What it was like
Nobody actually knows who is under the mask, and after a few minutes you stop caring, which is the whole enchantment.
An anonymous producer in a glowing animal head plays live drums over shimmering, tribal, unreasonably emotional electronic music, and the result lands somewhere between a rave and a ritual. The cult following treats every performance like a secret handshake — people who found this on their own and have never quite been able to explain it to anyone who has not stood in the room while the drums come in.
A small, sweaty, transcendent night on Kettner Boulevard, one Thursday in September, in a venue that has hosted exactly this kind of thing for decades and knows precisely what it is doing with it.
Bring the friend who likes a little magic with their music, and let it carry both of you somewhere else.