Home Music No one sat at the SAT’s Party du Jour de L’an

No one sat at the SAT’s Party du Jour de L’an

by Mia Pearson January 2, 2015 0 comment
No one sat at the SAT’s Party du Jour de L’an

The Societé des Arts Technologiques’ New Year’s Eve party erupted with digital confetti and “unst unst”

SAT welcomed the new year by opening the whole building to party goers, who shuffled up and down the stairs in glittering gowns and tight tuxedos to taste the two party rooms. The top floor featured a dance floor under a dome-shaped screen, and downstairs, the smaller Espace SAT room with a candle-lit, speakeasy vibe where the music was loud enough for no one to actually speak easily. On the subject of music, party goers might conclude that there is not much to say about the music at all.

NYE party at the SAT. Photo by Sébastien Roy

Two words that best describe the night’s music would be “unst unst”. DJ’s, Harvard Bass, Bordello, Thomas Von Party, Iron Galaxy took turns DJ-ing the Stratosphere and taking selfies on the little stage. The DJ’s certainly delivered: the musical effect was reminiscent of Paris night clubs—the bar also served France’s popular 1664 beer. The highly popular electronic music, where musical layers are packed on, built-up, and inevitably dropped, pleased the crowd of people with eyes glazed over. Many pointed up to the ‘90s screensaver visuals of the Stratosphere, which shifted digital shapes, loosely matching the DJ’s music. When midnight hit, a countdown appeared on the dome screen, and digital confetti erupted. Couples kissed—some for too long—others texted their loved ones, and a few single souls suddenly found the dome visuals extra interesting as the minute of kissing passed. The dome itself had a dizzying effect if stared at too long. A cure for this was the igloo-looking hut set-up outside and frequented by shivering smokers.

Some hobbled down the stairs in heels to the Espace SAT, Prison Garde, Seb DIamond, Hatchmatik, Kyle Kalma, Jason Voltaire (VJ) manned the stage—the music and bass slightly louder than upstairs. Here, dancers were more loose and more apt to mingle. A large screen displayed a stagnant “2015” for some time (because a reminder of the new year was essential). One audible lyric could be deciphered from on the the DJ’s sets. It went “my body doesn’t lie,” or something to that effect. True to form, nobody’s body seemed to fib as elbows were flailed jauntily to the beat.

In all, the night was extremely “unst unst” which was appropriate because, now, in 2015, people seem to really dig “unst unst” kind of music.

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