Kat Says: “I Flew To L.A. To See Justice, And All I Got Was An After-Party In A $70M Mansion”
A look inside Notch’s Dome Party of 2022
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“What the hell am I doing here?”
That’s the thought that kept racing through my mind as I boarded a direct flight from Miami to Los Angeles last Friday after work. This was my seventh flight in three months, and the last thing I wanted to do was sit in a tin tube squirming under the threat of turbulence, every inch of my body screaming for one fucking day of no work and normal sleep.
It all started when I traveled to L.A. in May. Y’know, when I went to the Cruel World and Just Like Heaven festivals? That week between, I went to meet my new pal Swardy in he and his roommate Sarah’s multi-colored wonderland of a puppet hole (read: home).
He’s friends with my good friend Molly, and Molly is the kind of person that has her rave fingers in all types of magic; a kind of multi-talented question mark covered in exclamation mark glitter.
“You better be here on July 9, bitch,” she said. Maybe she didn’t say bitch. I would have said bitch, but we think alike, so let’s go with it.
“Wait, why?” I asked. She couldn’t tell me with her words, but her eyes were all kinds of warning. “Just be here.”
We’d been talking about 2ManyDJs, so I assumed it had something to do with them, and probably Justice, because everyone who knows me knows I’ve made being a Justice fan 20 percent of my personality. A small part of my brain lit up with “DAFT PUNK?” but that’s not going to happen no matter how much money a Swedish dude has to burn.
At the time, I was like “yeah, okay, maybe,” but in my head I was all “yeah fucking right, I am NOT getting on another cross-country flight in a month. That’s the last fucking thing I’m gonna do.”
Cut to Kat in another cross-country flight, a month and some days later, suddenly $400 poorer; dazed expression as she exits the on-plane lavatory.
A week before this fated flight, my friend Jaime called and was like, “okay, you’re one of five people on the planet that know this, but the guy who made Minecraft (better known to the world at Notch) teamed up with the production crew that puts on the Super Bowl Halftime show to throw a secret party with Justice and 2ManyDJs in L.A. I know you’re a big Justice fan, so if you wanna go, I’ll make sure you and your man can get in.”
So thiiiis was what Molly was talking about. Fucking fuck, god damn it. Was I about to buy a fucking plane ticket to L.A.?! I kind of had to. I first met my boyfriend because he was wearing a Justice † t-shirt, and we’d never seen them together before. Plus, it was going to be some insane production. Plus plus it was one of the fabled Notch parties. Plus plus plus it was Molly’s birthday.
Alright fine. I had a $125 flight credit from American Airlines. I might as well use it.
Some six hours later, I landed in the City of Angels ready to have a devil of a time. I should have gone to sleep, but instead I went to see my friend Monsieur Frazier DJ a disco set at a club called Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, then I stayed up until the sun rose being a fucking idiot menace with my friends.
In some ways, this is fitting. The first time I ever interviewed Justice was at Ultra Music Festival in 2017, a mere hour before they were set to effectively debut what would become known as the Woman Worldwide tour (I interviewed Xavier about that live album, too). I hadn’t slept in 24-plus hours then either, so I guess sleeping and Justice don’t really go together for me.
(*These are not things to be proud of. These are just facts*)
I slept for about five hours at Molly’s house before I had to get up and drive to my airport hotel in time to watch my partner and I’s musical audio/visual experience make its debut on the Nest Fest livestream.
BIG FAT SIDE NOTE: I have a band! We’re called the Cherry Flavored Antacids, and we made a 30-minute mix of all-original material which YOU can catch a restream of this Saturday, July 16, at 3 pm ET, on twitch.tv/nestfestforukraine.
Philippe and I were told we had to get to the function as early as possible because it was going to be a real mad house to get in. So, we hopped in a Lyft and headed to the LA Coliseum, arriving promptly at 7:30 p.m., as we were instructed.
BUT! Turns out that was waaay too early, and we almost got this poor security dude in trouble for letting us in the check-in area before the gates opened, then we had to stand outside the check-in for a whole houuurrrr because we didn’t have bands for the extra exclusive pre-party (DJed by the wonderful Durante and Amtrac, I found out later!).
I had already flown for six hours to be here. One more hour of waiting wouldn’t hurt.
Around 8:50 p.m., signs of life began to emerge from the Coliseum. An ominous soundtrack of oscillating bass notes began to moan out of the speakers, while a giant LED screen where game scores and advertisements usually blare started to read cultish esoteric messages in rainbow font, including “The body lies. Look within and find the truth of space and time.”
We saw human figures in translucently colored trench coats march slowly and methodically toward the entrance gate where a long line of fellow GA types had been standing in the sun for literal hours. I heard from staff they were gonna cap the event at 900. It was free to get in, but if you were person-waiting no. 901 or more, you weren’t getting in.
I’m pretty sure they never reached the cap. The dome was never uncomfortably full—unless you were in the DJ booth VIP area, where everyone wanted to be for some fucking reason. Anyway, I digress.
Once we were told we were finally allowed in, we were handed some pamphlets with more quasi-religious, sci-fi mumbo jumbo. We walked past the weirdo brigade of rainbow sentinels through an archway and down the stairs toward the Coliseum floor.
The rainbow, cultish nonsense messaging was broadcast from every video surface. The droning, religious sci-fi music continued as smoke filled the air. It was all very surreal and somehow completely expected from the guy who created Minecraft and spends his billions throwing free, over-the-top parties for socialites, industry insiders and non-rich normies because he’s lonely and doesn’t know what the fuck else to do.
I mean, fuck yeah dude, I’m literally here for it. That's my kind of 1 percent.
Once we were thoroughly juiced up for an alien experience, we walked into the rotating doors of the dome two at a time, and immediately found ourselves in an entirely different environment. Instead of dark and spiritual synth tones, we were greeted by standard electronic club fare, courtesy of the Brownies & Lemonade All-Stars.
Further Reading: How Brownies & Lemonade’s Home-Grown Party Series Won Over EDC and the World (Billboard, 2018)
We had officially entered the “world’s largest inflatable dome,” which was very cool to be inside because the A/C was crankin’ to make up for all the bodies it was about to hold. I immediately thought to myself, “shit, the doors are air-tight to keep this thing inflated, and I’m about to share space with 900 people. I’m gonna get COVID.” Wildly, I did not get COVID!
When we looked up, we saw a gigantic Zodiac wheel growing and shrinking in slow procession as digital stars streaked across the “dark sky.” It was pretty fucking cool, like going to a raver version of the Hogwarts cafeteria—and all the bar drinks were free.
If you asked for a glass of champagne, you got Dom Perignon, FOR FREE. That’s about $250 per bottle retail. They were also serving Beyond sliders at little carnival-style food stations outside, FOR FREE. Fucking fuck, it’s nice to be rich.
Considering I had slept five hours in the past 36, Philippe and I found a giant beanbag tucked away in a corner forest of beanbag chairs, and promptly decided we would not stand up again until 2ManyDJs started. This was prime viewing territory to watch the dome ceiling run through its insane rotation of visuals.
After B&L warmed up the crowd with electro grooves and trap-era hits, Starya took the stage and totally wow-ed the audience in a glittering suit, serving a rock-star status set with live guitar and vocals. She shimmered like a hallucinatory wonder backdropped by the warped psychedelic oil slicks and industrial machinery visuals that continued to blow my mind.
Arty B2B Team EZY was next, and somewhere between their drops of Empire of the Sun’s “Walking On a Dream” and Swedish House Mafia’s “Leave The World Behind,” I was forcibly ejected from my comfortable place on the beanbag by the spirit of get-the-fuck-up-and-dance. Seriously, that was one funky set, a real highlight of the night.
Zedd and Alvin Risk turned out to be the secret guests. That set was fine. It was okay. It was a lot of tech house (Zedd of course played his Squid Game edit of Acraze’s “Do It To It”), but next came 2ManyDJs, in all their three-piece suit glory.
The Dewaele brothers played Aphex Twin’s “Windowlicker.” They played Tiga’s “Mind Dimension.” They played that first track off their slowed-down Gabber mix called Cherry Moon on Valium from 2011 that I must be one of a handful that remembers. They played Metallica’s “Master of Puppets,” and I’m pretty sure they played that one for the Justice guys who had just shown up in the DJ booth.
All in all, it was a very classic 2ManyDJs set. If those bros ever come to your city—run! Don’t walk!
But now was the moment I had blindly thrown money and flown all-the-way across the country for with five days notice:
because I am a psychopath who yearns to shout “because we are your friends, you’ll never be alone again” in the face of every person I’ve ever loved before I die;
because dancing to horror-crunching electro noise until every muscle in my body screams at me “you are too old to give yourself whiplash” is the most holistic form of therapy I can imagine;
because I can feel my entire soul levitate above this mortal coil whenever I hear the hauntingly angelic opening chords of “Safe and Sound;”
because you’re just never ever anywhere else going to hear two men mix The Pointer Sister’s “I’m So Excited” into Gessafelstein’s “Hellifornia” in your burnt-out, overstressed, capitalist slave life.
TL;DR, Justice played a DJ set.
It was magical. It was beautiful. I got to do all those things listed above and more. In true Justice fashion, the duo forwent any of the fancy-pants projection map visuals and stuck to its traditional white flashing light production (save for when Justice drops “Stress,” and then all the lights go red).
That level of conceptual dedication and aesthetic purity in the face of an $8 million production budget comes as no surprise, and is exactly why they are indeed the coolest band, forever and ever amen.
They finished their set with a back-to-back emotional face slap of “Be My Baby” by the Ronettes into “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. I’m pretty sure I left my life on the metal rail. I would do it again in a heartbeat (and like, I will. Duh).
After that, it was a lot of hugging and smiling and laughing with friends while we filed slowly out of the dome and back to real life. Just kidding! My friends Molly and Brittany sent me the address to the after party at Notch’s house, which immediately became the most expensive fucking place I ever was and ever will be.
Tucked into the illustrious and historic Beverly Hills, it was sold to Notch in 2014 for $70 million, earning the title of most expensive house ever sold in that star-riddled zip code. You can actually build the house, infinity pool and all, in Minecraft, so most 10 year olds alive today know it well.
Have you ever been to a house party where well-dressed staffers sweep and mop as partygoers spill champagne in real time? There was a pool table and a built-in DJ booth; a fully-stocked bar with three bartenders ready to make you any freaking thing you wanted. Oliver Tree was there in a full Blockbuster video sweatsuit. Earl Sweatshirt was there, chillin’. I watched a group of high-fashion dudes play dice next to the floor-to-ceiling windows while my friends wandered around in bathrobes, changing the settings on the hot tub like they owned the place.
I got to see the neon, Tron-esque recording studio and scoop peanut M&Ms from the famous candy wall. On the way out, I started a convo with this cool dude in a lab coat who told me his name was Doc and he worked at Death Row Records (Google confirmed for me later that, yes, I was talking to The motherfucking D.O.C.).
At one point, while I was dancing to an incredible bloghouse set from Thee Mike B, my friend’s friend turned to me and said “You know what the most LA thing about this is? That everyone here acts like this is normal.” It really hit home. That shit was fucking insane, but you had to just vibe, you had to just live it. You had to eat the pizza and shake hands, and listen while your friend Brett said “I’m dead” in your ear every 20 minutes (Brett is very much alive, btw).
I watched the sunrise again before hitting the road back to my airport hotel. It was a-fucking-time, and even though it wasn’t cheap and my connecting flight from Dallas got cancelled on Sunday evening, so I had to buy a hotel room and eat weird hotel-restaurant tacos for dinner before finally arriving home in Florida at 6 p.m. Monday, it’s a-fucking-time I will look back on and smile and chuckle to myself about for the rest of my fucking life.
God bless Justice. God bless Notch. God bless all my friends.
THE END.
Absolutely Necessary
(This is the part where I share songs that are so good, they’re absolutely necessary to listen to. That’s it. That’s the bar.)
Okay! Another really long essay. I feel like the classic show review is dead, but I went ahead and gave you a personal play-by-play of my night anyway. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Let me know, and also, give a listen to my Spotify playlists. They’ve been updated for your listening pleasure. Details below.
I made two Spotify playlists for this section that you can follow: one weekly playlist updated with just the new stuff every week, and one cumulative playlist that will host every song I pick ever (until Spotify tells me it's full). Check them out! I made them for you—and me, but mostly you.
Thanks for tuning into my newsletter. Listen to the playlists on Spotify. One is updated weekly with all the songs from each edition. The other is cumulative with all the updates ever!