Blogger Sarah Moeding, aka CityGal, sets out in search of the Twin Cities' best drag shows.

The Gay '90's

  • Some things never change. There's still a stall door at the Gay 90s missing in the women's loo downstairs. Camille Collins still has great legs; her headdresses still impress. Nina D'Angelo still gets a crowd going, whether it's with an Aretha Franklin medley or that recent Katy Perry hit "I Kissed a Girl." Joshua still makes me melt with his sly-suave drag king ways. Host Monica West still whips out crazy bon mots like, "Put your hands together like trailer trash at the tractor pull!" And that's what's great about it. The Gay 90s on a Sunday night is still your surest bet for a high-energy, professional-but-funny drag show in the Twin Cities. Sure, the crowd skews young and straight, but at least half the crowd is still on the GLBT side. The ladies are polished and spend a ton of money on their acts, and it shows.

The Town House

  • The Town House is the most casual, comfortable gay bar I've ever been in. The mix of people is evenly split between lesbians and gay men, and it seems more of a place you'd go to meet your friends than to hook up. The drag is amateurish. One queen strutted out in her best goth/New Romantic garb, looking an awful lot like Pete Burns if you're squinting. With some back flips and a dramatic drop into the splits, she did turn up the dial a bit, but on the whole the show seemed a little lackluster. It's not polished enough to impress, nor is it humorous enough to make up for the amateur qualities. I'd rather come here for the great people than the queens.

The Brass Rail

  • Drag shows are notoriously bawdy, and Sundays at the Brass Rail are no different. The difference here is that these queens could never, ever be mistaken for female (with the exception of the blingin', bodacious Prada Diamond). I'm all for calling a man "she" if the size 12 heel fits, but I found the word dying in my throat, as these are most definitely men. Hysterical, over 40, with beer guts and missing teeth. "The Drew Carey Show's" Mimi is largely reincarnated in the visage of Hellen Back, minus about 40 gallons of vitriol. Hellen engaged me in a conversation about whether cooter tastes like chicken (it doesn't), and informed me that since I was the only natural-born female in the house, I was going to be "dessert for everyone." She was a hoot. But it was Ms. Alison Brooks who won my heart. With her dime-store wig, missing tooth, worn features and distinctly hooked beak, she was an elegant, mannish mess. In the bizarre "suicide" round where the girls had no idea what song was playing next, she truly shined. Clearly giving up on singing the words, she proceeded, in all her 50-plus glory, to get down on the stage and writhe around like a sex kitten. That's drag gold right there.

The Saloon

  • Tuesday was my first foray into the Saloon's esteemed karaoke night -- I sang "Hit Me Baby (One More Time)," as that always goes over well with the lads; this was no exception, as the whole bar sang along. After midnight, things started to get hoppin' in the other half of the Saloon, it being Latin Night over there. I was told that this would be a good place to see some hot Latin queens. We walked through the doorway and were immediately greeted by the most beautiful trashy-sexy vision of Latin dragginess I've ever seen. She kissed each of us on the cheek, stating that a "show" would begin in 20 minutes. A show? Well, we stuck around until 1:15, and the only show was this delectable princess shaking her enviable ass on the dance floor.

Virtual local-music museum

It's oddly reassuring to visit the Minnesota Historical Society's "PunkFunkRockPop" site (www.mnhs.org/collections/mplsmusic) and see Minneapolis rock 'n' roll ephemera -- phone-pole fliers, ticket stubs, T-shirts, band photos -- safely under the caring wing of an archival institution. It's also a gas to trip down memory lane along with Babes in Toyland, Hüsker Dü, the Replacements, Soul Asylum, the Suburbs and the Time.
Not overly gigantic, the site is nicely organized by featured objects, bands, short histories and venues. Music geeks will get off on set lists scrawled on the back of a diner bill, graphic types will thrill to the vintage posters and boomers will delight to recall that in 1984 three of the top 10 releases in the Village Voice's "Pazz and Jop" critics' poll were Minnesota products.

  • Claude Peck