New Year’s leave

I’ve been staring at a computer screen for two hours before writing this, sadly looking for the strength to not give up and go back to sleep. OK, I’ve been foraging for rare records on eBay, too.
Least it keeps me out of bed.
That kind of sums up how I feel about last year’s party scene. There was a lot of searching, an increasingly rare number of great records and not so much to lose sleep over.
Have I been sleeping on last year’s real parties? I’m sure some would argue the point. I tried to get out as much as possible, get a taste of the flavor of the month, but sometimes Atlanta’s appetite can be so fickle it hurts my stomach. I have to stay up many nights wondering about the Next Big Thing, so it’s hard to make a big thing out of any given night. Sometimes you get a little of both, though, like on New Year’s Eve.
New Year’s Eve is a funny thing if you think about it. Is it a celebration of the year past or the year ahead? It’s a passing, but is it the passing of a torch or is it more like a wake? Guess it depends on the person, place and how much time you have to think about it between flutes of complementary champagne. And if you can think past how much that complementary champagne cost you.
I think New Year’s Eve serves to celebrate the trends of the past year and forecast those of the future. Or it can just be gloriously meaningless. Hell, it’s only once a year, so I went looking for all three.
My first stop, a friend’s loft party, gave me déjá vu for autumn 1999. A series of seasonal loft parties exposed me to a performance by Aerial, who would ring in 2000’s trend, an increasing number of performing electronic groups (Drums & Effects, Sans Noir, the return of Underwater) frequenting the Midtown/East Atlanta axis.
Possible trend of 2001: a return to techno, signaled by my astute friend’s booking of up-and-coming local DJ the Technician at her party, followed later that night — over at Liquid Groove’s function at the Masquerade — by a heavily touted tech-house set by the Shamen’s Mr. C. There’s a real nostalgic air going ‘round. I see more old-school events in the near future; check to see if deep and progressive house begin yielding to hard house when you get out of the house in the next few months.
And if you do get out of the house, you may find yourself getting into a warehouse party, another trend growing in popularity. Gradually, lofts in the West End and Old Fourth Ward have become notorious for having some of the best art parties and after-hours in town on almost any given weekend. And New Year’s Eve was no slouch, from the Danger Crew’s percussive 600 Minutes to Sunrise party at the U-Haul lofts on Murphy Avenue to Earthtone Soundsystem’s blazing get-together off Samson Street and Highland Ave.
Now, you’re probably thinking: That’s all well and good, but enough academia. What about the frivolous shit? Well, back at the Westin (most definitely not to be confused with the West End), I celebrated the beginning of the real new millennium with a little trip down memory lane courtesy of 95.5 The Beat’s National Millennium Party and Tone Loc.
Yes, Mr. “Wild Thing” himself. For those who didn’t waste expensive tickets to have too much funky cold medina before midnight and miss the whole damn thing (and there were quite a few, don’t think I didn’t notice you in the bathrooms and barely holding up the walls), Tone made wild things of the lot. Hell, I even got a lap dance out of the deal, sort of. Don’t know how to break this to you, though, Tone, but no matter how many times you ask, “Where my real hip-hoppers at?” they were most assuredly not there.
So, another New Year’s Eve put to bed. And no good records on eBay. I’m sleepy. G’night.