That path led to jobs at clubs like Exit, Spirit, Crobar and Pacha, as well as six consecutive seasons in Ibiza. “But I found myself promoting, networking, brokering frat parties,” he said. John’s University’s Staten Island campus. His parents, who immigrated from Egypt, saw him as a potential doctor or lawyer, and he attended two years of college at St. During his senior year, he visited the Sound Factory, an iconic megaclub on the West Side of Manhattan, and began his journey into dance music. As a teenager in the late 1990s, he held hip-hop parties while attending Xaverian High School in Brooklyn. Toma has been going to parties for most of his life. On the dance floor, a man who resembled Jose Canseco gyrated in a Trukfit tank top near a guy in a shirt with “Venmo” printed across the chest (it looked more like swag than ironic culture jamming).
section with plush chairs and bottle service.
Models in leather pants and men in scoop-neck tees occupied a V.I.P. Some lined up for $11 tall boys of Heineken. that Sunday morning, several thousand revelers bobbed beneath a lattice of white lasers.
from Sweden who performs as Pryda.īy 2 a.m. Instead the party, which took place in February inside a giant warehouse at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, had $130 backstage tickets, meaty throngs of security and Eric Prydz, a famed techno D.J. This was not an illegal rave, the kind where attendees risked nose-diving through rotten floorboards or fleeing a police raid. They wore chokers and tracksuits, accessorized with sunglasses and devil sticks. An army of young people swarmed through the darkened rectangles of industrial Brooklyn, orienteering by thudding beats and prismatic light to a former shipbuilding factory.