This New Orleans dance party has been grooving for 25 years | Music

By about 11 p.m. on the second Saturday of each month, you can expect to find the dance floor at Saturn Bar packed to the brim, throngs of music lovers crammed shoulder to shoulder, shimmying and shaking under the dim glow of the dive’s multi-colored chandelier.

The back patio is likely inhabited by cliques huddled around a shared cigarette, a bowl of late-night ramen or both. Lines snake out of the bathrooms, up to the bar and from St. Claude Avenue to the building’s entrance. Sweaty dancers crowd onto nearly every inch of the balcony, clinging to the railing as they look out on the chaos below.

It’ll be like this through much of the night, sometimes until dawn.

But the music pumping from Saturn’s speakers? You won’t find it on Billboard’s Hot 100 or trending on Spotify. It’s not even from this century.

It’s the music that first played on radios and in dance halls 60 years ago — Aretha Franklin, The Zombies, The Beatles, The Isley Brothers — and it’s the music that has drawn new generations of New Orleanians to Mod Dance Party for the last 25 years.

One of the longest running dance parties in the city, Mod night started at Circle Bar in 2000 with a pair of rookie DJs, some old ‘60s records and a couple of loyal fans. Since then, it’s grown into a staple of New Orleans nightlife, outliving its original home and surviving Hurricane Katrina, COVID-19 and the advent of iPods, cellphones and streaming services.

So what makes Mod night so special? Maybe it’s the event’s fearless leaders, 64-year-old Matt Uhlman and 46-year-old Kristen Aul, the DJs who have remained devoted to the event since inception. Maybe it’s their allegiance to real vinyl 45s and LPs, a novelty in today’s internet-centered world, or Saturn Bar’s unpretentious atmosphere.

But Uhlman and Aul, sitting outside the Bywater bar on a recent Saturday after a soundcheck, distilled the magic of Mod Dance Party down to one simple element: the music.

“This era of music, most of this music was made to dance to,” Uhlman said.

“I mean,” Aul said, nodding, “how can you not?”

DJ Zeppelin presents Lipstick and Cigarettes

Fans of Mod night as it is today have the late Kelly Keller to thank. A music obsessive and co-owner of the now shuttered Circle Bar until her death in 2004, Keller wanted to host a recurring DJ night but needed someone to lead the charge.

Keller, known to have an eye for talent, tapped Uhlman. He agreed, though his DJ experience was limited to radio, having aired on Tulane University’s student-run station WTUL. But, Uhlman pointed out, radio requires a “totally different kind of DJ.”

“Because you’re not worried about whether people are dancing or not,” he said.

He had to buy all new equipment for the gig and earned his stripes on the job, learning some hard lessons along the way.

Uhlman said he initially wanted to call the party “something stupid,” like “Lipstick and Cigarettes.” He also said he wanted to call himself “something stupid,” like “DJ Zeppelin.” Aul still laughs hysterically when they talk about this. Uhlman rolls his eyes.

Keller, a merciful ruler, vetoed those options, instead dubbing the event Mod Dance Party and Uhlman DJ Matty.

It wasn’t an overnight sensation, but Mod night quickly generated a few fanatics, including Aul herself, who Uhlman said always danced and was always best dressed. Clad now in one of her many vintage, polyester mini-dresses and a pair of white go-go boots appropriate of the era, she still is.

Aul revealed to Uhlman that her passion for music was cultivated in part by her dad, who had been in a ‘60s garage band called Substantial Evidence. Aul didn’t think Uhlman would have heard of them, but he had a copy of the band’s song “Death Angel” on a 45.

It felt kismet, so Uhlman asked Aul to help host the event. They still end each Mod night with “Death Angel” to this day.

Ruled by Jupiter, at home at Saturn

When Aul joined the team, she brought her dad’s record collection and college radio experience of her own.

She too had to learn the intricacies of a live music setting, and she reiterated that “Mod Dance Party was not a hit in the beginning,” with many a Saturday night going without a soul on the dance floor.

But their love for the music of the era endured, and others eventually started to catch on.

“You can hear a song like ‘Louie Louie,’ you can hear it 1,000 times, but until you see people dance to it, it gives it a whole new meaning,” Uhlman said. “It’s like a form of anthropology or something.”

Aul and Uhlman play some of the same songs each Mod night, but they don’t plan out a setlist, allowing them the freedom to lean more funk, surf or soul depending on the crowd’s response.

“So that anticipation of what to play next to keep the dance floor crowded is what I think that me and Matt are really good at,” Aul said.

It’s that instinct that has kept locals like 37-year-old Philip Yiannopoulos coming out to Mod Dance Party for the last 20 years. To him, Mod night is one of those New Orleans constants you can always count on — akin to Saints games, Mardi Gras or potholes — no matter how else the city might change.

After Katrina hit in August 2005, Mod night was back up and running that October, leaky Circle Bar roof be damned. When Aul briefly moved to Germany, Uhlman kept the dance party going. Uhlman moved to Philadelphia, and Aul kept it up. During COVID-19 lockdowns, the pair hosted Mod parties over Zoom.

“It’s been amazing to see some of the same faces for over two decades now,” Yiannopoulos said.

Yiannopoulos and his wife, Heather Lane, bought Saturn Bar in 2021 partly in an effort to save the institutions like Mod Dance Party that have found a home at the offbeat corner bar.

Saturn and their team of veteran bartenders have been critical to Mod’s survival, especially following the closure of Circle Bar, Aul said. She proudly pointed out that she, Uhlman, Yiannopoulos and Lane are all Sagittarius, who are — if you believe in the tenants of astrology — adventurous knowledge seekers ruled by Jupiter. Ironic, then, that they should all find a place at Saturn.

While Mod night tends to build longtime fans, there are newcomers, too.

Yiannopoulos often helps work the door on busy Mod Saturdays, and he said it’s a shock to the system when some 21-year-old born in 2004 hands him an ID.

Really, though, he cherishes the opportunity to watch newbies navigate their first Mod night. During the week leading up to Super Bowl LIX, a group of young (but totally of age!) college kids were among the hundreds who rushed to Saturn Bar for country music star Zach Bryan’s surprise performance. Aul and Uhlman were up next, and Yiannopoulos encouraged the group to stick around.

About half of them shut down at the first echo of the oldies, looking for the nearest exit. The other half, though, rushed to the dance floor, giddy as they joined the fray. It tends to be a love it or hate it kind of night, Yiannopoulos said, and that’s part of the fun.

“When you’re there on the dance floor and it’s packed, you have to leave if you don’t want to be there,” he said. “You can’t half ass it.”

In Mod we trust

Aul and Uhlman only have two rules: dance, and don’t spill your drink on the valuables, though the duo prefers a rowdy crowd to a sleepy one.

Aul herself, leading by example, has fallen from a fireplace mantel and finished the night with a black eye. A pregnant Mod attendee was once rushed to the hospital when her water broke on the dance floor, and more than a few now-married couples met for the first time at Mod night, kickstarting their relationships with good, old-fashioned dirty dancing. Aul and Uhlman have been featured in several weddings for this reason.

They also don’t gatekeep their setlists like some DJs do, instead sharing their music with anyone who asks, including New Orleans ex-pats as far as Hong Kong who have started Mod offshoots in their new homes. They don’t consider themselves stuffy record collectors or music educators, though attendees are often so young (but totally of age!) that they hear some songs for the first and only time at Mod night.

Aul’s copy of “Don’t You Just Know It” by Huey “Piano” Smith skips briefly at one point, and she and Uhlman said the crowd sings along to the skip. Most of them have never heard it outside Saturn Bar.

Seeing new generations dance and sing to the music Aul and Uhlman love is what has sustained the duo over the decades, even while both hold day jobs. And they don’t foresee themselves or Mod Dance Party slowing down anytime soon.

“When I die,” Aul said with a laugh, Uhlman nodding furiously. “I mean, as long as people show up, we’ll be here.”