FRASER MUIR: From London Raves to SF Stages

FRASER MUIR: From London Raves to SF Stages — Fraser Muir on Mandy, Magic and What It Means to Build Room for Queer Joy 

Words by Kenshi Westover | Photo this page by @takotuesgay  | Photo following page by @nick.a.cheng

When Fraser Muir decided to throw MANDY, a 9-hour UK underground rave landing in San Francisco on Saturday, July 18th, he wasn’t interested in importing a carbon copy. He wanted to bring a vision — and let SF’s incredible local talent execute it.

The name itself layers meaning. “’Mandy’ is slang for ‘Molly’ in the UK,” Fraser explains, “but it’s more than a cheeky wink. MANDY’s a persona — a mystical person, kind of like Puck from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. She’s the girl who brings a party together. Bright, bubbly, exciting. She’s a sprite.”

That Shakespeare reference isn’t random. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream happens in the middle of July, right? And in that play, you have four lovers who enter the woods and get put under a spell by Puck. They come in with these awkward love triangles, all yearning and wanting, and then the spell gets placed on them. Suddenly they’re twisted up in feelings they didn’t know they had. Meanwhile, magical and mystical things are happening around them — visceral, sexual, bacchanalian, otherworldly. At the end, they wander out thinking ‘it was a dream,’ but they’ve learned something about themselves and they’re happier for it.”

“Mandy is very much like the Puck character,” Fraser says. “She’s sprinkling fairy dust over all the lovers, creating this beautiful, magical, mystical scene where people can have a mind-altering experience in a beautiful way.”

That magic requires actual space. When asked about the venue choice, Fraser is emphatic: “The room is big and airy. Both floors are going to feel part of the same venue—it’s not going to feel like you’re choosing between separate rooms. It’s cohesive and intentional.” The word “room” itself carries weight. “In British industry talk, ‘the room’ means the space you’re creating. But it also means: give me the space to breathe. Give me the room to exist. Not to be crowded out or excluded. The opposite of suffocation.”

This philosophy extends to the music lineup. MANDY centers UK garage, bassline, and breakbeat — genres often ghettoized in SF’s queer scene, kept separate from mainstage warehouse raves. “I play these genres in queer spaces that don’t often get played,” Fraser explains. “They’re associated here with straight hardcore clubs, but in the UK, that’s not the case at all. UK hip-hop artists blow up through collaborations with electronic producers doing UKG and baseline tracks. Artists like Stormzy and Baby Keem came up that way.”

His solution? A salad, not a melting pot. “When you melt things down, they become this homogenous goo and individuality gets erased,” he says. “This salad has all these different ingredients people aren’t used to seeing together. They’ve been taught these don’t belong together. But when they taste it and see how delicious and surprising it is, that’s where the shift happens.”

This extends to the DJ lineup: 12 of 14 are SF locals. “We have so much fucking talent here that I didn’t need to import UK talent. All I needed to do was give our incredible talent permission to execute this vision because they get it.” He told each DJ: “The build genres are Garage, UKG, Techno, Trance, and Bassline, but this is not a straitjacket. I hired each of you knowing who you are as artists. I trust you. Bring it. Play everything you felt you couldn’t play at a gay event before because you’ve been limited or obligated to hold back. Melt the decks and our faces.”

The party itself reflects UK rave culture: a chill-out area with couches, blankets, tea, and baked goods so people can rest without leaving. “That’s how we do it in the UK,” Fraser says. “Give people a place to rest so they don’t feel obligated to party all fucking night.”

But the heart of MANDY comes from Fraser’s own history. “The first time I went to a rave like this in London, it was called Adonis. I walked in and felt like I’d entered a movie. Thousands of the most beautiful men, drag queens so camp and grungy, sexual energy off the chain. And 

I remember thinking: I cannot believe I get to experience this not in spite of being queer, but because of it. For the first time, queerness was an asset. A genuine benefit. Not a liability.”

“If MANDY can be that for one young queer kid,” he says, “then it will all have been worth it. That’s who I’m making it for.”

For more info on MANDY go to IG: @mandy.sf_  tickets at  posh.vip/e/mandy-1