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  Book Feature "Class of 88"

 

 

 

 


Wayne-anthony.com
Coming up next from the author is an interactive DVD, which you can preview on his website.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1988 was the Summer of Love in UK, when Acid House flooded the dance floors and Wayne Anthony, an illegal dance party promoter made - and lost - hundreds of thousands of dollars, took vast amounts of drugs, and put his life on the line to further the youth revolution. "Class of 88" is his account of how Acid House changed his life and the world, as he organizes the infamous Genesis raves, breaks into warehouses, gets menaced criminals, kidnapped, and threatened with murder. That may sounds like a day in the life of every club promoter you know, but Wayne tells it all with an eye for detail and a flair for telling a good story.

Raves.com brings you these exclusive excerpts - if you like what you read, click on the link below to download the entire 196-page book!

Class of 88: Introduction

"This is a true story set in London between 1988 and 1990. The controversial drug Ecstasy, combined with the sound of Acid House music, is accredited with evoking a dramatic transformation in attitudes towards love and life. It could be compare to the hippie movement, LSD, and rock-festival atmospheres like Woodstock, except the Sixties was too soon after the oppression of the Forties and Fifties for true multicultural unification.

Party promoters in the late Eighties achieved the dream of tens of thousands of people from all walks of life, colours and creeds, who were gathered together in huge warehouses, aircraft hangars, film studios and grass fields. Every Saturday night, thrill-seekers set out on magical mystery tours in search of excitement, adventure and the biggest illegal dance parties ever.

The country was in the dark clutches of recession, discontent and massive unemployment, which produced an aggressive, impatient society with no positive outlook on life. Football violence was high on the list; each match day began and ended in territorial battles between raging rival groups from around the country.

1988 marked the grand arrival of a new style of music, fashion, night life, love drug, and a newly found direction for thousands of ordinary people. The media labelled these events 'Acid parties' after the drug LSD but, in fact, the events were so called because of the style of music being played at that time: fast repetitive beats complementing a backdrop of House-based sounds which were imported from the USA. Reputable organisations would break and enter storage warehosues, then hires sound and lighting crews to transform the huge ugly buildings in to state-of-the-art dance arenas. In the beginning these events were small covert get-togethers atteneded by a select few...."

And from Chapter 2... "Meanwhile, the party was in full swing. People were dancing everywhere and on top of anything that would hold their weight. At 5 a.m. a fire bell rang out from the warehouse next door where we had a lookout. Shit! That meant Dibble was on the way!

My stepfaster was looking after the money for us; when the alarm went off we decided the money should be taken to a safe house. I ran upstairs long the balcony into the main room and to the bar, where by now Nikki was giving the drinks away free. I told her the score and we ran down the stairs to the front, gave her all the door cash, which she hid, and escorted to the main entrance.

The police had arrived and shut off the electricity; sadly, the party was over. Everyone had to leave. We stepped ino the street through a corridor of laughing policemen, who were taking the piss out of everyone. Bods with wobbling jaws were walking out bare cheseted into the cold winter air, sweat and steam rising from their bodies.

'OK then, who's the organiser? Does anyone know who put this party on?'

I heard a policemen ask as we slipped around the corner. This was probably Dibble's first encounter with E'd-up party animals and I think they were quite surprised. None of us was stopped, so we met up at my place to have a count-up. We'd made two grand profit, which wasn't bundles but a fucking good start. We sat down and went over the night's events, still rushing from the pills swallowed earlier.

'So what do you reckon?' I was asked.

Well, after four weeks of attending different clubs and house parties, with very little sleep and popping untold pills, and having seen our party brough to a premature halt, and having had to abandon all our equipment behind, I still felt pretty pukka. The planning, lighting and sound production and music had all worked like a dream.

'I reckon we should have another party as soon as possible."

Click here to download the entire "Class of 88" book
uses the free Acrobat Reader from www.adobe.com

Thanks to Wayne Anthony for sharing his book with us!

 

ace="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">   Book Feature "Class of 88"

 

 

 

 


Wayne-anthony.com
Coming up next from the author is an interactive DVD, which you can preview on his website.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1988 was the Summer of Love in UK, when Acid House flooded the dance floors and Wayne Anthony, an illegal dance party promoter made - and lost - hundreds of thousands of dollars, took vast amounts of drugs, and put his life on the line to further the youth revolution. "Class of 88" is his account of how Acid House changed his life and the world, as he organizes the infamous Genesis raves, breaks into warehouses, gets menaced criminals, kidnapped, and threatened with murder. That may sounds like a day in the life of every club promoter you know, but Wayne tells it all with an eye for detail and a flair for telling a good story.

Raves.com brings you these exclusive excerpts - if you like what you read, click on the link below to download the entire 196-page book!

Class of 88: Introduction

"This is a true story set in London between 1988 and 1990. The controversial drug Ecstasy, combined with the sound of Acid House music, is accredited with evoking a dramatic transformation in attitudes towards love and life. It could be compare to the hippie movement, LSD, and rock-festival atmospheres like Woodstock, except the Sixties was too soon after the oppression of the Forties and Fifties for true multicultural unification.

Party promoters in the late Eighties achieved the dream of tens of thousands of people from all walks of life, colours and creeds, who were gathered together in huge warehouses, aircraft hangars, film studios and grass fields. Every Saturday night, thrill-seekers set out on magical mystery tours in search of excitement, adventure and the biggest illegal dance parties ever.

The country was in the dark clutches of recession, discontent and massive unemployment, which produced an aggressive, impatient society with no positive outlook on life. Football violence was high on the list; each match day began and ended in territorial battles between raging rival groups from around the country.

1988 marked the grand arrival of a new style of music, fashion, night life, love drug, and a newly found direction for thousands of ordinary people. The media labelled these events 'Acid parties' after the drug LSD but, in fact, the events were so called because of the style of music being played at that time: fast repetitive beats complementing a backdrop of House-based sounds which were imported from the USA. Reputable organisations would break and enter storage warehosues, then hires sound and lighting crews to transform the huge ugly buildings in to state-of-the-art dance arenas. In the beginning these events were small covert get-togethers atteneded by a select few...."

And from Chapter 2... "Meanwhile, the party was in full swing. People were dancing everywhere and on top of anything that would hold their weight. At 5 a.m. a fire bell rang out from the warehouse next door where we had a lookout. Shit! That meant Dibble was on the way!

My stepfaster was looking after the money for us; when the alarm went off we decided the money should be taken to a safe house. I ran upstairs long the balcony into the main room and to the bar, where by now Nikki was giving the drinks away free. I told her the score and we ran down the stairs to the front, gave her all the door cash, which she hid, and escorted to the main entrance.

The police had arrived and shut off the electricity; sadly, the party was over. Everyone had to leave. We stepped ino the street through a corridor of laughing policemen, who were taking the piss out of everyone. Bods with wobbling jaws were walking out bare cheseted into the cold winter air, sweat and steam rising from their bodies.

'OK then, who's the organiser? Does anyone know who put this party on?'

I heard a policemen ask as we slipped around the corner. This was probably Dibble's first encounter with E'd-up party animals and I think they were quite surprised. None of us was stopped, so we met up at my place to have a count-up. We'd made two grand profit, which wasn't bundles but a fucking good start. We sat down and went over the night's events, still rushing from the pills swallowed earlier.

'So what do you reckon?' I was asked.

Well, after four weeks of attending different clubs and house parties, with very little sleep and popping untold pills, and having seen our party brough to a premature halt, and having had to abandon all our equipment behind, I still felt pretty pukka. The planning, lighting and sound production and music had all worked like a dream.

'I reckon we should have another party as soon as possible."

Click here to download the entire "Class of 88" book
uses the free Acrobat Reader from www.adobe.com

Thanks to Wayne Anthony for sharing his book with us!

 

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