Lecken_25

Come this Easter, it's time to hop off our winter crosses and get nailed on the dance floor. Lecken knows you can't spell resurrection without anagramming erections.
She is Risen.
Our Kreuzwerk home beckons.
Our fascist feudal lords the world over can temper tantrum all they want.
Our misguided brothers can nibble Snax all they want.
We'll be getting nourished and revved and ready to blow.
What a wonderful disgrace.

Our dancefloors are libidinally-charged wombs of groove, our darkrooms are unspeakable, and our lineups adventurous. We don’t belong to anyone in particular. As a xenofeminist party, we’re committed to a plurality of pleasures: hivesex_nomadic fetishisms_masculine femininity_decolonized masculinity_feminist whores_king kong_non-possessive sex_inter-species solidarity_desire without a subject_comfortable alienation. There’s no need for you to end Lecken as the same queen who arrived.

Dress the fuck up or dress to undress.
Come as you are, expect to become someone else.
Welcome new faces, look after those you came with.
Our politics is what we do together.