I'm not one to resort to hyperbole, but the party I'm throwing on Saturday night is going to be the greatest thing ever to happen to anyone in America.
Let me break it down for you.
It's called ATOMIKA. It's a all-night post-apocalyptic dance rager. Everyone is going to get dressed up like sexy Mad Max motherfuckers. It'll be held at a secret location in west LA, that we're decking out with 3-D mushroom clouds, lasers, and insane lighting. We're brewing our own beer for it -- Blitzkrieg Hop IPA and Lord Humungous Hefeweizen. We'll be having adorable ladies (some of whom will be on rollerskates, because safety third) roaming around, offering test-tube shots of declious nuclear waste. There will be a room-sized art installation featuring massive prints of nuclear blasts, courtesy of artist Tiger Phino. We'll have aerial performers (behold, the mighty Emily Pennington!!!), fire spinners, cage dancers, and eye-frying visuals from HaiJak. It's going until 6 AM, so tell your mom you're sleeping over at a friend's house.
I haven't even talked about the music yet, have I?
You know how in Bollywood movies, they have the whole cast come out and do a big musical number at the very end, so you get to hang out with all your favorite characters one last time? To me, our lineup is kind of like that -- an absolute who's-who of every DJ I've loved over the past few years, all together at once.
We've got Solovox, a Portland-based producer whom this blog has a well-documented boner for, bringing his turbo-charged funk to bear. (Seriously, check out the height-of-subtlety that is "Kill You With My Sex"; just don't do it at work.) We've got divaDanielle, aka intrepidLA's fairy godmother, who's new track "Funky Sheriff" sounds like a gang of Burners kicking open the door to Eric Clapton's studio in 1974; Wolfie, the Steampunk Saloon badass responsible for blowing the roof of the Mystikal Misfits party last year, as well as the upcoming Boomtown; breakbeat maestro Loomer, who'll be tearing it up at Lightning In A Bottle later this summer; and Nick The Neck, the mesmerizing tech-house alter-ego of Pumpkin (whom we've written one or two things about.) Also coming to bring joy to the wasteland are Fleetwood Smack (supremely ass-shakey); Squachek (oh-my-god-my-face-what-is-happening); Hippiechick (try not bopping your head, I dare you); and The Fuzz ("sir, please come down off that table and stop rocking so hard.")
Forget feeling "fine" -- it's the end of the world as we know it, and you're gonna feel awwwesome.