As an 18-year old delinquent with a mind full of dreams and psychedelics, The Bay Area was a sort of Mecca for this SoCal bred misfit. While there were scattered pockets of like-minded freaks in the LA / OC badlands, Central & Northern California were (are) ground zero for epic outdoor dance parties. So, imagine my excitement when i found myself on a converted school bus full of beautiful ,wild-eyed ravers headed to a beach just outside of San Francisco for a weekend of way-too-baggy pants, chemical-induced confusion, and reckless group transcendence. 3 bathroom stops and a couple of tiny, suspicious pieces of paper later, we were on top of a beachfront cliff looking out over a couple thousand weirdos getting the fuck down under the full moon. Some scrappy-looking fellow in a fedora was playing some really mischievous space-dub disco that all at once scared the shit out of me, made me realize some profound things about my spiritual development, and sounded like nothing I had ever heard before. I instantly transformed into a time-traveling warrior shaman whose magical power was to dance like an idiot and make boxes appear from thin air. It was only after I had arrived safely back to earth that I found out I was at one of the now legendary Wicked gatherings, and that scrappy dude who was freaking me out in the best possible way was DJ Garth.
Now here I am writing this, and Garth is going to be playing an ALL VINYL set ALL NIGHT LONG at Public Works on Saturday, Nov. 10th. It just may be time for a serious trip down memory lane. Care to join? -Manitous