Bikini Lounge
Benjamin Leatherman

It's Saturday night and you're in the mood to dance. You're tired of EDM and cover charges. You don't want to listen to Top 40s or old school hip-hop. Basically, you have two options now — stay at home and shimmy in your mirror to a Spotify playlist you made or head down to Bikini Lounge off Grand and 15th avenues and get crazy to DJ Boris' unique mix of genres and styles. Post punk, surf rock, French pop, oldies, and even some Mexican jams like Selena and "El Noa Noa" are all on regular rotation, making it easier to do the twist (a fun dance) than grind on folk (a scary dance). Plus, the drinks are dive bar cheap, with pitchers of PBR being only $3.50, and if you need a break from shaking your thang, you can always play pool for a couple songs.

Mark Peskin is a gigantic nerd, and proud of it, too. Like any successful geekazoid, the 34-year-old has parlayed his niche passion into getting paid. As DJ Apollynon, Peskin gets to combine his longstanding love affair with retro goth, industrial, and other doomy throwback genres at nightclubs and local fetish fetes with a particular yen for colorful cosplay. And he's just as old-school rivethead as the classic songs he's spinning. More than a decade ago, Apollynon dropped Covenant, Nitzer Ebb, and Sisters of Mercy while adorned in spikes, towering Doc Martens, and goofy goggles at the Nile Theater's and Boston's notorious industrial nights in 2000 and 2001. These days, however, his getups may be a bit more dork-oriented (read: Cobra Commander or a pink sex robot) but his sounds have remained just as sinister. Every Saturday, Apollynon and girlfriend, Sidney Slaughter (a.k.a. DJ Angel Toxin), crank out relentlessly gloomy audio at their popular City of Madness night at Club 24. And no one seems to bat an eyelash if he's wearing a unicorn mask at the time, probably because they're sporting some freaky-deaky duds themselves.

Somewhere up in the hinterlands of North Scottsdale, Martin Stääf is likely very busy crafting some of arguably the world's finest (and most brutal) dubstep tracks. The 34-year-old electronic musician and DJ, better known by his nom de guerre Liquid Stranger, is big on blending insane amounts of thuggish bass into his fierce mixes that he posts to his Soundcloud page (www.soundcloud.com/liquid-stranger) and burns out sub-woofers at gigs throughout North America and around the world. Inside his studio, Stääf conjures what he jokingly refers to on Facebook as "dubstep sorcery," hewn from such disparate audio elements as sci-fi clips, reggae, big band music, and probably the belches of Satan himself. Though he's sort of a reclusive fellow, Stääf hasn't completely shied away from the local EDM scene. He's performed a few times at local dubstep night UK Thursdays, as well as at the Monarch Theatre and defunct District 8 Warehouse, and he's collaborated with local producer Nick "Sluggo" Suddarth. One of their jointly produced tracks, "Stalkers VIP," is filled with wicked wub-wub, and listening to it recalls how Stääf's mother once famously described his music as akin to being "boiled alive by a primitive headhunter tribe in the Amazon." We kind of feel the same way, except we're loving every second of it.

Whatchu know about M2? Mention his name to other local DJs and you'll get nothing but mad respect for the esteemed platter jock (real name: Michael McDowell) and his meticulous mixing, cutting, scratching, and selecting talents. Ditto for folks from the Valley's hip-hop community and pretty much anyone else who's heard him dominate the decks on Power 98.3 during its mix shows or attended his club nights at the Roxy in Scottsdale and elsewhere.

"M2 is one of those guys that took the time to learn the ins and outs of hip-hop culture, the music, and everything else about it. So he knows his shit," says Fact 135 of his fellow DJ. "And he's so well-rounded on all levels of DJing, whether it's the skill, the knowledge, the history. He's so versatile its ridiculous." Yup, M2 is much beloved, even outside of the Valley. The Source gave him major props a few years back by including him in a list of the top 30 radio DJs in the nation. He also came damn close to winning the Red Bull Thre3style Nationals in 2011. And when M2 worked a guest mix session on influential L.A. station Power 106 last summer, its was widely lauded by the listening audience. While we're glad that SoCal got a taste of M2's skills, we're more than a little selfish and want to keep him all up on our airwaves.

David "CIK" Sankey has an aversion to the local club scene. The 36-year-old DJ is more likely to be found doing his thing at warehouses, event spaces, or off-the-radar dance fests in the desert. And what about the danceterias of Scottsdale or elsewhere? Eh, not so much. Frankly, he's more into either gigging for gigantic European crowds or Valley ravers, both of which are more receptive to his EDM genres of choice (industrial hardcore, gabber, darkcore, and industrial techno) and approach to crafting soundscapes. "Mixes are generally my way of telling a story or taking someone on an auditory journey," Sankey says. In 2010 and 2012, for instance, he took more than 80,000 people on such a jaunt at the high-profile Ground Zero Festival in the Netherlands. Closer to home, Sankey, who runs influential DJ collective Arizona Hardcore, has played massives like Nocturnal Wonderland in California and Bang! in Philadelphia. He also has built a reputation as one of the more prominent and die-hard performers in the local rave scene, having worked more than 500 underground parties in the past 17 years. His Phoenix audiences may never get as big as those across the pond, a fact he doesn't seem to mind. "A lot of the local DJs are okay with being a superstar in the state of Arizona," Sankey says. "That was never my goal."

Les Sias is nothing if not humble. Back in April, the 30-year-old local DJ and producer absolutely killed it during the Phoenix regionals of the DMC World Championships, but he modestly shrugs off any notion of being the best in town. A strong case could be made otherwise, based on his victory at the contest — part of the prestigious yearly worldwide DJ competition — not to mention his mad abilities at turntable artistry as LES 735. The big win, which earned Sias a ticket to NYC for the U.S. finals in August (when he placed seventh), only reinforced his cred among local DJs or anyone who's witnessed his well-plotted turntable routines, fierce cuts, and complex tricks during highly creative sets at local hip-hop joints. Sias began acquiring such skills during bedroom spin sessions as a teen, and has kept up the wikki-wikki thing ever since. In the ensuing years, he refined his arsenal of techniques involving the Technics while backing the rappers of Central Products, as a member of the Avenue of the Arts urban collective, producing tracks for Mykr Fiend X, or holding it down on the weekly Rhyme & Reason show every late Friday night/early Saturday morning on 101.1 The Beat. On the radio, at the clubs, or in battle, LES735 definitely is dope.

Ramsey Higgins is quite prolific when it comes to the DJ game. He's down with Traktor, skilled with Serato, and knows his way around both a Numark and a pair of Technics 1200s. So skilled is the 36-year-old, who performs as Ruthless Ramsey, that he's also an instructor with Scottsdale Community College's illustrious DJ program. And this prof has a lesson he'd like to lay down: "I'm a turntablist," Higgins says. "We can spin anything."

Just some of the usual self-aggrandizing you'd associate with DJs, right? Yeah, we thought that, too, until we saw him on YouTube backing up such swag with a storm of scratching — on a double cassette deck. Higgins is renowned across the Internet for his singular aptitude of turning boomboxes into scratch factories (accomplished by ripping the doors off and futzing with the rollers, flanges, and pause button) to mimic chops, flares, and chirps of pro turntablism, only without the turntable. It's his claim to fame that he's been perfecting for more than 25 years and has nabbed him worldwide notoriety, half a million YouTube views, the nickname "Captain of the Cassette," and a snazzy skill set to teach both SCC students and a few more famous apprentices, namely, superstars like Jazzy Jeff and Qbert, both of whom have hit up Higgins for tips. The scribes at DJ Times, however, playfully tweeted about the video, "DJ Ruthless Ramsey thinks he's hot cause he can scratch on cassette tape. Problem is, REAL DJs only use reel-to-reel!" Don't put it past him, because he might perfect that skill next.

Neither Sean "Senbad" Badger nor Pete "Supermix" Salaz are particular shy about their love for DJ Qbert. So after the Monarch Theatre co-owners, both of whom are considered ultra-talented DJs in their own right, got word that the renowned turntablist was eager to perform at their joint last November, Badger estimates it took "like two seconds" to book the event. After all, showcasing influential DJs and turntable superstars like Qbert is one of many reasons they opened the Monarch back in 2012. "Our first reaction was, 'Hell, yeah, we'd love to do that,'" Badger says. "We didn't go looking for the show; they came to us." It's something that happens frequently, as numerous selectors specialized in turntablism (a DJ subgenre from the 1980s where performers manipulate records, decks, and mixers to create a dizzying array of scratching and pimp sounds) have approached Badger and Salaz about potential gigs. Power 98.3's M2 has amazed crowds here with his vinyl trickery, as have fellow Valley scratch gurus Logan "Elecment" Howard, Fresh 85, and Akshen. And NYC's Roli Rho practically melted his wax in April with lightning-quick hands and phenomenal moves. So why do these scratch kings come to Monarch? Its high-end 30,000-watt sound system doesn't hurt. Plus, other club owners tend to shy away from the old-school art form in favor of more trendy DJ sounds, whereas Badger and Salaz are big on keeping the tradition alive. "It brings back that early era of DJs," Badger says, "And exposes old traditions to some younger generations as well." Word.

Smashboxx

Subtlety has never been Smashboxx's style. (Hell, it's never been Scottsdale's style, period.) Like most other Old Town clubs, the overriding philosophy at this Indian Plaza favorite is to go all out and as over-the-top as possible. So when the proprietors decided to beef up the dance digs last October, they added more room by relocating the DJ booth, more boom with additional Dynacord subwoofers, and plenty of extra color with a few dozen more LED spotlights. Its amps up the already manic energy of Smashboxx as DJs hurl electro-house hits at the sunken dance floor mobbed with clubgoers and awash in a sea of light and pulsating sound. And if the music switches over to the "Imperial March" and a couple of sexy Darth Vaders (complete with lightsabers) come out of nowhere, it's about to get even more cray-cray. No, seriously. It usually means some high roller's popped for a $900 bottle, resulting in female staff bearing a custom-made diamond-shaped champagne presenter while dressed in either Star Wars, Ghostbusters, or Rocky costumes while the respective movie's theme music plays. The Force is strong with Smashboxx.

Bar Smith

Thomy Hoefer is sort of a Renaissance man when it comes to nightlife. The DJ and visual artist has a knack for crafting ear-pleasing electro mixes, unique-looking club staging, and eye-catching video feasts, which are projected onto the walls at the events he helps promote. Oh, and he's good with cocktails, too. One of the latest things that Hoefer, who performs as Prince Money Money, has been involved with recently that's gone golden, quite literally, is Foul Play. After William Reed pulled the plug on his popular Sticky Fingers at Bar Smith, Hoefer (a former resident of the night) pulled a Nick Fury and assembled DJs from four of the Valley's biggest weeklies for a different sort of dance fete to take its place and "toy with people's expectations of a party." He brought on board The Blunt Club's Pickster One, J.Paul from UK Thursdays, and Solstice's Bigie Meanmugg to help run the night, which launched last November at Bar Smith, and things blew up shortly thereafter.

Each DJ contributes in their own way, such as Meanmugg tackling graphic design or J.Paul and Pickster helping book EDM guests like Tittsworth, Willy Joy, and Butch Clancy. And then there are the phantasmagorical video streams conjured up by Hoefer and his fellow Gestalt Theory artist Aaron Olmstead that are featured throughout Bar Smith during Foul Play. The imagery runs the gamut from old school video game graphics to dreamy maelstroms of color and accentuates the “enticing fever-dreams” of music that’s on tap every week. Typically, there’s bleeding-edge nu-disco, house, and moombahton upstairs, hip-hop and trap downstairs, and a helluva lot of fun throughout. Probably one of Foul Play's most popular draws is its photo booth concept, another Hoefer brainchild, whereby patrons can utilize such props as over-the-top fake weaponry (read: butcher knives, guns, bats) that's been spray-painted gold. Plus, there's also a boombox. Pictures are then rendered in black and white (except for the props in them) and posted to Facebook. According to J.Paul, it's just part of the vibe of Foul Play. "We wanted it to be the kind of place where you just let loose and do something that you wouldn't normally do," he says. Stay gold, y'all, stay gold.

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