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Pleasure Savior & the Art of the Party

BY LAURYN HINTON | September 16, 2025


Pleasure Savior. [Photograph by Bryce Ell]
Pleasure Savior. [Photograph by Bryce Ell]

The first time I met Ashley was outside of Club Switch, a New Orleans LGBT Club, as I was setting up for the night’s party. She was alone, just enjoying the vibe. She was also curious, and we fell into a conversation about missed connections, New Orleans underground, and her desire to show more of herself.


Little did I know, I had actually met Ashley before. It was probably three years ago, I was getting ready for a Friday night, looking through Instagram for the next move, and I saw a page filled with memes and parties.


Ashley MaGee aka Pleasure Savior online (although she prefers to stick to Ashley), is a NYC-born, New Orleans-based party producer supporting local DJs and performers with consistent, innovative parties and a concise weekly weekend calendar. In past lives, Ashley was a radio host and DJ Black Betty; now her taste for music and parties has evolved into the role of a nightlife facilitator, always looking for the next best function in the city. 


The line between Ashley and Pleasure Savior is thin, almost non-existent, as she pours in all her emotions, swag, polish, care, and love for the ones she calls her people: the freaks, the oddballs, “the dirty fucked up cousins minus the dirt.”


[Photo courtesy of Pleasure Savior]
[Photo courtesy of Pleasure Savior]

TBD: What do you love most about parties? Is it the music, the connection, the dancing?


PS: I don’t think it’s a real party if you don't have all three. But I love every aspect. Growing up, my parents were social types. We always had parties at my house, always people in and out. So it’s the connection, meeting people that you would never meet anywhere else, experiencing the same joy on the dance floor, reacting to the same music, that inspires me most. 


TBD: Is there something that feels like the most vital element?


PS: Parties can be an ecosystem of every different type of person and if the vibe is right, it's like going to church. A good party is a full circle moment. I believe you have to give up a little bit of yourself to really enjoy it, and that's something I'm always willing to do. It's my favorite drug.


TBD: How have your experiences as a DJ and radio host shaped the way you think about parties and what it means to produce them?


PS: A good party requires the same energy as DJing, where you’re not just doing everything for yourself. DJing is sharing, understanding your audience, and really giving a fuck about their experience, which kind of removes the inherent selfishness that can come with the job. You're there to teach, on top of giving people a good time. 


TBD: That's interesting because I’ve noticed some DJs don't exactly throw parties, they just perform. And some DJs do the whole thing. Do you think, as a DJ, you have to know how to throw a party?

 

PS: Honestly, this is where I start saying things. There are a lot of DJs throwing parties right now; there are some that are very good at it, and they know who they are; there’s a polish, real care and professionalism to how they organize them. Not all parties are like this.


[Photo courtesy of Pleasure Savior]
[Photo courtesy of Pleasure Savior]

As a DJ, people jump into the party producing sphere and think it's easy. It’s really not that easy. It's a multi-tiered process that some people aren't willing to dedicate themselves to, and you can feel it. I don't think you have to be a professional to throw parties, but you do have to give a shit about the details.


People get hip to that stuff, though. If you screw them over enough times, then it's like, all right, you're just here to make money or get clout, so I’m not coming back.


TBD: What do you think the long-term effect of that is on nightlife?


PS: Audience burnout is real. Especially if the market’s flooded with mid experiences, people are broke. And no one wants to spend money going to parties if they’re constantly being let down; they’re just not gonna come.


Some people will isolate, and others will stop experimenting. That's how you end up with the same audiences, and there isn't the same kind of energy we go to parties for in the first place. It's like, I was here last time and they're playing the same songs. That's the homogenization of nightlife. Not just here. Everywhere. Everyone’s saying the same thing in scenes big and small.


TBD: There are definitely some events that lowkey I know who's going to be there before I even get there.


PS: To me, it runs counter to what a good party is. You don't want to walk in knowing exactly what you're going to get. I want to be surprised. I want to meet new people. I don't want to feel like I'm just going to a clubhouse.


That's what I love about throwing parties. It’s important that I’m constantly challenging myself to book new DJs and new venues; anything to help keep the energy fresh. 


[Photo courtesy of Pleasure Savior]
[Photo courtesy of Pleasure Savior]

TBD: Place is important to us at TBD. How do you see Pleasure Savior contributing to the cultural landscape of New Orleans? 


PS: I know what I want to contribute, but I don’t know yet what that’s gonna look like. I’d love to help produce a musical festival. I’d love to put more emphasis on experiences that aren’t entirely nightclub focused.


I’d like to see a less segregated nightlife, where the room is filled with everybody from everywhere. Being in New York, that's how parties are. You have a fucking banker over there and a skater over there; it's cool to have a bunch of different energies in a room, because there's a lot that we can learn from each other. Especially now, where some of our differences have become a “threat” to certain people. I hope by doing what I’m doing, in spite of how the world around us is collectively losing its mind; by encouraging collaboration, encouraging mindful thinking with my memes, encouraging people to come together. I think that it can have a larger impact, not just on nightlife, but like humankind.


You know, it's not just about clout. I don't put my face on Pleasure Savior. I don't see the point. It's not really about me, it's about all of us. That's what I hope to share.


TBD: What’s your take on preserving or gatekeeping in nightlife and underground culture? Where’s the line, and who gets to draw it?


PS: I don't really give a shit about other people's calendars. I didn't invent the event calendar. But I do think differentiation is important. Making sure you create something unique to you and not just copy-paste of something else.


When it comes to gatekeeping, I mean, can you stop the tide once it starts?


I'm from New York, so I’m not as testy about it anymore, but like, if you move to a new place, you need to provide an act of service. Show yourself as wanting to be a part of the community you live in.


We're talking about New Orleans here, which is very sensitive. And I totally respect that.


It took some time to get people to trust me, because I'm not from here. But you know, I don't mind that. I believe I need to work for it and I am not afraid to. If I wasn't meant to be here, I wouldn't be.


[Photo courtesy of Pleasure Savior]
[Photo courtesy of Pleasure Savior]

TBD: We’re not just partying in a vacuum; the world is in stressful conditions. What role do you think music and nightlife can play in shifting culture or creating a sense of resistance and community?


PS: I think music will continue to serve the purpose that it always has. Not just a reflection of the times, but also a momentary distraction. Parties can fulfill many needs. They can be revelatory. You can learn something completely new about yourself or someone else.


As long as it remains a place of experience and connection. Like I'm experiencing something new with someone I've never met. To me that is what we need now more than ever.


We all deserve to fucking party, man. 


Through her work, Ashley is exploring what nightlife can be. By challenging homogenization and creating spaces that welcome difference, she pushes the boundaries of what it means to connect, experiment and belong in New Orleans.


When it’s not just about the crazy nightlife, parties become sites of release, revelation, and resistance. The real question is how we cultivate that joy intentionally, to serve our communities.




Catch more like this in our upcoming fourth print issue — available now for pre-order.

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