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ancient dj artifacts
someone recently reminded me of some of the whack shit we used to pull at Sporters- like playing things from sesame street or spinning industrial all night like a bridgeport lathe on speed then ending up with 'copacabana' and having everyone sing along.

sporters had existed as a gay bar for quite some time . it was always sort of dive and used to go by the name of the ' west end tennis club' to disguise the fact that it was a gay bar. there were weird dusty old country club like decorations in random corners and a charlie's angles pinball machine. here we see the outside of the club decorated with one of it's colorful, glamorous, and friendly patrons near to to passing out on the curb. you just can't find this kind of charm anymore - not for love nor money nor a big pile of coke:

it's now a sleazy breeders sporty bar called ' the hill' and a starfucks- it had 3 rooms. we will not talk about the basement.

our alternative night was sunday. it was started by a protege of the 1270/man ray dj linda lawrence named john. once the 12 purged alternative music ( and rid itself of it's only female dj) and the emergency room moved around and closed, the gothic minions had no where to go and thus sunday at sporters. most of those of us who were GOTH/INDUSTRIAL NOT NEW WAVE were pretty much linda's chillens- john, christina ladanay ( who was my best friend and original dj partner), mr. mittens. when i started linda was very generous- giving me crates of records and taking time to help me learn to beat mix. i regret that i never really got to tell her how amazing she was for doing this- and what an intuitively incredible dj she was- absolutely the best in boston.

in the afternoon until we spun at night- usually the time for the honored gay tradition of the tea dance- they had a cabaret singer we dubbed " patty o' furniture" complete with a toned down liberace character in a tux on the piano. she was always shit faced by the time we arrived and sometimes we had to pull the plug on her because she just wouldn't shut the fuck up and stop singing. sometimes she didn't notice the dead microphone in her paw and would babble on about the "djs and their punk rock music coming up next...". she made this really odd drawn out trilling noise at the end of stanzas that everyone in the club would launch into the minute she started doing it. again she never seemed to notice nor that we would pitch coins at her head from the dj booth (we were completely evil but, then again, she was so far gone it never made her even flinch an inch). her favorite song- filled with numerous opportunities to trill-was 'hero'/ ' wind beneath my wings' from beaches. the time i walked in and everyone was clapping and doing the funky hand jive to the theme from the jeffersons ( "movin' on up....") with ms. o'furniture in full vocal flight... a priceless, glittering memory- a magical thing filled with horror and its own twisted beauty.

here's an old skool flyer i made- assembled just like a serial killer's brag notes to a newspaper:

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I really appreciate reading stories like these. I never ventured up to Boston in those days so it's always interesting to see how a parallel scene evolved in both Boston and Providence. And isn't it funny to remember how we never had desktop publishing capability like people do nowadays? Everything used to be rub off letters and cut and paste.

Your flyer reminded me of this:

Did you ever play it?

oh yeah!( how many fucking samples can there be in one song? people now seem perplexed that we'd play sesame street samples but this song is an example of the times-cartoons and old shows like dragnet were sampled over and over.)

techno and acid house were not popular here at the time- it seems odd to say some of it was part of the ' underground' but it was.

oh and i miss the old skool flyers- i don't much like the slick and shiny cards with some anime ho who hasn't eaten in 2 weeks pouting on them. i used to love making flyers- it was so much part of the punk DIY thing i grew up with. no one had money for professional printing and no computers and such.

Thankyou, linda..

Gracias al vida.. thank you.



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