Farewell DJ Buck
My musical journey alongside a rave DJ legend
Buck Tinkerman, born Kuyumptiwa Kopavi Grok, left this world over the weekend. Much too early and without much warning. He was one of my oldest friends, a brilliant and complex man, incredible DJ, funny as hell, and the source of a big chunk of my identity around music, art, fashion, culture and life.
My first encounter with Buck didn’t go so well. A freshman orientation tradition at our high school, Marin Academy, had new students spend the weekend camping in small groups with one of their teachers. Neither Buck nor I had experience camping, and we were both completely unprepared — no tent or camping equipment. There were 5 girls and two boys (me an Buck), and two tents. Long story short, Buck ended up in the tent with the girls and I slept outside freezing my ass off.
It took a couple months in school before I connected with Buck. Our mutual friend Will Taylor invited me into Buck’s orbit. My first memory of a connection — of really appreciating Buck — was at the Chinese restaurant next to the school. Sitting around a large round table with a Lazy Susan, Buck held court. He was an endless source of grand tales, the funniest jokes, the inside track on all the cool music and trends. In short, he was the coolest kid any of us had ever met. This was in part because he lived in San Francisco and we all lived in Marin. He also had a ridiculously cool dad who seemed more like an older brother.
Over the summer, between our freshman and sophomore years, is when I got to really know Buck and his dad Randy. His dad’s apartment sat right on top of the Broadway tunnel overlooking downtown SF. His dad had a swinger/bachelor pad on the lower floor — the whole layout felt straight out of a John Hughes film. Randy would tell us about his clubbing adventures and the magic of the SF underground club scene. Randy built the first utility-scale wind farm in the world at Altamont Pass to the east of SF.
Neither Buck nor I returned to Marin Academy our sophomore year, but we continued to be close — with Will Taylor being part of our crew. We bonded over Goth/New Wave/New Romantic music (namely The Cure, Siouxsie, New Order, Cocteau Twins, Dead Can Dance, etc.), skateboarding (Buck was never great at skating but loved the culture) and graffiti. Besides skateboarding, Buck was the source of all that was cool and interesting.

Graffiti culture, and his affiliation with SF graffiti crews, were a huge part of Buck’s identity from the day we met. I didn’t really understand this part of Buck until I started tagging with him and running with a couple of his crews. I quickly realized these were serious and tough crews — borderline gangs. Fights between rival crews were common, and Buck, while not really a fighter, played a prominent role in his crews. This was new territory for me and quickly found myself out of my element.
Buck’s tag was CSE (Can’t Stop E-magination) — since Buck was always a little heavy, people would say the E was for Eating. He shared with me that he chose the tag for its letter forms, how they flowed, and how quickly he could write them with style, which made a lot of sense to me. He started working on murals (pieces) with spray paint, and we’d drive all over SF, Marin and the East Bay to find the best walls — sometimes running into rival crews, occasionally getting beaten up for being on their turf.
One evening, we were hanging out with some Marin graffiti kids outside a McDonalds in Corte Madera. It was dark and everyone was just hanging out. One kid, who’s name I can’t remember, pulled out a pocket knife and was swinging it around when Buck held up is arm to block his swing. Buck’s pinky finger, and part of his ring finger were severed. We frantically looked for the missing finger then raced him to the hospital. Until this moment, Buck always considered himself a musician — primarily drums, but also guitar. Loosing his ability to play guitar was his immediate thought and a source of dread.
It was in 1986 when Buck told me that he wanted to learn how to DJ. He had one turntable and needed a second one. My dad had one we could use. On the way to my house we stopped at Radio Shack on 4th Street in San Rafael to pick up a mixer — it was the Realistic 1101 Mixing Console — not your premiere-grade DJ mixer. When we got to my house, we took his turntable and my dad’s, hooked them all up, and Buck threw on a couple records. I think one was New Order. Needless to say, two belt-drive turntables without slip mats make DJing next-to-impossible.
Buck and I were on a similar path for the next couple years — just trying to get through high school as quickly as possible. In a moment of feeling somewhat directionless, we both took an offer to move to Lake Tahoe and work as lift operators at a little resort called Donner Ski Ranch. Buck made it a couple months into the season then decided to head back to SF. I stuck with the snow for a couple seasons while Buck started honing his skills as a DJ.
I followed some friends, including Will Taylor, to Portland after the Tahoe snow season ended so we could ride at Mt. Hood. This was the summer of 1989. Portland was so fun we ended up staying until early 1990. I was in touch with Buck during this time and he shared stories of an emerging music scene in SF. Buck had introduced me to Acid House in 88/89, so I knew the music he was playing. But he urged me to come back for a big party he was playing.
It was sometime in the spring of 1990 when I returned to SF on a Greyhound bus. I was trying to make it back for his party, but missed the earlier bus and arrived at 5am. Buck said it would go all night, so I walked over to the club — at 188 Townsend St. When I arrived people were spilling out into the street. The club was completely packed. I said I was on Buck’s list and they let me right in. Inside I was greeted by a sea of smiling faces — including Buck’s. It was pure ecstasy — quite literally.
After the party I went to his apartment on Polk St. that he shared with his childhood friend Toph. He let me sleep on the couch for a few weeks while I figured things out. While staying with him I started mixing his records and caught the DJ bug. I spent the next year working the rave circuit (ToonTown, Wicked, and other crews popping up everywhere) as a promoter, roadie, cleanup crew — whatever job I could find.
Buck knew I was tinkering with Photoshop and asked if I’d design a flyer for their Sunday party called “Church” at Club DV8 (on the top floor). I scanned a box of Mac & Cheese (one of my food staples at the time) and changed the word “Cheese” to “Church.” Buck loved it and it became my first design and opened the door to flyer design, and my lifelong career as a designer.
Hanging out with Buck, I quickly met a whole cast of characters riding the rave train. To my delight, I found many of our old Marin friends also found an interest in this emerging scene. Solar, Galen, Jon Howard, Josh Ezelle (DJ Josh), Brennan Walsh, Laron, Daum Bentley (Freaky Chakra), Miguel Fierro (Single Cell Orchestra) — all part of our Marin crew.
One of my favorite collaborations with Buck came a few years later — around 1997, when he asked me to create the identity and album artwork for his new record label Leaf Recordings.

I’ve only seen Buck once in the past 20 years. We would occasionally speak by phone. I made a couple threats to come visit him in LA, and he didn’t make much effort to let me know when he was in SF. Our lives moved in different directions. But I’ll always have deep gratitude and love for Buck. So much of who I am was shaped in those formative years by a trailblazing kid from San Francisco with a trailblazing dad.
He was a central part of the energy that caught fire in 1990 and spread around the world. I think burning so bright took a toll. But he will be remembered by countless people he touched with his music and beautiful spirit. Rest in power Kuyumptiwa Kopavi Grok — you will be deeply missed.










Thank you for sharing! Leaf Recordings is one of the best house labels of the time. I would rarely see them in a record shop and whenever I did, it was always an immediate “buy”! Still have them all today in pristine condition. I am saddened to hear about the loss of one of the greats and sorry for the loss of your friend.
Sorry for your (and it sounds like everyone's) loss of Buck. Thanks for the historical reminiscing (and I've got to see a photo of New Romantic Ammon!), and the origin story of so many of your talents. You are a legend in my heart brother, much love.