24 OCTOBER 26-NOVEMBER 1, 2023 westword.com WESTWORD | MUSIC | CAFE | CULTURE | NIGHT+DAY | LETTERS | CONTENTS | Fag,” which shows mortal audiences “how zombies actually really act,” Maris attests. “Yes, we go around and we slobber, but we like to groom each other. And that means picking maggots off of each other. ... So in the video, there’s zombies eating maggots out of people’s crevices.” Be prepared: The video may be screened at the upcoming showcase. And because Maris’s show is for everyone, during bandmember Steak Diane’s “straight-pride song, called ‘I Like Pussy,’” all the straight couples in the audience will be invited on stage to make out. “There are some gay activists who are upset about that. So someone’s always pissed off,” Maris says. He’s used to it, though, after two-plus decades. With such longevity, the lineup of Maris’s band has inevitably changed through the years. “I now have some mortals that are celebrated veterans in the local scene and na- tionally,” he says. But of course, they all play as different characters. Guitarist Patrick Good- win, who is Kermit the Fag, joined the F.O.D. after playing in Pansy Division, a long-running gay rock band from San Francisco. “They were the fi rst and they were pioneers. But he’s no longer in that band. He’s in mine. Because I’m more magnifi cent,” Maris explains. There’s also bassist Rocky Ramjett of the Fabulous Boogienauts. “When he joined, we were trying to come up with the name for him, and I said, ‘So what’s your kink?’” Maris recalls. “And he goes, ‘I’m a full-on sodomite.’” So Ramjett became Baron von Buttfucker. The group is rounded out by Green Druid drummer Mikey Honiotes, who performs as Donga Summer, and guitarist Philo Suds- berry, who was part of Blister 66, a popular Denver band back in the early 2000s. Suds- berry is the group’s only straight member, but he performs as drag queen Miss Steak Diane. Maris has caught almost as much fl ak for the concept of a straight drag queen as he did for the band’s original moniker. “A lot of mortals are not political, necessarily, and they don’t feel strongly, necessarily, about causes,” Maris muses. “But they don’t want to appear that they’re not.” L’Whor is Steak Diane’s “drag mother” of sorts, showing him the ropes on makeup, hair, performance and more. While L’Whor acknowledges there are straight men who wear drag in a one-off, mocking manner, that’s not what Sudsberry is doing. “Drag is an art form that is for everybody to express and try to the best of their abilities,” she says. “There’s a lot of straight people that do drag and try drag, and Steak has now created this as a persona. They care about their aesthetic; they care about their makeup and how it looks; they’ve invested time and thought into it. “I can tell you that Steak Diane has put more effort into their drag persona than some drag queens that have been doing it consistently for three years,” L’Whor adds. “It’s about respect and caring and space. Steak never goes out of their way to think that just because they’re in drag, that it al- lows them a pass to act or be however they want. They’re always asking questions and learning and being respectful. ... I think everybody has a little bit of that in-depth persona — which could be a drag persona — in them, and it’s just about when it comes out. Sometimes it takes some makeup, a dress and some rock music.” For his part, Maris is proud of Sudsberry. “I like things that build a bridge,” he says. “At one time, mortals would have never thought of doing something that was considered gay. I think it’s a good thing that they’re doing it now.” L’Whor says that Maris, in both his music and his performance art, exemplifi es how the LGBTQ+ community cannot be put in a box, and that’s particularly palpable at his annual Halloween showcase. “The music is intense, but it’s not in a way of making you fearful of it,” L’Whor says. “I think it’s queer music personifi ed in a very different light. We think of a lot of the queer music as our divas — our Diana Rosses and our Chers, and this idea of love and glitter and ‘Dancing Queen.’ Instead, this is really hard-rock music, punk music that has queer words and experiences in it. ... So it just proves that there’s genres and niches for everybody; not everybody’s into our classic divas. And sometimes, this is where they feel like they’re more connected as a queer person.” L’Whor, who has also spent time with the mortal Maris, describes him as kind and genial, with a calming presence: “One of the things I really enjoyed the fi rst time meet- ing is that we sat at a bar — Maris does not drink — and we just talked about their com- ing up in the music scene, their connection with drag, how things have changed with... not necessarily inclusivity, but the way that more pieces of the queer community can be included. The last three years, Maris always expressed to me wanting to include more elements of the queer community in their performances. “You can tell that he has such an ad- miration for art and music and people’s expression, but also making sure that he’s so meticulous about his music and his shows,” L’Whor continues. “And it comes out at the showcases.” As he looks forward to his big send-off at Herman’s before once again retreating to his lair, Maris also refl ects on his impact. Never identifying as a musician, only a “promo- tional performance artist” out to spread the word about local bands, he spent years carv- ing out a queer space in the local rock scene, and the undead bandleader is pleased to see a rise in LGBTQ+-fronted bands, especially locally. The Denver scene is his passion, and the idea of more freedom of expression for Mile High bands is enough to almost make him break character. “We are living in a time where these bands can exist in a scene that, twenty years ago, wouldn’t have allowed a trans mortal to be fronting a band,” he says. “People wouldn’t have known how to take it, other than the most underground of the punks. But now you see every walk of life standing up and supporting trans mortals, gay mortals, queer mortals. It’s changing. “It doesn’t change my plan at all; I’m still killing them,” Maris quickly adds. “It’s just — that’s something you should be proud of.” Maris the Great and the F.O.D., 8 p.m. Friday, October 27, with Jessica L’Whor, Typhoid Mary, Sin on Six, Honeybunches of Death and A Vintage Future; Herman’s Hideaway, 1578 South Broadway, $30, hermanshideaway.com. Music continued from page 22 After the Halloween show at Herman’s Hideaway, Maris will retreat to his lair. EVAN SEMÓN
