There are few things more delicious than your first night at a new venue, in a city you know like the back of your hand. It gets even more lipsmacking when you’re there for the man widely credited for identifying a musical trend that’s shaped modern dance music so much: electroclash.

A native of New York City, DJ Larry Tee is known for many things, but his most notorious is coining the above phrase long before the likes of Fisherspooner, Felix da Housecat or Peaches came along.

And so it was, with the paint barely dry on the walls, we descended the stairs at one of Sydney’s hottest new little club venues. No, literally. It was barely 11pm and already the place was steaming. After braving the rising damp outside, opposite the old DCMs, we found there was just as little relief inside so it was straight to the bar. The place itself is composed of two rooms – a front bar with a couple of art installations, intimate DJ booth (think Mars Lounge), and a sweeping long bar that leads to the bathrooms and the main room, which is almost tucked away if you’ve not been there before.

This was much more like it. A wide polished concrete floor beckoned, while to the right stood a DJ booth on a stage where Sveta was doing a cracker of a job working everyone up. Passing another long bar to our left, we stepped up to the back balcony and surveyed the scene. Before us were two massive video projectors, offset by a string of hot pink and purple neon lights along the wall and topped off with a much better sound system than that in first room.

By now it was getting close to 1am, so this reviewer ducked upstairs for a quick fag, only to find the footpath had been taped off as a crime scene following yet another bashing on the Strip. The sight of blue-gloved forensic officers bagging street trash did nothing for my musical mood, so on that note I hurriedly ducked back inside to see Tee – tall, lanky, and dressed head to toe in black – take to the stage.

Peering above this black, thick rimmed glasses, he toned down Sveta’s more tribal, electro tones and pushed it back, down a notch, then down some more. Where was he going with this??

Back to 1994 it seems – as the sounds of Hardcore (You Know the Score) (remember this!) blared from the speakers and the bassline kicked in. Treble screeched overhead as the crowd slowly warmed up to the sound, which left me sitting up the back remembering, well, days in my clubbing past now confined to the long, long ago.

As the mercury climbed, Tee slipped in a spot of indie, and the kids went wild. Jumping, fists in the air and stomping, it was a scene quite likely played out next door at the Phoenix downstairs bar, only with a less clothing and a lot less floorspace. He kicked in a little loved-up Detroit before swinging into techno territory, layering a Brazilian beat and some rainforest sounds before thumping his effects pad to create one massive K-hole. Nice touch.

By 2.15am the place was largely clear – still 15 minutes to go and before Ajax had even hit the decks – but rather than end with an electroclash bang, as I thought he might, it ended with a whimper, as a garage-tinged remix of Daft Punk’s Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger signalled our cue to head off.

There really wasn’t a common theme tonight – it was more about letting your hair down, getting your knees up and enjoying a venue this reporter feels has the right ingredients to become a legend in its own time. The police tape web we dodged outside will attest to that.