Frankie Wilde was born into a broken home in gritty Brixton, London. After troubled teen years spent on the dole, he stumbled headfirst into the utopian dream of London's nightlife scene, where, with the right set of records and one gig a week, the lowliest yobbo could be lifted to the heights of rock star status.
Frankie grabbed stardom by the horns and refused to let go. "Cut me and I bleed vinyl," he would scream to the throngs as he tore them new ears with sets ranging from hip hop to electro to funky beats that seemed to emanate from another world. The music never stopped. When rave exploded so did Frankie. He put all his energy into acid house and went from the clubs of East London to packed festivals in Miami, Rio, Tokyo and, of course, the Mecca of drugs and dance, Ibiza, Spain.
After hooking up with Svengali manager Max Haggar, Frankie brought Ibiza's mind-blowing dance culture to the rest of the world with his original music. Imitators flocked to the scene and the Motor City Records label pounced on all of them. When Frankie's debut WILDE FUNDAMENTALS shot up the charts in the mid-90s, it solidified an era. In 2000, when the skeptics said it wouldn't last, Frankie disappeared into the studio to record OTAY. This groove-ridden masterpiece turned into the Pet Sounds of house music. As millions screamed, "Everything is OTAY," Frankie sat on his throne as one of the king users in a drug filled scene. He married model/actress Sonya Slowinski, became Spinner magazine's "Artist of the Year" and was awarded Spain's "National Culture Award."
Then, at the very peak of his fame, Frankie went completely deaf. A degenerative disorder coupled with years of heavy drug use and the pounding beat of the clubs literally crumbled his eardrums. His ensuing breakdown was a spiral of misery rivaling any "Behind the Music" sobstory. Frankie holed up in his Spanish villa, slowly unraveling his mind. Think Howard Huges, with the added torture of extreme coke psychosis.
When Frankie emerged from the cocoon of madness, he pulled himself together and devised a novel method of re-identifying with the beat in everyday life. His triumphant comeback to the top of the Ibiza scene, this time as a deaf DJ, is the stuff of legends and built towards one massive gig at the mega-club Pacha.
Then, without so much as a scratch, he disappeared from the scene compeltely.
Today, Frankie Wilde's whereabouts are unknown. Rumors abound: some say he continues to DJ under assumed names, some say he is living quietly in the countryside. Many believe that he is dead. Wherever he is, his legacy is not forgotten.