The Juice Box

Rating: 2.5 out of 5 bottles of water

by Leif Wauters

You know the song “Things Can Only Get Better”? Well, that’s the best way to describe the Sydney Mardi Gras Party after a dismal 2010 edition.

After a couple of days in Brisbane with the in-laws, Morris and I were ready for an exciting night of stellar production, kickin’ music and world-class entertainment with our friends Steve, Mike, Matt and many others. We arrived early as to avoid the rush. Although we succeeded in that, we were strangely met head on by throngs of footy fans leaving a game directly next to Fox Studios. I’m sure the convergence was as odd to them as it was horny to us; all those worked up blokes. But there were no incidents that I saw and the prisoner exchange went well.

Slipping through the gates was an easy affair, despite the press that there would be packs of sniffer-dogs keen on the partiers’ demise. We passed only one that was so busy scanning the crotches of the rapid passer-bys I don’t know how it could have caught anyone. I think it was a ruse and they were looking more for peoples’ reactions to the dog than the dog’s reaction. Sneaky.

Once in we took a tour of the entire complex, starting with the RHI (Royal Hall of Industries). This is where the main DJs and performances were to be. This hall has historically been a spectacle of staging and lights, with the DJ perched above the crowd at the head of the long hall and a massive stage flanking the other end. This year, however, was quite a change-up. The DJ’s deck was still high above at one end, but the stage was a giant, Mayan-looking structure in the center of the dance-floor, biting off almost 10% of the space necessary for the approximately 10,000 people who would normally stock the room. It had three levels for dancers and an ambiguously ancient motif. Above it were four triangular panels that were raised and lowered during the night, the only moving rigging I could find, despite the promotion that moving lighting rigs were returning to the RHI this year. But the staging and rigging were only the beginning of the evening’s disappointments.

Continuing our tour we went on to the Horden where faster, progressive music and fantastic lasers are usually the norm. In the center, hung a unique mobile of inverted mirror balls. A series of columns lowered from the ceiling with satellite dish-looking bowls with mirrors inside. No doubt another creation by would-famous Sydney local Peter Glikshtern. Around the mirrored jewel coiled a giant banner promoting the History of the World, the theme for this year’s event and a canvas onto which they would project laser messages during the evening.

We quickly spun through the Dome – the dark, fetish space – that was yet to take off but was sure to be the site of some antics later, and then checked out the Forum that would be home to live music, before returning to the RHI to stake out a spot and enjoy the building energy as people arrived. Along the way there were a dozen or so hellos as we gathered up a few more mates before landing below the DJ booth.

I’m just going to come out and say it: Bimbo Jones sucked. I have serious doubts the DJ selection committee juried the talent at all this year and that they only hired them based of their names and stature as producers. As the opening DJ, not only did he fail to build and/or maintain the energy, but he’d dance in the booth with his hands in the air as if there was some strange, ambient drive to the drop-outs he was repeatedly throwing at us. There was a few recognizable songs, but certainly not the happy, hands-in-the-air tracks required for that point in the night. I’d ask what he was thinking, but I’d really rather not know. As if understanding the mind of a killer would somehow make me one as well, God forbid I come to understand and appreciate a bad DJ.

The first break in the music was a brief, yet uninspiring, welcome speech by the co-chairs of New Mardi Gras. It was soon followed by the first performance of the night by a gaggle of drag queens and dancers to a mash-up of “Let’s Get This Party Started” and “History Repeating”. It was a fine attempt, but demonstrated that the impact of the center stage was visually disappointing.

DJ Dan Murphy look over after that, but by then we needed a break from disappointing music and fled, along with many others, over to the Horden when Carl Cox was banging out fun, meaty tracks. They weren’t the epic sing-alongs you would expect in the RHI, but they were weaved together with skill and kept the bodies moving. The room was packed to the seated risers on three sides that were also full of people taking a break from dancing or who just wanted a better vantage point. While boogying in that room we made some new friends, ran into others, caught an aerial performance by The Amazing (and very furry) Ari, and reveled in the energy that was lacking along our other stops.

We returned to the RHI to hear the big number, George Michael. It took a while for him to come on and by the time it happened the room was packed! Once the muscled, police-looking dancers flooded the platforms we knew what was coming, but as the song “Outside” began, we were subjected to a drag-king replacement until half way through the number when George took over for the last 5 minutes. After wrapping up what would be his only number, he shouted for us to go “f*@k ourselves silly” and left the stage. So much build up for so little show. Sure, it was great to see him and he looks and sounds great, but one more number would have been really appreciated. Of well. I hope HE had fun.

We fled back to the Horden and returned just before Dan handed the reigns over to global super-star David Guetta who ushered in his set with the best performance of the night – Kelly Rowland singing “When Love Takes Over”. Mo and I had particular reason to enjoy this moment as the wedding theme of the performance mirrored the beginning our holiday. She worked up the crowd with love and energy, despite the occasional weak vocal moments. It was a hug-fest for sure, and the best moment of David’s otherwise dismal set. Yet another example of a producer making a lousy DJ. Can anyone remember Hex Hector’s moment two years before? I guess the New Mardi Gras committee has a short memory for the history of their own party, despite promoting the History of the World. We trudged through about 20 minutes of his rapidly declining music until we made a final switch to the Horden before calling it a night at 4 AM.

32 years of throwing what’s been touted as the greatest LGBT celebration on Earth, and the New Mardi Gras committee tossed out a generally abysmal year. I feel for my partner for whom this was his first, as he is now inclined to give it a skip in the future, not knowing the magic and power it can possess. I also relate to other veterans who were driven early from the event because their hopes of an upturn in the energy never materialized. Sure there were thousands of people there with huge smiles and acres of silliness to be had, but the RHI to me has been and always will be the heart of Sydney Mardi Gras, and this year it was barely beating.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 bottles of water

by Leif Wauters

In the midst of Sydney Mardi Gras bedlam, bears have laid their paws on the week with a run of fun events that mark Bear Essentials 14. Wednesday night marked the traditionally crazed and sweaty Underbear party. There are lots of Underbear parties around the world. Bearracuda’s got ‘em, Lazy Bear has a version, but the Harbour City Bears put on the meanest – or friendliest as you want to see it – daddy of them all.

The Sydney clubbing landmark, Arq, used to be home to this furfest, but it’s now moved to another subterranean space down the road called the Oxford Art Factory. Mo and I arrived half past 10 PM to the smiling faces of friends we had yet to run into on our visit. As there’s no smoking in the club, it was funny to see guys milling about the sidewalk in loaner bathrobes so the could light up.

Down a long, spiral flight of stairs we arrived at the entrance to the “arrival room” where we were handed trash…erm…clothes bags for all but our skivvies. We squeezed our way through the rather unengaging front space to where the clothes check was. Well, it was more of a cross-roads between the front and main rooms and the bathrooms where the clothes check was. It was a pretty bad mash-up where it was hard to even grab some wall to change against. Add to that club security continuously clearing the doorways and stripping down was a bit of a challenge.

After dropping our duds, we pushed our way into the main room where local DJ stud-pup, Matt Effect, was already heating up the wall-to-wall kernels who were ready to pop! Watching Matt on stage dancing to his pumpin’ selections, it was hard to keep from moving as well. The only thing that kept Mo and I from kicking it up with our boogying brethren was all the socializing, as we were catching up with friends and familiar faces. Circling the handsome, choka dance-floor, we caught a couple of fun tracks with friends before escaping to the club’s crossroads for some air and an inevitable exit. Sadly we didn’t get to catch much of our friend Robbie’s Australian explosion as we had a full day on tap the next morning and needed to hang on to what wits we had.

All and all, it was successful installment of this not-to-be-missed dream-dance for bears, despite the inescapable challenges of the space. Note to selves – don’t plan to meet your in-laws for the first time the day after this frisky, belly ball. Hooray to the Harbour City Bears for churning out another sold-out year for this banner event.

March has arrived and that means it is time for the Winter Party in Miami. I know a few followers are heading out of town for some warm weather and a little dance time at the legendary pool and beach parties that come with the Winter Party in Miami.On the other side of the world it is Mardi Gras Weekend in Sydney and that means the amazing night of dancing for Mardi Gras followed by Toy Box and the Juice Box has representation at these famous parties as well.

Back here in San Francisco, Furr returns to Club Eight for Saturday night as well as the Bearracuda Underwear Party, and Palace to the Cafe on Sunday as well as a new party called Heaven. Safe travels to everyone heading to destinations outside of San Francisco, enjoy your parties and juice up that nightlife for us here in San Francisco.