He talks in that fast, restless way only lifers do — remembering five different eras at once, jumping between stories like he’s mixing without headphones. One minute he’s laughing at something that sounds insane, the next he’s dropping a detail that hits you right in the chest. Nothing about him is polished. Nothing is rehearsed. There’s no PR gloss, no hero narrative — just raw, lived-in truth from someone who’s seen more chaos than most people could handle.

His journey isn’t a neat timeline; it’s a rave map filled with detours: London basements, Ibiza awakenings, Manchester battlegrounds, M25 madness, warehouse sweatboxes, Hacienda electricity, Sankeys mythology — all colliding in a way that feels too wild to be fiction. But that’s the thing with Vincent: the wild parts are the true parts.

What makes him compelling isn’t just the legacy — though Sankeys alone would cement anyone’s place in underground folklore — it’s the way he carries it. Honest. Unfiltered. Rough around the edges. Like a bloke who’d rather tell you the messy version than pretend he was some saint guiding a movement.

This story didn’t spark up at Sankeys.

Didn’t come from some Ibiza revelation.

Forget the neat, polished bullshit.

Forget the Wikipedia fairytales.

This goes way deeper —back to when the chaos first sank its claws in and refused to let go.

 

ORIGINS: FROM HEARTACRES TO ACID SMILEYS (1986–1988)

Mike Mannix: Nice one Dave. So before all the Manc madness, what was the hustle like back in your London promoter days?

David Vincent: I used to go to all the old raves… I first started promoting when I was 15, at a club called Heartacres. We had everyone from Farley Jack Master Funk to Darryl Pandy to Rick Astley to Bros… all sorts of mad bookings for a kid that age.

Mike Mannix: That’s chaos, man. One minute pure Chicago heat, next minute you’ve got Rick Astley crooning in the corner. What kinda circus were you running?

David Vincent: Exactly! And Damian Lazarus used to go there too — we’d get the same train home, chatting nonsense. We used to play football against each other before either of us had a clue what we’d become. That was ’86 to ’87.

In ’88, I went to Ibiza and discovered it properly

And after that I was going to all the warehouse raves on Commercial Road, the Peanut Factory, King’s Cross… Sunrise, Energy, Back to the Future… round the whole M25. Every weekend was a mission.

Mike Mannix: You did the circuit! Do you remember your first rave — like the ‘god moment’?

David Vincent: It was in Ibiza… but the one that hit me hardest was this warehouse on Commercial Road.

Everyone in bandanas, smiley faces, screaming “acid!”

I walked in thinking, what the fuck is this? And it was the first time I saw white people dance properly.

He bursts out laughing..

David Vincent: My mates were all black — amazing dancers — so I was like, nah, something’s wrong here!

Mike Mannix: And it broke all these barriers didn’t it? The mix of people, the madness…

David Vincent: It did. First time you’d see everyone — black, white — dancing together, properly. Changed everything.

That moment — the mix of cultures, the shock, the euphoria — would shape everything he built later. Unity wasn’t an idea; it was what he saw first hand on the floor.

RAVE COLLAPSE, REBIRTH AND THE BOOK HE’S WRITING

We slide into the early ’90s — the Great Rave Shutdown, police pressure, clubs taking over where fields once stood.

 

David Vincent: I’m writing a book called ‘The Eccentric,’ yeah? About my whole life. In the recession of rave, when everything got shut down, I started going to clubs instead. Historia. But the one I went to religiously was Rage on Thursdays — Fabio and Grooverider. That was the beginning of drum and bass. Mad times. Every week, without fail. For two years. Then after that,

I went back to studying… and then I ended up at Manchester University

This is where the story pivots — not through some master plan, but a childhood wound.

David Vincent: As a kid, my family wouldn’t let me have a birthday party. All the posh kids at school had big houses, big parties. I never did. So when I got to Manchester, I saw flyers everywhere… parties every night… I thought: these lot don’t know what they’re doing. If they can do it, I can do it.

So I hired Paradise Factory.
For my birthday.
Flyered entire streets & postered Oxford Road in the early hours of the morning,

David Vincent: 800 people turned up. And I turned away 800 more. That’s when I knew I had the bug. Couldn’t stop after that.

Mike Mannix: Fucking hell — first party and you’re already overflowing the place? That’s not catching the bug, that’s getting infected on the spot.
David Vincent: Yeah that’s it!

 

THE CHEEK THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING (1994)
He wanted bigger names. Proper house legends. So he kept calling the Ministry of Sound booker — Lynn Cosgrove — but couldn’t get through. So he did the most David Vincent thing possible.

David Vincent: We door-stopped her.

Just walked into Ministry like we owned the place

MD goes, “Who are you?” We go, “We’ve got a meeting with Lynn Cosgrove.” Total lie.

He cracks up laughing..

David Vincent: Lynn comes out like, “Who the hell are you two?” We go, “Been trying to meet you for ages!” She goes, “You cheeky sods… I like your cheek.” And boom — she gave us the Ministry tour date.

Mike Mannix: What an opportunity, fuck.

David Vincent: Exactly! That kicked everything off. We did Home nightclub, tried getting into the Hacienda — they wouldn’t let us in ‘cause we were London lads.

So we went to Cream. Told them we could get the Hacienda. We couldn’t. But a guy there gave us a date anyway. His boss went mental, but Cream backed us, and she had to go along with it. Next thing you know — we’re the Hacienda’s golden boys.

We did 16 sold-out Hacienda shows

We even had an office in the Hacienda at the end. Didn’t realise we were part of history until long after it shut.

 

FIRST CONTACT WITH SANKEYS (THE SOAP YEARS)

David Vincent: We were doing shows at Sankeys Soap before I owned it. Andy Spiro and Rupert Campbell ran it then. We actually moved our offices above the club — that’s how deep in we were.

He remembers Daft Punk playing there. Chemical Brothers. Bugged Out Fridays. Armand Van Helden.

David Vincent: Proper sweaty basement vibes. I loved it. But then the Hacienda shut… and all the trouble from there moved over to Sankeys Soap. Shut it down for two years.

 

SANKEYS SOAP REBORN (2000–2002)

Enter Sacha Lord.

David Vincent: Me and Sacha were mortal enemies. But I said to him: Look, you’re a good promoter. I’ve got Tribal. John from Golden can do Saturdays. You can do student nights. There’s a business here. Andy Spiro even warned me not to get involved —

said gangsters would ruin my life

Which made me want to do it more.

Then he casually drops

David Vincent: Oh — forgot to mention — I ran Ministry of Sound Ibiza in ’97 at Pacha. First weekly shows they ever did. And we built the first billboards in Ibiza.

Then:

David Vincent: They tried changing the deal — pay me instead of 50/50. I don’t work for anyone. So I said no, left, did arena shows with Cream, sold them out… bought Tribal Gathering.

 

THE SANKEYS YEARS: REINVENTION, MADNESS AND A NEW EMPIRE (2002–2010)

Mike Mannix: Did you get any hassle reopening?

David Vincent: A few phone calls. But the big one —

someone tried to petrol bomb the club on opening night

The generator out back.

My engineer mad Graham runs out shirtless yelling, “Dave! They tried to petrol bomb us!” Whole of Ancoats lose power. But we’re on a different generator. So we opened anyway.

Then comes the heavy truth:

David Vincent: We were the first club to say no to the local security firms. The police backed us. Other clubs followed. In a sense… We cleaned up Manchester. You could say we used the Soap to clean up our image.

Mike Mannix: Yea Sean Byrne who used to work for you there then told me relentlessly of its carnage and legacy.

David Vincent: It was! From 2002 onwards it was a barrage of nights, madness, and reinvention. My idea was to reopen Sankeys and rebuild it the way I’d done Tribal Sessions. I eventually did warehouse parties with Tribal Gathering. In 2003 when we won the best event of the year. After that I unfortunately fell out with my partner Sacha. And in 2006, we agreed to split. And then I reopened. We totally redesigned the whole club and it became more futuristic and more international. Rather than like this sweaty basement type of club. It became a different type of thing when

we won best club in 2010

 

 

Mike Mannix: What were the stand out moments?

David Vincent:

Jeff Mills playing The Bells

Danny Tenaglia’s 12-hour marathon, glove and torch moment

David Guetta before stadium fame, whole crowd sat down on the floor in admiration (an ibiza thing)

Carl Cox Christmas with DV dressed as Santa

Star Wars New Year’s Eve with the actual Star Wars R2-D2 in the DJ box, Han Solo frozen into the wall

 

This is where Sankeys became mythology.

 

THE FALL: IBIZA, DEBT AND MENTAL HEALTH

David Vincent: Then I started franchising it, Ibiza, New York, Tokyo. In Ibiza we had a really bad start because we had an investor that pulled out at the last minute. I had to pull money from Beehive Mill. Borrow from mates. I leveraged too far. Lost the building. But then Sankeys Ibiza found its feet and it started going well for about four years.

And then I got ill. Mental health problems for nine years.

Everything collapsed when I collapsed

While he was absent for 9 years, the brand ran into the ground.

David Vincent: Stupid concepts… Sankeys in Essex, Sankeys in Wales… crap clubs, bad artwork… They didn’t have a clue.

But now

David Vincent: People need to know I’m back at the helm. With the right people.

 

THE RETURN: THE NEW SANKEYS

Mike Mannix: What’s the plan — one-off? New club, whats the craic?

David Vincent: It’s an existing club we’re taking over and rebranding. LEDs, sound system, new bar. It’s official. Proper. 500 capacity. Every Saturday. We’ve sold out eight shows already. Average age is 37. Old ravers wanting another run! But it’ll get younger. Kids hear Sankeys from their parents now.

 

The buzz is mad. Nearly two million clicks on the relaunch

People forget — when I’m involved, it works. When I wasn’t, it didn’t. I’m not digging anyone out… but I’m back. Properly. By the way, you’re the first interview I’ve done. Get it out there!

Because Sankeys was never a building.
Never a brand.
Never a logo.
It was a feeling, that feeling is about to return!