‘Sasquatch!’ Porter exclaims when asked on what animal he would like to be. ‘S-A-S-Q-U…you can google it up on the net,’ he helpfully replies, even volunteering to spell it out for me twice when I got it wrong – no thanks to ear-splitting blasts from the nearby speakers.

It’s almost 1.15am and Steve Porter is scheduled to play in 45 minutes. At Altitude, the bar is more populated than the dance floor, which is sporting a miserable approximation of…eight people. Still, despite the lacklustre turnout, Porter seems amiable, positive and genuinely appreciative of where he is at today.

Capitalizing on the night’s uncrowdedness, I managed a speedy Q&A session with this DJ, who has what he describes as an ‘upbeat and energetic’ set planned for the night. ‘I try to represent the four groups: tech, house and so on,’ he says with no sign of arrogance at all. It’s hard to dislike this guy, along with his t-shirt that says ‘Beastie Boys’ in bright orange across it.

A big fan of UK-trance DJ, Lee Burridge, Porter grins when recalling his upcoming opening for Paul Van Dyk who contacted his manager through e-mail. ‘I was so shocked,’ he says, describing the account as something so unexpected. Any DJs you would like to open for? I ask. ‘DJ Dan,’ he tells me with a tinge of respectfulness – the very same DJ who coincidentally, was spinning at Revolver on Chapel Street that very evening.

With 15 minutes left to his set, we grab a seat near the DJ console and wait for Porter to begin. No sign of the dance floor filling up fast; the crowd was least to say, pitiful. ‘Is it me, or are there a lot of guys?’ my friend asks. I shrug although agreeing with her, silently finding it strange how we were severely outnumbered that night.

At 2am, Porter finally steps up and kicks off his set with a light tempo. Easy-going as funk house tunes may be, his selections didn’t exactly help the already idle atmosphere of the chilled night. Everyone was either lounging around on sofas away from the dance floor or busy chatting at the bar. You had to be on a substantial amount of alcohol before the vibe could work itself out for you.

I blame two factors: the crowd and the bass. Simply put, the bass level wasn’t cranked up high enough. It’s good – if you’re sitting at home, half-pissed off and typing this review as I am right now. It’s bad if you’re at a two-hour set with smooth-sailing beats that don’t cut for you the extra ‘oomph’ needed to pry your rear-end off that chair.

That could explain why everyone was glued to their seats. Other than a mid forties (or fifties) lady who was mostly seen dancing by herself and a handful of others – admittedly, I am guilty of straying at times as well – there was a general sense of restlessness throughout the crowd. People came and left as quickly as they entered. As for the majority who stayed, they stuck steadfastly to their chairs for most of the night.

Apart from a few tracks played from his Porterhouse album, which really helped elevate the mood, there were a tad too many lulls in between. It was like starting a car with a rusty engine that kept breaking down on you every time you managed to get it going.

That aside, everything would have been less disappointing if the crowd weren’t that lazy, contained more females (which made up most of the dance floor anyway,) and had a bit more of a partying spirit.