Friday, February 8th • Bar opens 8PM, Green Room 9PM, Club 10PM.
Flash & Desert Hearts present:
Mikey Lion ( Desert Hearts )
Lee Reynolds ( Desert Hearts )
Part mythical desert harlequin, part modern soul conductor, Mikey Lion is more than a DJ––He’s a freak of nature and a controller of energy. The San Diego-native has earned a dusty mystique over the past few years as the center of the Desert Hearts movement and as a house and techno provocateur with a stage presence that suggests he will ride this wave all the way to the top. If there's one thing Mikey does well, it's get the party started.
Lion has brought the mothafuckin' ruckus to the stages of Lightning in a Bottle, the dustiest storms at Burning Man, and The Do LaB at Coachella, earning nods from Claude VonStroke, Jamie Jones, and Green Velvet in the process. In doing so, Lion and his signature top hat have developed a boisterous voice in the House & Techno scene with strong tribal, hip-hop, and psychedelic elements.
Desert Hearts has given rise to a family of thousands and it's safe to call it a bonafide movement of love. And while Desert Hearts Records launched in 2014 as a totally-free record label, pushes the sonic aesthetic of the scene, the crew’s busy international calendar of bookings has the DH message spreading far and wide. At the center of it all is Mikey Lion, the dusty prince of desert hearts, a beacon of weird far and wide, and one of this generation’s most compelling agents of love.
Just as rave culture was making its first waves in the UK in 1988, a mad English kid named Lee Reynolds rode his BMX bike across the Atlantic to Los Angeles, carrying with him dreams of big air and sunny skies. He was as wild then as he is now, it’s just that on two wheels, Reynolds’ lack of abandon resulted in broken bones, not broken beats. In 1992, he limped off the ramp one last time and soon found himself lost to electronic psychedelia, and thusly one of the West Coast’s finest DJs began his path to the Desert Hearts movement and the hysteria he now conjures with every performance.
Now, a quarter century later, Reynolds has a lifetime’s worth of experience bringing the weird and the wonderful to the dancefloor. He earned his chops up and down the West Coast in the dance scene’s dustier institutions––Moontribe, Moonshake, LiB––That’s where he developed his endlessly wide palate, penchant for mysticism, and an understanding that a dance party should be a spiritual experience.
“When I DJ, I want people to feel ecstatic, in a zone, in the moment, like the only thing that matters is the dance,” he says. “I don’t want to play music that people can dance to, I want to play music that makes people dance. I want it to sound like aliens are about to land on the dancefloor.”
Dance music now is so often about fast rises and immediate gratification, but Lee Reynolds’ story is a reminder that some beats taste better when slowly fried over the course of 25 years. “I’ve been obsessed with this shit forever and I’ve always believed the madness was coming,” says Reynolds. Well, the madness has commenced, and it seems like it’s here for good––and Lee Reynolds is conducting the score.