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Where is everybody?
by Nikki Cormaci Jun 14, 2006
Scream ClubRadio RadioSaturday, June 10Scream Club, the queer synchrotron hip-hop duo from Olympia, Wash., might have played a brilliant show if more than 30 people had shown up. After a full day of rain-battered, Pride Parade activities wearied some potential listeners and a slashed cover charge at another venue drove even more away, the small, but enthusiastic crowd that remained at Radio Radio Saturday night waited nearly until midnight for the platinum-haired, glitter-glam, electrosex, punk rap misfits. As the stylish, young, local, rocker lesbians of the small crowd waited, they knocked back plastic cups of the featured X-rated Fusion liqueur. The tropical pink vodka tasted like liquid Brigitte Bardot and only amplified the taunts of Betty Page’s endless gyrations spilling off the big screens. When at last Scream Club stepped up to the mics to sate the spunky troops, the duo, whose names are Cindy Wonderful and Sarah Adorable, beckoned the straggly turnout closer to the stage and asked them to consider for a moment whether they belonged either to the “puppy or pony” category. Whether or not anyone in the audience had any idea what they were referring to remains a puzzle. With the puppy/pony question out on the table, Scream Club politely acknowledged the undersize crowd and then launched into their show, throwing down a set of tight raps wrapped around old school beats injected with synchronized ’80s dance floor antics in getups that flung the roller rink on a collision course with a carnival riot. For 20 minutes Scream Club incited a brand new aesthetic universe of tactile, iconic, lesbian vivacity — and then, they were done. The stylish rocker lesbian locals returned to Betty Page and a liquid Chanteuse on the rocks, and Cindy and Sarah sipped on vodka and cranberry and gabbed with fans.Why do venues fail to fill up for tours of national acts from everywhere on the geographic, cultural and musical maps, even when the venues offer admission to these shows for the price of a cocktail? Why can nearly every music fan in the city cite a list of shows with tremendous potential that were hamstrung by an embarrassingly dismal turnout? Creative, talented people come into the city every week and play a ghost town. Where is everybody?
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