About This Event
Doors Open:10:00 PM
Show Time:10:00 PM
This is a general admission event in The Gallery at LPR.
THUNDER is legend. The party has existed for years as a “you-had-to-know-about-it-already-to-be-there” after hours underground rock-n-roll party, run from the dirt floors of Brett’s Basement. For a party to remain a well-guarded secret like THUNDER, over the course of nearly a decade, is unprecedented in New York.
THUNDER has a folklore of its own, passed between partygoers, promoters, groupies, and the easily awestricken; stories too good to share with just anyone, too raunchy to be printed, too strange to doubt their authenticity, and too nasty to have come from any party but THUNDER.
Now, the party is going public.
THUNDER founders Herbert Holler (The Freedom Party), Iván Rodriguez (Nasty Mondays), Alcorn Minor (Bounce), and Brett Tabisel (Macaulay Culkin’s iPod) are bringing the city’s dirtiest rock-n-roll party to the basement at LPR. THUNDER, never before thrown in a public space, will retain everything that created the mystique of New York’s most talked about party: The clowns, the guest DJs, the bar-top dancing, the keg in the middle of the room, the only-in-New-York-City vibe. THUNDER is coming out from the shadows and into a whole new era.
You’ve saw three people sport the THUNDER lapel pin at the red carpet this year, the THUNDER tattoo on one of the NBA’s hottest young stars, runway models making the THUNDER hand sign during fashion week, and the hand-written THUNDER flier in the background of one of this summer’s biggest blockbusters. Now you can see what THUNDER is all about. And unlike the trailer for a Kevin James movie, THUNDER hasn’t shown you all it’s good parts yet.
Ivan Rodriguez has been behind the decks for almost two decades. His eclectic selection will make you pass from RATM to Dolly Parton without noticing that Tame Impala was in the middle. As an all terrain selector he likes his drinks cold and his music as loud as it can get without worrying if it is in tapes, vinyl or the forgotten nineties music savior support best known as cd. Whatever. Quality sound freaks, pseudo digital noise geeks and music lovers: it doesn’t really matter because the only thing you should care about when you go to a party is having fun. Shaking dance floors all over the world, from the 90s Spanish indie temple, El fantasma de los ojos azules to Nasty Mondays NYC, has given him some perspective and a great deal of training in the art of tasting elements. Artist, writer, musician and founder of congregations that became part of the secret society of urban legends (if you were there, no one would believe you) like Radio Manolo, Paulina Cupana or Thunder, his different alter egos makes it difficult to track him. If you find a party where he is performing, don’t miss it, could be the only chance you have in a lifetime.
Make Love Not Art official site
Make Love Not Art on Blogspot
Make Love Not Art on Tumblr
Make Love Not Art on Facebook
Make Love Not Art on Twitter
@makelovenotart on Instagram
DJ Ivan Rodriguez on Bandcamp
photo credits: Olga Sophie Kauppinen, Ivan Rodriguez Faba
Poster art: Ivan Rodriguez Faba
“When I was little, I had problems sleeping. I wasn’t putting myself to bed ever, really. My parents tried everything in the book to get me out, but nothing worked. One night, my dad was at the bar doing his funny dance to Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger,” and I asked him to pick me up. Less than five minutes later, I was out. Every night thereafter, he slung me over his shoulder just before bedtime and danced me to sleep—to Queen, Styx, Chicago, Meatloaf and lots and lots of Electric Light Orchestra.
ELO was our personal favorite. I ended up memorizing every word to every song off “Out of the Blue.” Anytime we were in his Honda Accord ’87, that 8-track went in. My mom had her input, too. Mostly Billy Joel, Tom Jones, maybe some Diana Ross. She tried singing me to sleep some nights, but “Why Do Fools Fall in Love” doesn’t really set the mood for deep slumber. She gave me my very first piece of vinyl—1966’s “The Best of the Beach Boys.” After the needle gave up trying to stick to that record, she handed me the soundtrack to “Hair.” When the day finally came for me to start learning the value of a dollar and buy my own music, the first tape I went out and purchased was…Run DMC’s “Raising Hell.”
How I got from 70s operatic rock, surf ditties, and Broadway musicals to hip-hop, I’ll never know. But that diversity has stuck with me through this day. Just when I pledge allegiance to some new rap artist, I’m a bloodthirsty digger searching for a new, synthetic electronic sound I heard on satellite radio or on somebody’s blog. And then I’m back frantically Googling a soul or disco sample I recognized from an old tune, or putting the finishing touches on a Dubstep mix I took way too much time obsessing over, or re-organizing my playlists so I know the difference between bounce, trap and an old dirty-South anthem.
The question of how I ended up spending half my waking hours in a nightclub is easy: I practically grew up in one. Again, my father’s to blame. He used to be the Food & Beverage Manager at Resorts Casino Hotel in Atlantic City, NJ, my hometown. I clocked in more hours at that place than some of the people on payroll. And this was the 80s, mind you, when the casino strip was as glamorous as ever: fur coats, pearl necklaces, big Cadillacs and Liberace (who I saw live…many times). The lights, the sounds, the electricity in the air, even the smells…these things never left.
Nor has my penchant for making people smile. In grade school I brought class clown to a new level. It cost me my grades, and also led to a few suspensions. But there was nothing I enjoyed more than leaving my classmates in stitches. Sometimes, even the teacher had to take a second to regain composure. I thought maybe I’d make a good Psychologist, helping people smile, so I went Premed at NYU, till I realized the night before classes started that I’d have to sit still and study a lot. (Hence the B.A..) Naturally, I tried my hand at comedy, but I couldn’t afford to be broke, and I was already getting gigs and discovering my knack for making dance floors pop. So, it was settled. I was to be a professional DJ.
Today, my career is in its 11 about every lounge, bar and dance club from Wall Street to 125 with a growing list of high-profile clients and world-renown artists, have held residences and guest spots across the globe, and claim ownership of the longest running weekly Friday-night party in NYC history: The Freedom Dance Party. After years of hard work, dedication and professionalism, my name and reputation as a DJ in the music and entertainment industry precedes itself. And though I don’t get to play nearly as much ELO at the gigs as I’d like to, and 8-track tapes (and Liberace) are long gone, my love for the music, the night, and for making people smile are still here.” – Herbert Holler
To contact Herbert Holler, send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org.