SISTER SF in the Press: 2001

The San Francisco Chronicle: December 2001
Sisters In Sound
by Neva Chonin

A few years ago in a club in Munich, Germany, DJ XJS was pulling her crate of records into the DJ booth when security personnel stopped her.

"I was told to get out of the booth because I was getting in the DJ's way," XJS recalls. "I said, 'But I'm the DJ.' And they said, 'No you're not; you're a girl.' "

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The San Francisco Examiner: September 2001
The Mix
by Bill Picture

There wasn't much of a support network available to female DJs in San Francisco five years ago. DJ-ing itself had yet to be considered more than a hobby outside of our scene and was still subject to a degree of gender bias long since gone in other fields. DJ-ing was still, for all intents and purposes, thought of as a men's occupation...

The San Francisco Examiner: August 2001
The Mix
by Bill Picture

There wasn't much of a support network available to female DJs in San Francisco five years ago. DJ-ing itself had yet to be considered more than a hobby outside of our scene and was still subject to a degree of gender bias long since gone in other fields. DJ-ing was still, for all intents and purposes, thought of as a men's occupation.

   Sister resident and manager MC Linzee explains, "Back in '97, when The Baroness, Siren, Polywog, XJS and Forest Green started Sister and they'd get a gig somewhere, the guys would actually go out of their way to make it hard for them."

   "If you come to a party and they're using a different mixer than you're used to, you should be able to ask for help and have someone say, 'OK, here's the EQ,' for instance. That's what guys do for the other guys. But they would mess with the girls on purpose."

   So a handful of established local female DJs, recognizing the need for a "supportive, friendly platform" for their female peers, founded Sister, an all-female DJ collective in October of 1997.

   From the very beginning, the members of Sister wanted to make it clear that they were not asking to be treated any differently from their male peers. In fact, they didn't want gender to be an issue at all. They simply wanted to be thought of as DJs first, and then women.

   "Oh, you're a bunch of girls. Is that your thing? That was the initial response from promoters. But that's not what we're about. We happen to be females but Sister's really about high standards. If a DJ gives us a tape and she's not ready to play out, we're not going to book her. We're going to tell her why. We're going to tell her what to work on and as soon as we think she's ready, we'll give her an early slot at one of our parties."

   DJ collectives aren't a new concept. In fact, San Francisco is home to probably a dozen others. But one of the main differences between Sister and its male and mixed male/female counterparts is the way it's run.

   "Most people won't book a DJ because they have a good tape," Linzee says. "It's all about politics and who they know. That's the difference right there. Sister's never been about politics. San Francisco has more female DJs than any other city in the U.S and it's almost like all of them are Sister DJs. It's an extended family. As long as they have skills and are good at what they do, I'll rotate them in. I don't care who they know."

   The other difference is that Sister, unlike the other collectives, isn't dedicated to a particular genre of music.

   "That was a problem at first," Linzee explains. "We had so many things going against us those first two years. Promoters would say, 'OK, so you're promoting females?' No. Then because our first DJs were drum-and-bass DJs, they'd say, 'So you're drum-and-bass DJs?' Well, no. 'Then what the hell are you?' So we just did our own parties. But now we have a couple talented DJs in each genre and we've earned respect in each of those communities. We can get billed as more of a crew now."
    Sister's resident lineup has changed a bit since '97.

   "Charlotte and Siren are no longer in Sister and Seraphim, Tektrix, Freya and Girl Friday have all come on board. And we just added two new ones -- Queen Agnes B. and Amber. There are also over 40 guest DJs."

   When asked what Sister's future may hold, Linzee responds, "We want to form a label eventually. We also added 'SF' to 'Sister' because we want to do a Sister NYC and a Sister Miami. We want to expand throughout the United States and, eventually, Europe."

   Meanwhile, Sister's influence is already being felt around the world thanks to its strong presence on the Web.

   "XJS does the whole Web site herself and gives me a report every month of how many hits we receive," says Linzee. "The number is skyrocketing. We're getting hits from all over the world. We get a lot of hits from India for some reason."

   "Seraphim did a Google search recently of her name and found her pictures posted on Web sites in Poland. So we're everywhere."

   As for Linzee herself, a strong drum 'n' bass and breaks MC, she is already in the studio working on her own tracks.
    "I have three different producers that I'm working with right now. Frogger and I have one track that's already finished and we're working on three more. Laron from Psychofunkodiscodelic has some nu-skool breaks and hip-hop tracks. I'm going to do some vocals for him. Filter is doing broken beats and I already have a track out with him. I'm going to be concentrating for the next few months on studio work and doing our parties."

   "I like doing (Sister) events," she adds, "because I like exposing upcoming talent. I love to watch them go off and watch the crowd go off.

   "We started doing Sister parties because we wanted to have a place where women felt comfortable expressing themselves. Music is an expression. If you come into a situation where it's negative, you're not going to perform well. But you walk into a Sister party and it's alive.

   "Sister's about fostering female talent. Females in society are brought up to believe that we can't touch a car and we can't touch electronics. Well, you know what? Just show us how. Once we have the technical ability and get past the stagefright, we can do it just as well as anyone."

Steamtunnels.net: January 2001
Fem-DJs
by Yasmin Tabi

Around the seventies we saw the emergence of "techno," a style of music blending fast beats, synthesizers, soulful voices and random collaborations of sound. These techniques eventually led to types of music we recognize today as Drum 'n' Bass, Electronica, House, Trance, Ambient, and the list goes on. Today’s DJs need to be intrepid and innovative; they must be forerunners of a music scene that is quickly changing and introduce new styles, sounds and abilities.

Recently a lot of sassy fem-DJs have been stepping into the scene, mixing it up and paving the way for more women to start spinning. Everybody knows that the music industry has been a male dominated business. However, in 1997 all-female DJ organization SISTER was launched in San Francisco to unite woman DJs and address issues facing them. Steamtunnels talks to three of residents of this support network, DJs Polywog, Forest Green and Tektrix.

DJ Polywog says she's noticed a change in the perception of women who spin since her first years as a professional DJ. As more women became DJs, others realized they had the opportunity to do it too. "When I first began DJ-ing seven years ago in San Francisco, there were only a handful of women DJ-ing. With the launching of Your Sister's House back in '93, women began to organize and support one another. Women were seen behind the decks mixing, which gave inspiration to other women to go for it as well," she says.

"The increased presence of powerful women DJs and producers will very soon bring a balance to the male domination that has been limiting us all in some seriously unhealthy ways…The more role models women have, especially in one another, the better." Polywog hopes for equality in the music industry, but she isn't anti-male. She says we all need to "let go of our brainwashed training of fear and separation that keeps us from realizing our equality and responsibility to evolve."

When DJ Tektrix started spinning in 1995 there were few female DJs. She still senses some slight male dominance, but "sometimes sexism is quite apparent in both directions. People may treat you favorably because you are a 'female DJ' or they may treat you poorly because they don't think you have what it takes to rock the dance floor… I have experienced both and I think it is relative to how life is in general."

Tektrix says, "I personally have been searching for how I feel about the male/female DJ issue. I have started a website called DJ-girl.com and I am debating about what I will do with it." Tektrix's mentor was male DJ Tom L-G, who "answered my questions as I went along in my learning process and inspired me to take up DJ-ing in a very male dominated scene," she says.

DJ Forest says so far sexism hasn't been a big issue for her, and she hasn't felt intimidation in the male-dominated DJ scene. “Most men have been very supportive and positive towards me, and I feel comfortable being a woman in the business. I think that is partly because I live in San Francisco."

San Francisco Chronicle: January 21st 2001
Vanessa Hua

Just hours after getting off her desk job at a Web startup, Cary Creel is working the turntable.

Now under the identity "DJ Tektrix," Creel mixes it up, her fingers fluid as a Japanese koto player's as she twirls knobs on the turntable deck. Urgent electronic dance beats of hard house and techno throb in a cavernous room at the War Memorial Opera House. The music builds with the sounds of drums, pterodactyl crys and other synthesized confections.

And she's just starting the lineup. Two co-workers are slated to spin this night at a party thrown by Topica, an online provider of newsletters and discussion groups. All three are part of a coterie of 20 DJs at the South of Market firm tuned into the Bay Area's vibrant electronic music community. The relationship in force at Topica and other high-tech firms is clear: they help put the tech in techno.

Like nowhere else, elements of the local tech industry and the electronic scene have allowed each to flourish. Techies bring a creative and financial vitality to the music community. In turn, the music dance culture begets fulfilled and productive workers, by providing an artistic and social outlet.

The collaboration of tech whizzes with visual artists, composers and others is core to the music festivities. This partnership reveals common ground between artists and the tech set, at a time when San Francisco's clashes over gentrification has created discord. "The two cultures fit well together," said Creel, 26, who landed her content producer job through fellow music aficionados. "There's a symbiotic relationship."

At this party and others featuring electronica, skilled DJs -- not live musicians -- create the vibe. Though Creel describes herself as shy, she takes command spinning at events about five times a month. During her set, she cues up the bass line of the record with a flick of her wrist, then crouches down in her knee-high boots to reach for more vinyl, then leans over the turntable deck to hug a friend -- all while bobbing under headphones with a Mona Lisa smile.

"Geeks like to stay up all night coding and know the technical aspects. And then there's the people who like to stay up dancing all night," said the Oakland resident, describing the affinity the two homegrown phenomena have for one other, a duet unique to the Bay Area.

Finding Kinship

Even as the new economy has begun to fall apart, this tight-knit subculture has drawn closer together. They groove for the music, for the collaborative kinship, for the release after hard work. This forum for self-expression gives them a chance to play with visual and audio technology in an imaginative setting -- spaces where they can twirl lights dervishly or project metamorphosing computer graphics, against pounding beats from state-of-the-art sound systems.

Though devotees come from a range of backgrounds, the nerd herd is a pillar of the Bay Area electronic music community. Raves, all night dance-fests powered by fast-paced digital music and trippy visuals, arrived in the United States from Britain a decade ago and took off in urban areas. The music spills out of local clubs, underground parties, the arts festival Burning Man, online sites livedjs.com and betalounge.com, and other venues now on a regular basis.

The cheap South of Market warehouses that gave rise to the underground rave scene later became home to today's startups, which accounts in part for the overlap in San Francisco. The Bay Area's zealous local underground is estimated at 5,000, with another 200,000 listeners of more commercial works and events.

"When you have so many people who are technically adept, it's only a matter of time before they have a desire to apply their knowledge outside the 9-to-5, " said Monty Luke, 30, a DJ, music promoter, and market strategist at AskJeeves, an Emeryville search engine company. "It takes what they know and applies it to something they love -- besides dedicating it to someone else to make a bunch of money."

Almost Spiritual

For many techno-geeks, dance music culture offers a longed-for camaraderie. The gatherings are an excuse for relaxation and celebration otherwise missing in the anonymity of urban life, a modern, more intense version of grabbing a beer after work.

"There are a lot of new social opportunities and interaction not available with purely geek activities," said J.D. Falk, 26, of Oakland, who works at Mail Abuse, an anti-electronic spam organization. "The call of the rave side is an almost spiritual aspect -- concern for people's well-being, whether people are happy with their lives."

Instead of just going out for a night on the town, many techies help build the music experience from the ground up -- much like their day jobs at a startup. Whether pitching in as a DJ or a door monitor, as a promoter or an attendee, as a visual or music artist, brainy hipsters say such events offer meaningful and instant rewards. They may spend hours or even months preparing for a night, as much a stakeholder of a music event as of their company.

Going to a party is easy, said Matt Peyton, 27, of Sunnyvale, who works at a server management company. Pride of ownership comes only when assisting.

"I feel like contributing to something that's not anywhere else," said Petyon, while standing on the top step of wobbly ladder and hanging up tarps at a party. "I can say I helped put this together."

Techie contributions to the music scene include numerous party-organizing collectives such as Friends and Family and Cloud Factory; SFRaves, a longtime e-mail information and discussion list; financial backing for "Groove," last year's film about the San Francisco's rave scene; and as volunteers for DanceSafe, an Oakland group that promotes drug-use education and the controversial practice of pill testing.

Elaborate Productions

The electronic music community has also made a mark on local business practices. The closeness fostered by shared music experiences has energized many tech heads who work long hours. The bond runs deeper than any manufactured at a corporate retreat or team-building activity, they say.

"You have an otherworldly dance experience with friends, communicating with your eyes, and then the next day you design products together for 16 hours," said Steve Simitzis, 26, an animated San Francisco raver and Internet entrepreneur.

In some ways, what goes into putting on a successful electronica party -- often elaborate productions of music and art -- is akin to the qualities of a successful startup, the bleached-blonde vegan added. A dedicated and loyal staff with strong ties, in and outside of work, is all the more productive.

"The tribal creative experiences of building a party, putting together a team that shares visions and goals -- it's practice for putting together creative work teams," said Simitzis, who is taking time off to make electronic music and to assist non-profits advocating changes to restrictive drug policies. Illegal drugs such as ecstasy can be an element at events, which has led some to stigmatize electronic music and its fans.

"The reality is, ecstasy is part of the scene," said Eddie Codel, 32, a San Francisco support engineer at an Internet infrastructure company. He is one of many tech volunteers for DanceSafe (www.dancesafe.org), whose initial financial supporters include Bob Wallace, an early employee at Microsoft Corp. "My belief is that ecstasy is just an entry in the scene, and is something people graduate from once they know its effects."

Ties That Bind

In between events, the spirit lives on over e-mail and other forms of Internet discussion. "What raves and parties are about is people connecting at a level they don't normally do," said Brian Behlendorf, 27, of San Francisco, an open- source platform proponent and co-founder of the Apache Software Foundation and company CollabNet. He formed e-mail list SF Raves in 1992, in the early days of area electronic music events and public Internet access (www.sfraves.org). "E-mail is a unique medium, allowing for a particular type of connection both informal and recorded."

Over time, friends who met through the list and at parties have established collectives, which use e-mail to organize and promote more happenings. Large groups of volunteers set up, staff and clean up events. "It's the combination of knowing how to make huge sound systems work and to want to own them; how to make lasers work and to want to own them; to want to make electronic music and have the stuff to make it with," said Ethan Miller, 33, Topica's creative director. Known as the granddaddy of the local rave scene, he co-founded Friends and Family, an influential music collective, in 1994.

"It's about having the technical know-how and passion to turn on toys and freak out," said Miller, a Berkeley father of three with tribal tattoos of dragons and barbarians on his forearms.

The tech die-hards bring the same dogged determination and experimentation to their hobbies as they do to their jobs. "With computers, you learn as you go along," said Ki Hong, 30, a UNIX administrator and DJ who arranges to fly in out-of-town Detroit techno and tech house acts every month to San Francisco. "It's the same with the gear that you play with."

Many are also drawn by the gadget-oriented, cutting-edge nature of the music. "The music is inherently attractive to people in technology because it's made with new pieces of equipment that incorporates new sounds," said Andrew Smith, founder of xlr8r, a 60,000-circulation electronic dance music magazine in San Francisco (www.xlr8r.com). "They understand new concepts introduced through technology, and think non-traditionally."

Supporting The Underground

That willingness to explore and live outside convention is shared by some techies and artists. Promoter Leonard Carillo wants to ease the tension between these occasional antagonists by tapping into tech wealth to support underground artists and performers.

"The loftier goal driving me is to bridge the gap between the dot-coms and artists," said the former Sybase Corp. computer technician, 28, over drinks at a Mission District bar. "I want to bring on the fire dancers, the clowns on stilts, and let them get paid for their art."

Together with business partner Nicolas Powers, Big Smiles Productions ((www. bigsmilesproductions.com) has produced parties at Web design firm OvenDigital and BlueLight, the Internet division of K-Mart, and others since last summer.

In recent years, police crackdowns and restrictions of nightlife permits have made putting on electronic music events more difficult. Still, the Bay Area remains a bastion of this global music trend.

The regional scene has grown up to include both the teenagers just getting turned on to the music and "old-timers" in their 30s and beyond. The more experienced partygoers have learned how to balance late nights with jobs, mortgages, families and other duties. "When I moved here, I found a more mature party scene. More people were over 21 and had college degrees," said Jason Zemlicka, 26, associate producer of rave flick Groove (www.groovethemovie.com) and a Midwesterner who moved here after college. "They were responsible citizens, working and making money. This is how they had fun."

Six to 10 events round out weekend calenders, on top of regular monthly and weekly electronic music affairs. Settings include intimate gatherings of 100 to 800 attendees with a cover of $5 or so (to break even) as well as larger commercial ventures with upwards of 20,000 customers paying $20 or more for tickets. Underground, un-permitted and illegal parties are more rare than in the past but still go on.

Rave Renegade

The powerful friendship born in leisure among techie ravers is no passing fad. As the economy stumbled in the last year, the social network has been another source of job leads, advice, and offers.

"You live, work, and play together. There's an incredible awareness of synergy," said Greg Paolino, a quality engineer at Topica who throws "renegade" raves under freeways and at construction sites in the East Bay. "It's an almost family setting, where you trust each other implicitly," Paolino, whose vocabulary betrays his varied expertise. Biz-speak: "proof of concept"; the mystical: "no boundaries'; and heavy equipment: "jenny" (slang for generators.)

Neither Paolino nor co-organizer Sameer Parekh has ever been arrested, despite throwing Urban Wasteland parties since 1999 without obtaining city permits. The legal process is bureaucratic, controlling, and costly for what should be without constraints, they say. As in the tech world, their iconoclastic streak spurs them to take a gamble on the strength of an idea.

Last Saturday, a crew of 45 spent four hours transforming a waterfront construction site with massive sound systems, propane space heaters, bean bags, black lights, fluorescent trees and other luxuries. As the sun and temperatures dipped into night, they cleared aside jumbled debris, blocked off areas with yellow caution tape, mopped up giant pools of water, and carted heavy speakers. They carried in crates of water and rigged together electric cords. In homage to the site, some wore hard hats and orange vests as they cheerfully did strenuous manual labor. Generators hummed.

Just before the party started, police showed up. Told to leave, the volunteers complied, as always, without complaint and after cleaning up. They a ccepted defeat the same way they would a failed Internet venture: There's always next time. "This turn of events does not discourage us," said Parekh, 25, whose long wavy hair falls to mid-back. The Oakland cryptography expert sold his company C2Net to Redhat last summer, allowing him to spend more time playing techno, traveling, and start-up consulting. "It will only make the next event go off even better.

Whatever happens, what matters most is the music and the freedom it can bestow. "Everyone risks getting busted because we want to dance," said Creel, the Topica DJ with the freckled, open face of a passionate believer. "I've never felt as comfortable as anywhere else. Everyone does what they feel like. There are no inhibitions, no rules to abide by."

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