Austin’s drag anarchist warmly welcomed with a sellout crowd at Dallas debut. Her filthy-gorgeous dubstep triumph included a barroom brawl, an airborne buttplug and ‘jock-headed faggots’ screaming for more.
On the opening day of the State Fair of Texas, Expo Park introduced Dallas to something way freakier than deep-fried beer: Christeene Vale, whose Sept. 28 gig at the Double Wide is sure to go down in the Big D history books.
Christeene’s the cracked-out tranny whose grimy beats and skanky rapid-fire rhymes compliment instant classics, like “Fix My Dick” and “African Mayonnaise.”
Austin resident Paul Soileau is the queer artist who morphs into Christeene. And for the past three years, he’s launched Christeene’s ass-shaking singles with raunchy, sidesplitting videos directed by Texas filmmaker PJ Raval, whose work on the 2009 documentary “Trouble the Water” won an Oscar nomination.
Christeene’s videos have enticed fans worldwide. Solieu says San Francisco has more “Team Christeeene” diehards than his hometown, Austin, where Christeene’s been the toast of South By Southwest for the past three years.
The viral videos are just an appetizer. It’s Christeene’s daredevil live shows that draw comparisons to the raw energy of Peaches and the sleazy silliness of early John Waters movies.
Fans have lured Christeene to perform in New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Portland, Vancouver, Toronto, Stockholm, Berlin and even Paris — where Christeene and her crew were flown to the French capital to perform for punk couturier Rick Owens during Paris Fashion Week.
HOW WILL YOU SURPRISE DALLAS AT YOUR NEXT PERFORMANCE IN BIG D?
When me n JJ Booya rolled up tooo Dallas town we shurr as fuck did not expect to git da hawt mess dat yall put up on a stank platter at dat double wide ferr us. U see iz my favorite thang too roll into town me n JJ style an drop a stank nugget, see whut da water brangs, an then git all my shit in line ferrr da next takeover on dat nay nay. Dallas proved itself sum hungry muthafuggers an dat means dat when i cum back Im gunna be brangin a full out fuggin assault wit T Gravel an C Baby an JJ Booya throwin down a show dats gunna twurk out dat brain pain an brang in da hawt mess of it all. It aint to be reckoned with yall an if u can keep up den we will throw it da fuck down. BRANG IT BACK DALLAS AN BRANG IT HARRRD.[/one_half_last]
As for Texas, Christeene had never booked a gig outside of Austin … until last month, when Dallas got lucky.
On Sept. 20, Christeene announced she was making her Big D debut at Double Wide. Facebook and Twitter exploded. To preview the gig, Dallas Observer ran a full-page Christeene profile. On the day of the show, Gay List Daily dedicated a dispatch to “Christeene Does Dallas: Live & Raw.”
Unfortunately, those who didn’t score advance tickets were out of luck because Christeene’s Double Wide gig quickly sold out.
What did y’all miss?
Music maestro J.J. Booya started the evening with a creepy instrumental lullaby as Christeene made her entrance. Clad in hooker boots, a black-shag wig and mud-stained legs, Christeene sported a pair of soiled panties that only covered her crotch. While presenting her bare posterior to the audience, Christeene revealed a shredded length of fabric that dangled from between her buttocks. While bending over and tugging on the cloth, Christeene extracted a surprise — an Aneros prostate massager, which she promptly hurled into the audience, thereby receiving thunderous applause.
She kicked off her set list with the hammer-pounding scratches of “Damn’d Right,” the first track from Christeene’s recent “Waste Up, Kneez Down” album.
Barely five minutes into her show, the jam-packed Double Wide erupted into pandemonium. At first, the nature of chaos was hard to decipher: Are people slam-dancing?
It was a fight.
Two sweat-stained corpulent women — with asses as big as Texas — started throwing punches. As an eyewitness, I can attest that these heavyweights connected with hard blows. (It was later determined that the brawl ensued because one of the chubby ladies shoved the other plus-sized chick while trying to rush the stage.)
Dirty sex-toys? Overheated bitches ready to throw down?
Christeene couldn’t have asked for a better audience.
“It smells like Nell Carter up in here — and she’s dead,” Christeene laughed in her boozy, Carol Channing-like baby voice.
Toying with an Austin vs. Dallas urban rivalry, Christeene continued, “Now this may be the first time you see what me and J.J. do. And this is definitely our first time to see how y’all prove yourselves as Dallas Texans!”
[two_third]Now this may be the first time you see what me and J.J. do. And this is definitely our first time to see how y’all prove yourselves as Dallas Texans![/two_third]
Probably referring to stereotypes of North Texans portrayed as “douche-bag label queens” in the recent string of Dallas-based reality shows, Christeene continued, “But I gotta say, all that bullshit on the TV shows got nothing to do with y’all bastards out here tonight.”
In the interest of full disclosure, this writer has been a Christeene fan since Austin’s 2009 GaybiGayGay music fest, which inspired a rave SXSW review I was commissioned to write for another Dallas publication.
Christeene dedicated the second song of the night to Yours Truly, describing me as “That stupid jock-headed faggot who was there at the beginning — when J.J. and I started this wagon train across the United States. Daniel, I hope you enjoy this as much as you did when I first performed this three years ago.”
J.J. Booya ramped up the clobbering beats to “Fix My Dick,” and it seemed like the whole crowd was shouting rhymes along to Christeene’s signature track.
During “African Mayonnaise” the floor-humping energy inside the Double Wide got more extreme. As overwhelming bass lines ripped through the sound system, Christeene crouched into a sprint position and launched herself into a stage dive. While Christeene crowd surfed, two beefy bears at the foot of the stage immediately fled to the back of the room to avoid the overhead danger.
After the sentimental R&B-flavored “Tears from My Pussy,” Christeene offered her Dallas supporters a gift — a brown onion. Scrawled across the edible bulb’s papery skin was her autograph.
Christeene explained that her onion is like an olive branch — to be regarded as a symbol of peace from “Keep Austin Weird” to “Keep Dallas Pretentious.” She recalled that at a previous performance, she tossed the onion to an inebriated concertgoer who was so drunk, he chewed on the stanky vegetable like it was an apple.
When Christeene tossed the onion her Dallas fans, it headed towards a gaggle of West Village-looking gays, all decked out in long-sleeved button-down shirts. As it landed on one of their well-tailored shoulders, a shriek of surprise echoed across the room — which then turned into gales of delightful laughter.
Welcome to Dallas, Christeene.