A talent of the highest quality in a new venue – the stakes were high as Theo Parrish was finally to be seen in Australia. After years of waiting for one of deep house music’s darlings, his sound signature was to be exhibited at Plan B on Saturday night.

On arriving at Plan B, we were dealt with in a most hectic fashion before entering the venue. Up the stairs into a visually ice-cold space bathed in a frosted blue light. The bar appeared as the focal point of the room, with the PA folded in, seemingly as an after-thought. A large amount of seating existed, but with that amount of seating there was excessive light emanating from the prominence of the blue pin-spots, illuminating everything, a dark corner not to be found. That coupled with the contradiction in imagery of the green foliage and large wicker cane-ware was something that irked me.

Theo Parrish was listed to play from midnight to 5am, but on arriving we found out that he had requested to play from 2am until 7am – we were in for a long and exciting night. With the changes made, Simon Caldwell was now running late and Mako credibly started the vibe in the right way with a fine selection of deep house.

Caldwell continued the theme dropping some finer moments from Detroit house history with Paperclip People and Moodymann featured, moving into some of Theo’s own material. An interesting question could be pondered – does one consider it a faux pas or a moment of praise to play tracks by the featured artist within ones set prior to their performance?

After requesting the outage of a great amount of the room illumination, Parrish stepped up to the fore. He dropped out of the 4/4 mode that had filled the air, and fused a blend of soul, jazz and funk for the first couple of hours. It was quite evident that Prince was a great influence on Parrish, dropping at least three of his numbers in the first ninety minutes.

Whilst the music was eclectic, and at most times electric, the room felt as if the power was turned off. The vibe from Parrish as he bounced around behind the turntables failed to traverse beyond the dancefloor perimeter. He worked the EQs hard and equally tested out the flooring beneath him – all the while, thoroughly absorbed in every beat, bar and measure. The productions of artists such as Gangstarr through to the self-conducted Rotator Assembly were heard, as he leapt between genres, dispensing with the common notion of the DJ and taking the ethos of DJs from eras past, where selection was the key element to the mix.

With management reducing the door price over $20 on the night to the standard entry price, the room filled with the more typical patrons that the bar was used to seeing. This infuriated anyone who had paid full price to be entertained, and doesn’t bode well for the loyalty of patrons in the future. Would you bother pre-purchasing a ticket for an event if you knew there was a possibility of entering on the night for less than half price?

As the clock hit 4am, Parrish started to hit his straps. The tones meandered into low-slung house territory; the crowd really starting to feel the music as the fervour on the floor heightening. It seemed that the first two hours were purely a gateway into what was to come. Five hours to play with ensured that he wasn’t going to give you wanted right from the start, and you’d be wanting more by the time his set was complete.

Nevertheless, this wasn’t the case, and at approximately 5:10am, the house lights were on. Extreme confusion abounded – what the hell was going on? The show was over, with venue management unhappy with bar takings – they decided it was time to close. All this, just as Parrish had shifted up to fourth gear. As we descended on to the street, the calls of ‘ripped off’ echoed through the stairwell. Indeed, we had been, but not by Parrish. At least I can say that I’ve seen Theo Parrish weave his textured tapestry for three hours – as it’s three hours more than many will ever get. The manner in which he played some of the tracks he did was ever so refreshing. Tempos that descended below 100 beats per minute, off-kilter rhythms and vocal interludes all smeared on to a dirty canvas to create something that isn’t witnessed every day in Sydney.

Perhaps, not everyone seemed to understand it, that is to be expected, especially when you have the two extremities of the dance community meeting up. The ‘headz’ versus the ‘wanna-be fashionistas’ of the world will always make an interesting blend, and perhaps more were vocal about the music played on the night. At some moments it was so far beyond what is heard in the clubs day in, day out. People may complain, yet, not everyone can understand a DJ playing minimal three-deck techno nor comprehend a boot scootin’ country and western gig, let alone Theo Parrish throwing down his quirky selection. If everybody enjoyed the same music, what a staid and sad state of affairs we’d be in.

In conclusion, questions need to be raised if Plan B is to continue exhibiting world class musical acts. Firstly, the venue appears more angled towards a bar rather than a nightclub. If more events are to be held here (which they are), more thought needs to be put into the sound system. Its sound was passable if you were within 5 metres of the speakers, however if you were outside of this zone, you would be lucky to discern the music. It doesn’t have to be loud within the areas of seating, just clearly audible.

Secondly, it’s seemingly apparent that there was no contractual agreement in place that said that the show must go on until it’s done. When an artist is advertised as playing for a certain amount of time, isn’t the onus on the club to deliver? It’s not as if the police had shut the show down, and with the high door price, one would be excused of thinking that there was some contingency for the fact that the bar was drying up.

At the end of the day, I’d definitely see Theo Parrish again, but I necessarily wouldn’t venture back to Plan B.