Though all-ages clubs are being hit left and right, at least one of this city's speakeasies is gaining popularity. Very hush-hush, this latest secret club has been operating for a couple of months right under the noses of authorities and conspiracy theorists alike. Now don't come runnin' to me trying to find out where it is, because I'm the last person who's going to tell you, but word is the place is stylish, conveniently located, and features music spun by some of Seattle's hottest DJs. In true speakeasy form, you can't get in without knowing the super-special secret password. Too fucking cute. However, if you aren't from Newwww Yorrrrrk Citee, or at least a seasoned clubgoer, you might want to give this one a pass. I'm told this joint employs some of the bitchiest "bartendresses" this side of Moomba.
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Please -- can you help a sister out by answering this gnawing query? Who ever thought that Sir Mix-A-Lot backed by the Presidents of the United States of America was a good idea? Honestly, I was always a little iffy about it, but after witnessing their Aug 13 set at the Showbox, I am of one solid mind that Subset (as they're called) might just be one of the most terrible, awful ideas five musicians have ever brought to fruition. Mix was up front all huge and booming, and Chris Ballew and Dave Dederer were bouncing around like two white guys who made millions of bucks singing kids songs about canned goods. I kept flashing back to that scene in Weird Science where Anthony Michael Hall gets drunk with some new friends and starts acting like Huggy Bear. I know I should let it go, but never being able to is my own personal cross to bear....
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Super-rad publicist Julie Butterfield -- the woman keeping track of Sleater-Kinney, Hovercraft, and several other Northwest notables -- has given notice that she'll be the latest Olympian to make the move up to Seattle. It seems like it was only a year ago that the Oly music cognoscenti were turning up their noses at the Emerald City like it was us making all that horrible stench instead of Tacoma. Now everybody's doing the Tra-La-La-I'm-movin'-up-North shuffle. Not that I'm complaining or anything. I'm told Sara Utter of the Bangs has been house hunting, as have a few other music scenesters. Now, if only we could get our pal Lois up here. Please?
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One last thing -- ladies be on alert! It seems a former member of the Grunge Pack (although his band wasn't "grunge") has been up to his old tricks again. A young club-going woman was minding her own beeswax at the Showbox when she was approached by a tall, lanky bass player who offered his services as a love meister. She declined, and he responded by sneaking up behind her and biting her on the ass. "I still have the bruise," she reports.
