16 JUNE 19-25, 2025 westword.com WESTWORD | MUSIC | CAFE | CULTURE | NIGHT+DAY | LETTERS | CONTENTS | sharkskin suit that he jokes “shone like a rare tropical insect.” While members performed at differ- ent times and in different iterations of the band, everyone has fond memories of the Mercury Cafe. “There are so many musicians who set foot there and it always felt so safe,” Corbett says. “Especially in the beginning, when we were just beginning to gig; it was nerve- wracking. None of us had really been in any kind of consistent band outside of school. The Mercury made it feel so safe and so fun. Anybody who showed up at the Mercury was going to be in our corner, no matter what.” The group’s fi rst big Mercury Cafe show was as the opening act for Romanovsky and Phillips, a gay singer-songwriter duo. “They did these great songs like ‘Don’t Use Your Penis (for a Brain),’” Corbett recalls. After that, the Merc “just kind of became our place. We had a great relationship with Marilyn,” Conger says of Marilyn Megenity, the venue’s founder. The Dead Sinatras would typically play in the ballroom upstairs, packing the fl oor with people from all stripes. “We’d have attorneys, people from the dis- ability community. We’d have people break out and do their own thing as an audience,” she adds. “You’d look out and see a conga line or a dance contest going on. The audiences took on a life of their own, and we gave them permission to be their silliest, best selves.” And members of the Dead Sinatras were being their silliest, best selves, too. They per- formed songs with lyrics by Corbett, like this one inspired by Deanna Troi from Star Trek: Fly me to the stars of a distant galaxy We will search for interplanetary joy We’ll discover new dimensions and you’ll know all my intentions, ‘Cause you can read my mind, Deanna Troi. You and me and the Universe, we can telepathically converse And boldly go where men have never gone. You can tell me things I want to hear. You’re all big brown eyes and I’m all ears. We’ll go to warp drive, me and you On our bridge just built for two Take me to the Holodeck — you know I’ll be a nervous wreck but I’ll be your little interstellar toy. ‘Cause somehow from the very start, you beamed yourself right into my heart Now I’m “Klingon” to your love, Deanna Troi. And later “Cheney,” set to The Associa- tion’s “Windy,” for then-Vice President Dick Cheney, who had a lesbian daughter. Corbett sings: Who’s from a windy town in Wyoming? Now he lives on the hill in D.C. Who’s even got a lesbian daughter? Everyone knows it’s Cheney. “It was fun because people really re- sponded,” Grebwich says. “I thought it was kind of therapeutic for us and the audience, because it’s letting down the guard. We had a persona on stage, and the audience really responded to us with laughter and dancing.” The Dead Sinatras’ last public perfor- mances were in 2008, including one at an event for Hillary Clinton during the Demo- cratic National Convention held in Denver. Years later, a few of the band members saw an exhibit at History Colorado Center called Rainbows & Revolutions. “It was hung on some really great material, as far as the material culture of the LGBTQ+ community in Denver goes,” Corbett says. “But it was kind of short on things that women had done. To be fair, that wasn’t a deliberate thing. They were dependent on what people had donated.” “We were like, ‘We should be in that,’” Conger adds. So some of the band’s members recently sat down with History Colorado’s Aaron Marcus and Tara Kaufman to deliver oral histories. They also plan on donating their old costumes. According to Kaufman, the oral histories will be available online and the costumes will be preserved for future generations and put on display if an op- portunity arises. “Queer communities deserve just as much representation as any other person or group, but historically, a lot of museums have excluded those stories,” Kaufman says. “It’s important we don’t keep doing that.” Oral histories can enrich our understand- ing of the past by providing access to people’s memories and fi rsthand experiences, she adds: “So when it comes to marginalized groups like the queer community, oral his- tories can be a way to amplify their voices.” But the Dead Sinatras aren’t done amplify- ing their own voices just yet. “Part of me thinks if there wasn’t a time that needed the Dead Sinatras, this is the time,” Gilmore muses. The audience at the Mercury Cafe’s fi nal open mic would have agreed. But mostly, the band just wants younger queer people to make their own music and fi ght for what they believe in. “For musicians today, pick a cause,” Con- ger says. “Because there are so many. We were all really coalesced around Amend- ment 2 and the Bush administration. There was just a lot to be angry about, and there’s nothing like a social issue to prompt people to fi ght fi re with silliness.” Email the author at [email protected]. Culture continued from page 1. From left to right: Kathy Corbett, Monica Márquez, Kay Conger, Brandy Herbert, Kevin Gilmore and Barb Grebwich; “We weren’t the best musicians, but we had a message and weren’t afraid to broadcast it with an accordion,” Conger says. “We had a persona on stage, and the audience really responded to us with laughter and dancing,” Grebwich says; As the token straight man in the band, Kevin Gilmore’s shtick was that he didn’t know he was playing with a bunch of lesbians. He performed a number called “I Got My Mojo Working but It Just Don’t Work on You.” KRISTEN FIORE DEAD SINATRAS HEATHER M. SMITH DEAD SINATRAS
