I brought my grandma to DJ Mag at the Sagamore’s Defected pool party at Miami Music Week, which was a dance party for the ages.
DJ Mag at the Sagamore made the triumphant return to Miami Music Week from Wednesday, March 26, to Sunday, March 30. Each day featured talent curated by esteemed tastemakers and record labels: DJ Mag Presents, Defected, Knee Deep In Sound, Danny Tenaglia, and Glitterbox. The pool party series dished out world-class grooves to beat-hungry house heads all week long, with sets from The Martinez Brothers, Max Dean, TSHA, Dennis Ferrer, Armand Van Helden, DJ Holographic, HoneyLuv, and more.
Miami Music Week was in full swing, and we awoke on Thursday to sunny skies and a sweeping view of the Atlantic Ocean from Miami Beach. The plan was to go to brunch with my grandmother and then rage at the Defected pool party at the Sagamore Hotel. We weren’t planning on my grandma joining us at the pool party, but it was so devastatingly sunny, and we were full and happy from the brunch beignets, and the traffic north was bad.
“Hey, Grandma, why don’t you come with us to the pool party at the Sagamore? It’ll be a lot of fun, just house music vibes and dancing,” I said.
It wasn’t a bluff, but I wasn’t sure if she would want to go. A child of the ’60s, Grandma Enid knew about rock ‘n roll, but wasn’t yet initiated into the world of electronic dance music.
“That sounds like fun! Why not, I’m in!” said Grandma Enid.
I thought this was perhaps the most iconic way to be introduced to house music: at one of the world’s finest dance parties.
My friends, husband, and I were stoked, and the day got a little bit brighter. It was almost sold out, so I quickly obtained a ticket and texted her the QR code. We returned to the hotel for a quick pre-game, dropped Grandma’s car off, and went to the pool party!
The warm, humid South Florida air was just right as we pulled up to the red velvet ropes lining the entrance to the Sagamore’s lobby. We hopped into a short line outside, and I grinned at my grandma and friends, beaming behind my blue-shaded sunnies. I was happy to be back. There’s something magical about being in Miami with the sole goal of getting down. Plus, going to Miami Music Week and not hitting at least one DJ Mag at The Sagamore pool party would be criminal.
We headed inside and meandered through the echoey, sleek lobby. The space doubles as an art gallery, and it was easy to get lost in all the colors and shapes through the crisp, hollow, marbled hall. It was all timeless Miami decadence in there. Along one wall hung a sign, “Another Day In Paradise.” Yes, precisely.
Floral shirts, swirling patterns, pops of Art Deco colors, and, of course, luscious palm trees dotted the space. The soft glow from the low Caribbean sun washed over us. The sonic waves of bass whooshed toward us as the door opened to the party. It really felt like our own secret paradise. We got to the door, and Grandma and all of us got our wristbands.
It felt like a beautiful, full-circle moment. I brought Grandma Enid to her first rave at the place where I fell in love with house music.
I’ve come a long way from sneaking into the club in high school, slinking around drinking Straw-Ber-Ritas, and searching for… something. Back then, dancing to Top 40 Hits in Providence, Rhode Island, and doing jello shots was rebellion at its finest. Ten years later, I’m still dancing, not in rebellion, but rather in celebration of life. An escape turned into an embrace. I hugged my grandma and told her how happy I was to dance with her. You are really never too old to rave, just like Thor said at Skyline Los Angeles earlier this year.
I pointed out to Grandma Enid that there were dancers of all ages at the party. She clapped back proudly, “But not as old as me!” I smiled because it was true—I’d bet she was the oldest one there. A random guest even asked for a picture with her. Grandma obliged. “Am I going to be a meme?” she said.
Dennis Ferrer and TSHA burned the house down, as expected. They jammed into irresistible grooves and effortlessly bounced sonic ideas off each other. Armand Van Helden, the iconic half of Duck Sauce, drove us deeper into party mode with an electric set that seamlessly fused classics with hot club cuts, like “Party All The Time.”
I was gloating and jumping up and down because I showed my not-yet-raver friend the original Eddie Murphy track earlier in the week on YouTube and told them, “This will be played at least once at the pool parties.” It wasn’t a tough call, but being in on the earworms that travel through the club scene was fun.
On Friday, during Hot Since 82‘s Knee Deep In Sound label takeover, I spoke to one guest, a Miami native, while we were in line for the bathroom. We briefly complained about the never-ending bathroom line and how they could’ve used a couple more port-a-potty stalls. No one was that mad, though, and the line wiggled along as people shuffled and danced to the infectious beat, as the lasers whirled around and the fresh ocean winds made everything wild and carefree.
He shared that he has to be super selective about the events he attends during music week because there’s way too much partying. But every year, he returns to the Sagamore for its top-notch vibes and line-up curation.
Thursday night ended with my feet in the pool, soaking in the collective house-head reverie as Eats Everything went back to back with Sam Divine. My friend Kyle egged me on to get on one of the pool floats, so I pulled out a big red balloon animal and launched it into the abyss. I thought to myself, in the words of Kurt Vonnegut’s Uncle Alex, “If this isn’t nice, what is?” The music cruised on, and I didn’t want the night to end.
