The multi-act celebration of Aotearoan music known as Dub Conspiracy was first brought to my attention through the unbridled obsession I hold for the greatest live drum and bass act the world has ever seen, Shapeshifter. They headlined last April’s tour, ergo, being the type of rabid fanboy who’d rather sell his own mother into slavery than miss one of their shows, I attended. Ably supported by the likes of Concord Dawn, Fat Freddy’s Drop and Salmonella Dub, the ‘Shifter boys – with P Digsss now on official duty as frontman – put on a truly cracking show. And while the Big Top at Luna Park will never enter the live music annals as a good venue for acts who love low-end bass, I had a grand old time and eagerly sat-back to await the announcement of the tour’s return to our shores.

Fast forward almost 18 months and, with my nose constantly scouring the beat breeze, I catch wind of another impending invasion. (Of course, this isn’t exactly a sign of superhuman olfactory powers because the heady aroma of prime Kiwi sensemilia pretty much announces their arrival days before they land.) And – lo! – did the review opportunity arise, and – yea! – did I put my hand up, and – verily! – was I the first lucky bugger to do it.

My last couple of attempts at venturing out for some bevvies and a boogie had failed miserably for one reason or another, so I was champing at the bit for a chance to get mildly inebriated and, as they say in the Motherland, “have it large” on the dancefloor. A good mate was planning to visit from up north for the weekend, so it seemed that, maybe, this time, it would all go according to plan. Unfortunately, as I am wont to do, I made a slight schoolboy error when planning the journey to the gig; I insisted, like a good little hippy, that we rely on public transport. To get us from Drummoyne to Coogee. On a Saturday night. If I had half a brain, I could… well, I don’t know… do simple maths or something. Maybe.

After a two hour contender for “Most Tedious Bus Trip Ever”, we finally make it to Coogee, locate the venue, and settle in for a beer. Ten minutes later, with the sound of some rockabilly band on a jukebox destroying our sanity, we realised that we were – in fact – in the wrong section of the place and that it actually stretched waaaaay back and was separated into distinct sections; pub, beer garden, and live-music auditorium. My life often resembles a Seinfeld episode and it seemed that tonight’s episode would rather amusingly be entitled, The Idiots.

All of these shenanigans led to the horrible discovery that we’d missed Sydney duo, Budspells, the only purveyors of drum and bass on the line-up. After a brief chat with some grinning and slightly spinning likely lads, though, I can confidently say that they put on a damn fine show and warmed up the evening nicely with a selection of tunes from their EP and forthcoming album. Their track, Love and Unity (provided on the free CD handed to everyone as they entered), is a great slice of dub leaning DnB, so I can only weep at a chance lost and promise to check them out as soon as possible.

This was my first excursion to the Coogee Bay Hotel and I have to say that, as a punter, I really appreciated the size and layout of the place. After making your way past security, you’re faced with a large and long room that is laid out in a simple, yet effective, manner: stage at the far end, bar on the left, toilets on the right. There’s even an upstairs balconied section (unvisited by myself) that overlooks the main dancefloor and stage. It reminded me of a larger – and therefore far less annoying – Gaelic Club, a venue which I love and hate in equal measure. The place was always packed (indeed, the night was totally sold out according to the poster near the entrance) but it never felt crowded; it’s one of those venues that has an indefinable je ne sais quoi about it. And while I experienced moments of rudeness from other patrons at the bar, and saw a few people get thrown out by security, all in all the crowd were very well mannered, well behaved, and clearly just there for the love of the music.

Next up were Kora, a 5-piece band that play an aurally interesting and immensely energetic blend of dub and reggae, with moments of drum and bass freneticism and hip-hop funking thrown in for good measure. Four of the members are brothers (surname, Kora) and this has an obvious positive effect on the group’s stage synergy. I always love it when bands are blatantly loving what they do, and it was constantly apparent that these guys were happy to be there and happy that we were there to watch them. The entire band are consummate performers and the two frontmen were either cunningly disguised meerkats, or else they’d been on a taurine drip for a few hours before the show. More than a few times was I reminded of the exuberance of Rage Against The Machine’s firecracker of a lead man, Zach de le Rocha.

But it wasn’t all good. About 2/3rds of the way through their set they embarked on a baffling sojourn into almost prog-rock like posturing. An insanely long build up of sub-bass and beats – with one of the vocalists continually chanting, “Something’s got to give…” – gave way to a drop that felt neutered and a subsequent couple of tunes that let the pace drop below what we’d been getting used to. They picked up the proceedings again by the end, but by then they’d regrettably lost me a bit. All in all, though, I pretty damn impressed and Kora is a name that I’ll definitely keep an eye out for in the future.

After an upbeat and funky intermission provided by the talented hip-hop outfit, Semper Fi and Halfcast, the 7-piece dub, soul and reggae fusion of Cornerstone Roots took to the stage. Straight away they kicked of proceedings with some seriously skanking beats and the dancefloor was soon awash with the kind of cheery atmosphere that only reggae can inspire. Again, the band were obviously loving being there and they are clearly talented but, while I enjoyed some of their set, I also found it at times to be far too generic to really make me sit up and take notice.

Reggae has always been a hit-and-miss genre for me; I’m either blown away or I’m under-whelmed. There’s very rarely a happy medium, and, unfortunately, Cornerstone Roots left me slightly wanting. I’m not sure whether it’s because I’ve been rinsing Damian Marley’s superlative Welcome to Jamrock album lately, but it seemed that the crowd agreed with me because the levels of chatter markedly increased at certain points. They were good, but they lacked what I can only describe as “focus”, as sometimes the songs felt like they were unsure of where they were going. Maybe this kind of Jazz-like improv is something they’re renowned for but it was a bit too sporadically engaging for me to fully appreciate.

And then it was time for the headliners to come out and strut their stuff. Salmonella Dub, undisputed masters of blending reggae, dub and drum and bass into one blazing, blinding, tear-the-dancefloor-to-shreds whole. They’ve been around for a while now (almost 15 years; their 4th LP, Inside the Dubplates, recently went double Platinum in New Zealand) and their longevity has lent them – as it does all bands who stay the course – a stage presence and professionalism that is truly a wonder to behold.

After an inspired introduction with a conch shell call, they took to the stage with an energy that can only be described as elemental; smashing out tune after tune, never letting the funk thermometer drop below critical levels and constantly engaging with the crowd to keep the vibe at a fever pitch. I’d had a bit of dance throughout the night but it was only now that I really felt the urge to move. Anyone who has experienced them live will understand what I mean. The low-end bass rips through your chest and the breakbeat percussion grabs your hips and won’t let go. It’s a special kind of band that keeps you moving even when you’re breathless and your feet are begging for a respite, and Salmonella Dub provide the music to inspire such dancefloor dedication seemingly effortlessly. It was an amazing show, and I literally can’t wait for the opportunity to catch them live again.

As we slumped exhausted and drunk into the backseat of a cab, we both grinned at each other and summed up the evening in eloquent unison: “Top night!”