Danny Wang is a friend of ours, who you probably know. Despite his pedigree of gnar (a keystone member of legendary Inland Empire punk phenomenon with scatalogical leanings, Ralph Macchio), he actually spends the bulk of his time reading contemporary social theory, or working to educate and rehabilitate the mentally disabled. He also knows more rap lyrics by heart than anyone you know. How many people can there even be who have a deep familiarity with the work of both Freeky Zeeky and Anthony Giddens? I for one don’t really fuck with Giddens or Zeeky like that, but Danny most certainly does.

I digress.

Anyway, our good friend, who is rad and generous and a barrel of monkeys to boot, has had the misfortune of breaking his foot in a way that I understand is pretty bleak. He’s pretty much housebound for months and could use a night on the town.

Our plan? Sit him behind the decks in the booth at Moon Dogg, encouraging him to indulge his love for yelling along to dipset songs between slugs of tecate. He gets a night on the town, we get to hear decades of never-seen-the-light-of-day mixtape classics. I think it’s a win win. Come jam with us.

all our love as usual,
Jams (on behalf of Brother Reade)