You wanna know what makes a fat night? Bloody jungle and free watermelon, that’s what. And as good a set as High Contrast played at Suzie Q’s, the variety and depth of the acts on offer meant the Sydney date of the High Society tour went down pretty well.

After returning to the club after a brief hiatus in a crappy nearby pub, Melbourne 5-piece K-Oscillate played to what was now a heaving mass in the main room, the mixed crowd crammed like sardines on the bouncing second floor dance floor. Folk jostled and grooved as the band played away, out of sight for most people, perched as they were though on the miniature stage better suited to a DJ. But they got people moving their shit, which isn’t always easy for a live dnb band, and gave Shapeshifter a run for there money (well, nearly) a week before their arrival.

Before the Welshman’s imminent arrival ALF kept the masses moving, but beats kept making their way through the wafer-thin partition wall at the back and curiosity took the best of me. I forced my way out of the sweatbox and through the lively bar only to find the same thing was going on next door! Sure I went back a few times between the rooms playing similar middle of the road dnb, but finally was suitably impressed when High Contrast and his mass of hair came out. Not because his mixing was for the most part impeccably executed, or because fresh dubplates were introduced, but because I soon found out that right next door it was 1994.

Nothing shakes the mind, the soul, and certainly the body like a ridiculous amount of snare drums forming an obscure melody over a sped up reggae riff, nothing at all, for me at least. And everyman (at least those who chose to avoid the headline act) really did ‘do they thing a little way different’ as limbs flailed and sweat flew. So thanks to the chick representing for the Junglettes, whose possible deficiencies as a DJ were glossed over due to awesome track selection, my evening was already made.

But there was more, with High Contrast’s set going on for what seemed like hours next door. True value for money for those still going strong to the big name international, and there sure were a hell of a lot of them. Back next door the aforementioned watermelon was doing the rounds as the rest of the Ruffneck Souljah crew, straight outta Aotearoa, kicked off their aggressive ragga influenced set with the big MC shouting for crowd participation in a hip hop style. But there was still a nice jungley vibe going on, and despite the ‘this is all original’ claim shortly before a few verses from NWA’s Fuck the Police, it was all good.

Anyway, my legs were starting to go after the hours of sustained raving, and I wobbled out into the lessening chaos of a Saturday night on Oxford Street and dragged myself home.