Wednesday Night: New Year's Eve Overthrow at Heathrow Lounge | New Times Broward-Palm Beach


Wednesday Night: New Year's Eve Overthrow at Heathrow Lounge

Ian Witlen

New Year's Eve Overthrow with DJ Tamara Sky
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Heathrow Lounge, South Beach

Better than: Ringing in the New Year wearing the played out all-white uniform of post-Diddy South Beach parties.

Way too many times South Beach club parties end up being more hype than substance. The flyers are sexy. The announcements are written to conjure images of high-end decadence and stylized self-indulgence. But then, really, you just get a house full of primped and preened pretty people getting drunk and dancing with abandon. Which is why, even at their most hyped and least substantial, South Beach club parties rarely disappoint.

Overthrow at Heathrow was Heathrow Lounge's bitch-slap response to the white parties and stuffy poolside parties too common around these parts. The smoky, off-keel
Victorian decor juxtaposed with the modish art deco surroundings seem like the perfect setting for that.

Unfortunately, it was also a bitch-slap to ball drops everywhere as the countdown to the New Year came and went with very little fanfare. We got a 10 second countdown and bubbly was passed out shortly after. I expected host Alexis Mincolla to be mic'd up and bidding adieu to 2008 and welcoming '09 a la Dick Clark. If I had an emoticon that conveyed a sense of "Dude, WTF?" I'd insert it right here.

The flyer for Overthrow featured a roughed up yet lusty DJ Tamara Sky (an award-winning bikini babe known as much for gracing the pages of Playboy as for her grace on the turntables). Needless to say the flyer had me hoping to see more than her, um, ones and twos.

But while Tamara Sky was scheduled as the centerpiece of the spectacle and DJ Obi sexed up the crowd before the drop of '09, it was DJ Contra who made the musical panties drop.

The dude is plain sick. "Doo Doo Brown" and Daft Punk in one deep breath? Yup. Salt and Pepa and Bob Sinclair without losing a millisecond of oontz oontz goodness? You know it. The dude is plain sick, coughing up bass-heavy shit so catchy that even as I type this sentence into my Blackberry I can't help bobbing my head as if you say, "Yeah, I can't dance, but I agree with you, DJ Contra."

Contra's set also benefited from the effects of two hours of open bar, whereas DJ Obi's gig was too early to catch looser sensibilities (by which I mean the drunken tomfoolery that results from free-boozing patrons). Unfortunately for me, I missed out entirely on said tomfoolery because I was being tapped at $12 drinks.

Critic's Notebook

Personal Bias: I wish I'd gotten there after midnight.

Random Detail: The Heathrow staff, from the bartenders to the bouncers, is the most courteous I've come across in any SoBe club.

By the Way: Tamara Sky was Playboy's Miss August 2007.

Click here to view the full slideshow of the event.

-- Bryan Falla