Despite the harsh winter air blowing a hazardous cold, Friday 19th May was a chance to heat those chilled bones with cool music and warm vibes from the men who were about to blow. There were no funk fakers in sight, only a quality handful of Melbourne’s local disc jockeys and the Detroit stallion Kenny Larkin – back to blow his own way for a second time courtesy of Soma Corp.

Eager to catch the entirety of the local line up we ditched the fashionably late tag line for an early start. Waddling through the horrendously hoon occupied Safeway car park we arrived around at the Playpen just after 10:30pm to catch the funk glorified Askew in action. Despite the dance floor being a little scarce, us early birds were lucky enough to catch the worm, as the ever-classy Askew treated the set as if there were a million strong crowd in front of him. Starting off with some more mellow, spaced out and intricately melodic tunes, Askew worked his way through the genres until he hit daddy funk and the tunes turned into the likes of Amp Fiddler’s ‘Too High’. As the bodies in the venue started to multiply Askew shifted gear and morphed from funk to the deeper sounds of techno. It was a perfect exit for Askew and a perfect entrance for Ben Cromack.

For the first time in my writing life I feel lost for words. That is, I no longer have any apt adjectives to describe Ben Cromack’s sets. Good, great, tight, melodic, acidy, minimal, rhythmic, frenetic – none of them seem to cut it anymore. I’ve worn them all out. The point is Cromack never ever fails the crowd and tonight was no exception. Not letting a few needle hiccups disturb the pace, Ben took off from the heated pinnacle of Askew’s set, instantly ceasing the moment and throwing the crowd into one of his quintessentially ambidextrous sets. There were a few classic tracks with some new impressionable tunes including the sensational Oliver Ho.

Cutting no corners on quality – one of our favourite local live sons was standing on the sidelines preparing for his debut solo live performance. The formerly three-man live show of Phunk de Sonique had metamorphosed into a one-man show with Christian Vance steering the out of space vehicle. Armed not with synthesizers and the like, but instead a brand new laptop that was the catalyst for an entirely new, but typically deep and burning Vance set. Perfect proportions of sounds, which were catapulted from every direction, accumulated to create a soundscape that was sung and hung with a moody and deep reflection. The beauty of a Vance set is that if you’re not listening carefully enough the music can float entirely over your head, but if you listen you can feel every inch of your body touched with spacious beats and emotions – so much so that it’s impossible not to move. It was impossible not to move on Friday night.

At around 3am, Kenny Larkin entered the stage protecting himself from the glare of the electric Melbourne crowd that had now filled the dance floor and surrounding areas. Last time Kenny was in town he came equipped with a box full of acetate. This time the vinyl was abandoned in favour of a laptop with Traktor that Larkin tweaked heavily throughout the night – a special Melbourne treat. My last date with Larkin at the helm was at Tokyo’s luscious AIR nightclub two years ago and the memories still lingered fondly. What was even more special this time around was that he was playing on my home turf with a well sized devoted crew that were perhaps one of the best, friendliest and up-for-it crowds I had seen at a party in a long while. Besides a few sloppy mixes (which were entirely forgiven – mind you), Kenny was on the money and delivered what I can only describe as a party fuelled solid set of techno that fused the essence of Detroit, old funk flavours, tribal strings of techno and everything in between. Although his facial expression didn’t give much away – it was a given that Larkin was feeling the Melbourne love through his bones. Close to four hours later and now with two close to numb legs, Kenny gracefully exited, making way for Dallas Raft.

I don’t remember the last time I saw Dallas play. It had been far too long between drinks, but nothing had changed – he was still an amazing DJ. His execution is pure class and his music a blissful hybridisation of minimal, tough and melodic techno all in the one breath. There was no relenting at 6:30am – instead Dallas rode with the still thriving crowd and delivered a perfect breakfast, which, unfortunately for us, was cut short due to the severity of our tiredness.

Unfortunately the magnetic qualities of the main room kept me away from venturing sideways to hear Not Happy Jan, Simon Coyle, Tahl, Elektra and Andee Frost. What can I say? Blow Your Own Way was one of the best nights I had had out in ages and boy had it been a long time since I had danced that much from start to end. The music, the crowd, the line up, and the vibe were enough to make me blow…