Feed the world, that’s my motto. Ask anyone. As such it should come as no surprise that I turned up at the Chinese Laundry with a tray of homemade bran muffins and my sister in tow, with the intention of treating here to two Sydney staples: Beer and Breaks. Alas, my stationary supplies were confiscated at the door except for my pen but that was enough and we settled down in the now non-smoking smoking room to watch the Happy Tree DVD extras and chit chat with the other sneaky puffers.

Such a friendly place, as after all it was but moments before people started revealing their innermost secrets. John, I feel for you and hope your broken heart is healing. Anyhow, by now Steve Lind was kicking things off with some electro beats and broken mashes and a rapidly engorging dance floor was appreciating it all by b-b-bopping, as they do.

Then it happened. In a quiet corner of the dance floor…
In the red corner, representing Australia: Paulie.
In the blue corner, representing New Zealand: Ryan
...in a dance off the likes of which have not been seen since 1985 behind the bike sheds. Paulie had the energy, Ryan had the moves but all the props went to mystery stranger #1 who burst out into the middle of all this, broke out some crotch pumping Michael Jackson moves before disappeared with nothing but a ‘shimon’.

The cave then opened up with Andreas Hacker bringing a more housey theme. More dancing as the floor fills effortlessly but it’s just a short burst of thirty minutes before we Slyde back over to the laundry (see what I did there?) to listen to Slyde. By now it’s packed – elbows to the fore if you wanna move at all and a bizarre moment where a woman candidly asked my sister, “You’ve been dancing in that spot for a while now, do you mind moving so I can?”

On it went, pumping breaks and a hunt for dancing space. Slyde got a real party vibe happening, I suspect bolstered by some all-day drinking after the early marks, and it came thick and fast with a range of styles: vocally, poppy, crunchy, bassy and a long list of other adjectives. A varied set then. But still the dance space was a problem. Every time we found a new spot it seemed to fill up with men strutting their stuff in an over the top fashion, legs a-wiggling, knees bending every which way but loose.

At which point I had an epiphany. Men strutting. Over-the-top dancing following us around. Sister in tow. Short skirt on sister. Ah! I bit my tongue and danced on regardless because the music was too good to do anything else, and things are certainly looking good for this seasonal season as Dopamine and Basskleph rounded off their set lists.