Drag Queens, Malört, and a Wild Night in Boys Town:Guided by Strangers, The Harsh Noise Crew Explores Chicago.

When you see a cool looking punk on the street that is the first person you should talk to, especially if you are trying to access the fringe underground subcultures of a city. This was our exact approach in an attempt to infiltrate Chicago and get into some strange mischief. 

Outside of HN, our crew does video work in all disciplines. This trip, in particular, was organized for a commercial project for a tech company. But why limit our travels to our  responsibilities? Fuck that! We wanted to get wild and use time to our advantage.

Our first stop off the plane was a bar so we could try Malort, the alcohol often said to taste like gasoline. Since it’s only available in Chicago, we had an objective. Luckily, we checked that off the list almost immediately, and, surprisingly, we all enjoyed Malort. Maybe it was placebo? Who knows. But we kept drinking the gasoline for the remainder of the trip. This also happened to fuel our first step in exploration, talking to strangers.

In the streets of Chicago, there are plenty of people roaming around, but I was focused on finding alternative people, preferably punks. It didn’t take long to spot two young punks walking down the street. I rushed up to them with my camera and asked if I could take their portrait. They obliged, which is the first sign that someone might actually be interested in talking to you.

After snapping their photo, I asked where the underground party was. They answered almost simultaneously: “Boys Town! Berlin!” Berlin was a nightclub that, according to them, had the best techno music. Without a second thought, we got directions from the duo, hopped on a train, and headed straight for Boystown.

On the train, I spotted what I assumed was a couple, looking cool and fashionable. I walked up and asked if I could take their portrait. We talked the entire ride, and I invited them to the club with us. They took my number and said they’d let us know later, but I figured we wouldn’t hear from them again.

Getting off the train was insane, the weather had turned from warm to torrential downpour. I felt like I was on the set of some old crime noir where the detective is wandering through the streets of rain, tracking a criminal. Except I wasn't tracking a criminal, I was tracking down a mysterious nightclub.

Once inside the club, our whole squad knew we’d been recommended to the right place. It was packed to the brim with cool looking people and drag queens were everywhere. The drinks started flowing and I was snapping photos and having conversations left and right. Everyone was interesting, interested, and courteous as hell. My first night in Chicago had me sold on the city. Even the people from the train ended up showing up and spent the night partying with us. At one point, I looked up and saw one of our homies on stage, surrounded by drag queens with one dollar bills in his mouth. I was shocked and stoked. Not too long after, we were all on stage with the drag queens, one dollar bills in our mouths. This is the proper way to explore a city.

The party went on until the early hours of the morning. We snapped photos of everyone and spent hours talking with all the drag queens outside the club. It was a beautiful, blurry experience that prepared us for our work the following days.

 In less than 24 hours, I felt like we had been welcomed by the city and held in its neon arms.

When leaving the club and getting back on the subway, we met two Italian kids who were talking our ears off. They were awesome, just telling us random stories, when all of a sudden, a guy enters the subway, saying he has a gun and is going to kill everyone. The kids told us to just walk down the subway to another part and avoid this guy. Nothing happened, and then just as randomly as it began, our night was over.

I love you, Chicago.