I don’t know if there are any equations governing the rules of clubbing, such as 2e²=0[p] for instance, but there should be. There should also be a way to optimise dancefloor space so that no one accidentally elbows another person unless the really, truly have to and a geometric floor design such that all bottles and glasses slide seamlessly down a recycling chute. These abstract possibilities aside, it’s often hard to see how Break Inn could improve. With a ramped up crowd, two rooms of sweet, sweet sounds and that slamming party vibe my general feeling is normally: could do with a little drum and bass too.

On Friday night, you got a lot of it. And with D:TECH MC thrown in to the mix as well! Klute of the UK is the man behind Commercial Suicide, producers of some serious darkness from the podes. In fact I remember the first time I picked up their album in a record shop and decided to give it a listen. Vinyl buyers out there will know the feeling: instead of the intro-drop skip-through I found myself listening to the whole thing, edge in. As you can imagine I was looking forward to this set.

Warming up to the sounds of Wax Motif, surrounded by funky bass and mixed up classics, I was itching to get my Dn’B on and as soon as the cave was open I was in there. On it. Bubbling with excitement. Rolling, moving…
Opening the Cave was Mode & Aggrovate who started things off a bit airy with smooth vocals and strings, the Dn’B equivalent of chill out sounds with those tooting trebles and the ilk, but then the sickness started creeping in. D:Tech wiggled his way to the front and got on the mike. This was good. A good MC can add so much to a night and the music and he is a good MC, knowing when to be quiet, when to go slow, when to go hard and fast, when to scream.

The crowd was getting seriously geed up. So much so that unwary revellers wondering in seemed to take a fright and revel their way straight out of there again!
When Klute took the decks it was to a pumping, jumping crowd, fully geed and ready for something heavy. He delivered. Mad technical beat, seething basslines, musical fury, rap-a-tap lyrics from the MC, dark and driving, my face started hurting from all the mean-face I was doing. Down at the front it was a little too hectic so I got a good spot under a corner speaker and the air-con to good effect. Next thing I knew it was half past two, and my legs were beginning to tire.

I headed over to the Room Formally Known as the Smoking Room for a rest with Dopamine’s mania crashing down on me and a very abstract anime film kicking on the screen. My eyes are feelin’ heavy now. I can feel my body being pulled to the ground. One last hurrah on the dancefloor to leave on a high, a good jump around as some unbelieveable tune kicked in.

All of which = a cracking night.