Winter breaks. Means it’s in winter. Which means it’s cold. Which is hilarious when the queue stretches three quarters of the way up whatever street runs alongside the Metro. No not George Street. I know that much.

At the very least we had cigarettes and the last desperate few still trying to acquire tickets to entertain us. The event has sold out in spite of the addition of the Roma Room (with Ajax, Kuya and Nick Toth) due to ‘unexpected’ ticket sales. That said, I must confess that whatever was happening in the Roma room proved largely irrelevant once I found my spot on the balcony in the theatre; nice and cosy around the visuals booth (the cool, winter themed treats being provided by MoRpH) and from there found it almost impossible to leave. The brief snippets I heard were exactly the funky, party breaks that were expected but it was the demonstration being put on in the main room that stole all my attention.

Jon Wall brought us a dark, chunky dose of new break beat. Finishing off with a bootleg mix of Born Slippy, he received exactly the response predicted of such an anthem at a party like this. It was an exhibition of his competent track selection, his ability to pull out a completely unexpected but entirely appropriate track for the moment. A skill again shown at the after party at Innc with the inclusion of The Cure into his set.

As he vacated the stage for Kid Kenobi, those of us who were finding it hard to leave our spots were given a taste of the party breaks that were being thrown around elsewhere. Hip-hoppy, old school breaks like ‘Hear The Drummer Get Wicked’ moved through to the darker, harder, faster style beats Jon Wall and Q45 had made the crowd accustomed to. Looking around, a few nearby seemed unimpressed by the block party first part of Kid Kenobi’s set but it all seemed forgotten by the end.

Enough of that analytical rubbish though. To be honest, it’s proving pretty bloody difficult to put the vibe this night possessed into words. A packed Metro lost their collective minds to a series of musical highpoints. The acapella of ‘We Want Your Soul’ over the local favourite ‘Satisfaction’ from the Tooheys Extra Dry advertisement was an incredible moment. Not only did it sound exceptional but it was clear that Soul Of Man had put some thought into their work. They played to the crowd, interacted with them and went absolutely berserk behind the decks. It’s a wonder nothing expensive wasn’t broken amidst the flailing limbs and bouncing British break beaters. Etched with smiles as big as any of ours they totally justified the hype associated with being touring international DJ’s.

It would probably be, at some point during this review, the cool thing to mention something about the Fuzzy crowd. Something snide, witty and allegedly intelligent about trucker chic and an apparent mass of people who like breaks (or more recently, drum and bass) but don’t know why. But, really, being a self-confirming elitist has lost whatever fun it ever had.

Perched where I was, overlooking the seething mass with the Freeland Nirvana remix playing over a system that big. As the strobes went off and the air was punched by thousands it was absolutely impossible to care about whether people were there because it was a Fuzzy party, much less what brand jeans they were wearing. Yes it was a Fuzzy gig, a fact made impossible to forget with the countless tie in’s to other parties and events they are putting on. But, all things considered, all this really meant was that an exceptional party was put on that night. They are damn good at what they do; it was superbly orchestrated from top to bottom and, all things considered, anyone who didn’t enjoy themselves should probably be put down before their pointless bitterness infects someone else.

Oh, and I love the Metro. More please.