, please enjoy this video of Anton LaVey’s hauntingly beautiful rendition of the suicide classic, “Gloomy Sunday,” set to scenes from Polanski’s masterpiece of madness, Repulsion. It’s the final track off of his album Strange Music (which can be heard in its entirety here), and features the vocals of his then special lady friend, Blanche Barton. It’s amazing.
Big thanks to icoulddietomorrow for turning me on to this treasure.
I would like to share with you today a great fucking song about my beloved city by the infamous Black Randy, off the album “Pass the Dust, I Think I’m Bowie.” The vocals are a little hard to understand at times, (like good punk should be,) so I have posted the lyrics below. Enjoy!
Golden Gate and I’m ready to jump
San Francisco, you’re playland at the dump
Cable cars gone to rust
Skinny faggots smoking dust
Many boys on Castro Street
Lumberjacks are fun to meet
Late at night they like the Stud
Buffet suppers, foodstamp crud
10 to 12, at the disco
12 to 2, fetch the Crisco
Some of them are masters
Some of them are slaves
Some wanna do it in freshly opened graves
All the drugs I bought did not get me high
Til I met a guy at the Mabuhay
He was very kind, he gave me some green pills
We saw the Avengers and part of the Dils
Ran into a guy with lipstick and a beard
When he took me home it was everything I feared
He lived in a house, it was runs by ferns
We sprayed their leaves and we polished their urns
The ferns were anarchists quoting Chairman Mao
Now I want to leave but I don’t know how.
. . .
-Me neither, Randy… me neither.
Photo by Dave Van Hulsteyn
#1 – The Sign
#2 – Leather Tongue Video
Photo by Slowburn
#3 – The Epicenter Zone
#4 – The Chameleon (Formerly The Chatterbox)
#5 – Mission Records
#6 - Hunt’s Donuts
#7 – Live at Leeds!
Photo courtesy of MissionMission
#8 – The Vats
#9 – The Tip Top Inn
#11- The Architecture
Photo by Anomalous_A
#12 – The Farm
#14 – The Quonset Hut
#15- Omer a.k.a Bum Jovi
#16 – Komotion
#17 – Iggy Scam
Photo by CleveburghUberAlles