There are parties, and then there are nights that feel like time travel with a bassline. Chapter 10 of Disco Diaries leans firmly into the latter. It is less about nostalgia than about the chaos of sequins, the reckless urge to move and the sheer stamina of a crowd determined not to sit still. Two DJs steer the evening with a kind of sly authority, trading tracks like secrets, folding technical precision into a sound that feels both unruly and exacting. The floor becomes a collective confession booth, where everybody is compelled to speak in rhythm. By the time the night dissolves into sweat and laughter, it is difficult to tell whether you were dancing with strangers or with yourself.
August 29. B500-600 at the door. APT 101, 9pm onwards