No bullshit, Justin Caruso is fire.
This dude is a DJ alchemist and a set of turntables is his philosopher’s stone. He transmuted raw audio into club gold using the perfect ratio: ¼ obscure house music sample, 2/7 popular edm hits, ⅛ early 2000 aughts, ⅓ rap cuts, and a dash of rock music.
This man made Purple Lamborghini* by Rick Ross do the fusion dance with Mercy* by Kanye West, resulting in a track that can only be called Purple Lamborghini Merci. This man had me trying to sing the dubstep wubs to a Skrillex song.
Behind the stage, Caruso isn’t a man of many words. Other than the occasional “How y’all doin tonite?” and crowd pleasing gestures, he doesn’t come off as a force of personality. That’s not to his detriment though, he’s a DJ, and his eclectic mixes speak for him. To the left and right of him are some insanely psychedelic visuals that would make Travis Scott blush. The club is glowed up like a blue ring octopus and deep space imagery floats on the wall.
The rest of the audience is digging it too. I watch clubgoers like a meerkat on the prairie and all I see are drunk, dancing bodies singing Smash Mouth’s All Star. He’s doing what a good DJ does: Providing a soundtrack for these people’s lives. It’s chock full of schlocky moments but people like that shit you know.
Needless to say, I’m elated, because I came fully prepared to watch a mediocre show and write about it, trying to find the good bits in all the garbage. Instead, I walked into a set that managed to merge Dark Fantasy* with High Hopes*, and filled me with some high hopes of my own.