As if you didn't know it, it's that time of year againthat specific time when closet doors are kicked out, rainbow flags are unfurled and conservative God-fearing "Christians" develop a nasty rash that fuels their rage right up until June 2013, when it starts all over again.
And being that this is Chicago, it's also the time for festivals of every flavor for every single week of the season. To top that off, the choices for the discriminating queer are particularly wide and varied. Rufus Wainwright plays the Bank of America Theater (Aug. 8); hometown divas Jennifer Hudson and Chaka Kahn headline Taste of Chicago (Jul 11 and 14 respectively); out country queen Chely Wright hits the Backlot Bash (June 21-24); Sheena Easton, The Pointer Sisters and Olivia Newton-John invade Market Days (Aug 11-12); and Scissor Sisters cut up the weekend of the Gay Pride Parade.
So if you're not part of the homo hootenanny or out shaking your ass you've only got yourself to blame. Jeez ... even Madonna will be here after Labor Day to mark this year as, well, special. But if the queer offerings aren't enough, there are so many streetfests and easily accessible outdoor shows this season that it would be a crime to miss out. We're just two weeks into June and the Alt Q Festival, Mavis Staples closing out the Blues Fest, Milwaukee Pridefest and Graffitti6's show at Schuba's are all recent history. Get up; get the hell out for Pridefest, Backlot Bash, Chances Dances, the Dyke March, Market Days, the Gay Pride Parade, Windy City Black Pride or whatever cranks your tractorand get happy.
Speaking of the potential for this summer, the one disappointment so far was the absence of Bobby Conn during the G8 Summit. (He was on tour.) But if he and his band weren't here exhorting legions of protesters from, say, the foot of the Picasso in Daley Plaza or the main-floor concourse in the Thompson Center with his signature brand of snark rock, at least his new album, Macaroni (Fire Records), suggests rather strongly what could have been.
Conn has made a surprisingly long, varied and successful career in aiming his funk/punk/discofied art rock at politicians, the NRA., conservatives and big businessand Macaroni is far from a departure. It's brutal, satirical, snide and barbed ... just what the times need On "More Than You Need," Conn delivers the CD's most stinging jab when, in a deceptively relaxed near-falsetto he croons, "I know you've been waiting for somebody to believe in/I hate to let you know, there's no one..."
Without a trace of cynicism, Conn calmly eliminates the possibility of hope that all the tools that we've relied on (money, politics, celebrity, religion) will get us through our current worldwide malaise. Is it cold-hearted? Hardlyit comes off as an act of mercy, a sly wake-up call to the shit we're stuck in. But if "More Than..." caresses its radio-friendly hooks in sonic luxury (it would fit right in on Light FM), "Greed" is scrappy, bitter and delivered through clenched teeth. It's certainly Macaroni's centerpiece and Conn snarls with a touch of vulgarity, "I put my pinky in your DNA/It feels good but it's never enough..." Face it, you have to love a magnum opus with a chorus like, "GREED, gimme gimme...," and a hook that stays in your brain like gum stuck on your shoe.
Having seen her several times before, I still don't entirely know what to make of Teri Gender Bender of Le Butcherettes. Described on Wikipedia as a feminist Mexican garage-punk band from Guadalajara, Le Butcherettes has obviously got way more than just that happening. Bender (aka Teresa Suarez) is really into deadpan psychotic performance art with an overpowering aroma of black rude humor, and the joke is to blur where her character starts and the reality ends. For this year's edition, Bender replaced her usual fashion accessory (a blood-smeared kitchen apron) with something a bit more disturbinga figure-clinging cotton miniskirt and sensible heels.
Of course, what she had on had little to do with what was disturbing; it's what she did in the outfit. To put it politely, this woman is a looker, and though she presented herself as flawlessly as a refrigerated Macy's model once she got to the microphone she tore into her fevered Barbie-doll freak out dance with its 10,000 watt glares, twitchy head jerks and spastic body slams. "Nice-looking young ladies" aren't supposed to shriek brutal rockers like "Sick of You" while slashing their Stratocasters like bloodthirsty hellhounds devouring newborns, but Bender never said she was a "nice young lady."
This naturally compliments the music: searing guitar-driven brutality with near-elementary lyrics aimed at making the point with no room for misinterpretation. As her hair whipped back and up, Bender dug into "Dress Off," the band's most successful execution of its style. (The lyrics for the entire song are, "You want my dress off.") It didn't matter if the song was aimed at a wolf-whistling goon on the street, some touchy-feely boss man or even a husband"Dress Off" is the savage indictment of the male mindset that sees woman with all the usefulness and personality of a slice of salami.
But with all the fury and demonic body-shaking going on onstage the biggest joke was that Benderspeaking the queen's English while singingwould, after each song, bow with clasped palms and thank the audience in Spanish, like a humble peasant girl. I haven't seen anyone create and stay in character like this since Ninette of the band Powder but Bender is far more extreme, and a lot funnier for it. Where Ninettewho was built like an Amazonskewered misogyny with a winking wit, Bender and her crew go for the nuts with pliers ... and a smile. The crowd loved it; the Mexican punkers slam-danced, the young lesbians held each other tighter, and even my sweet natured wide-eyed friend Spencer (though he was a little put off) dug it. Not your typical Saturday night...
If Le Butcherettes came with the mission to divide and conquer the sexes, J.C. Brooks and the Uptown Sound came to do the opposite. The buzz on these guys is that they're the latest "hot thing" coming out of Chicago (Kids These Days, Kanye, Common, Bowersox, Hudson, Bird, blah blah). Brooks has taken the staid institution of Chicago's South Side soul and reconfigured it which is an accomplishment in itself. After all, this is the town that birthed Chaka Khan and Curtis Mayfield.
Where the cliched soul singer tends to dress to a degree in sartorial elegance designed to set him apart, Brooks hit this stage in a smart white jacket and shirt topped with his trademark tidal-wave Afro. Rather than coming off as slick, polished or removed from his audience, he created a vibe that made him thoroughly relatable.
It may have to do with Brooks being an out musician but the man knows a great deal about inclusionwhich made for quite the dance party. The opener, "Want More," was high-polished soul, frayed around the edges with the right amount of juice. The fact that it started the show on a high pitch where other "soul" bands head for the finish suggested what was coming. Yes, there were hard-edged blues ("To Love Somebody [That Don't Love You]") and unusual surprises (Wilco's "I'm Trying to Break Your Heart"), but "Baaadnews" topped everythingan unrepentant saucy rave-up that let a lover know what kind of mess they've hooked up with. It was the kind of strutting naughty over-the-top work out that builds (or destroys) reputations. Of course, I'm waiting for the duet with Brooks and Teri Gender Bender to hit the stores in time for Valentine's Day.