Lost Baggage feat. Kevin Griffiths @ The Cross, Sydney (16/02/08)

On a post Good Vibrations night, when Oxford Street, Kings Cross and any kebab shop within a 5km radius of Centennial Park is overrun with rampaging hordes of girls in fleuro and guys that shop at Supré, it’s refreshing to find a night catering to people that like their music a bit more intelligent than Fatman Scoop and aren’t all donning the current Cotton On catalogue. But to be fair, even though tonight’s approach along Darlinghurst Road entails clubs blaring Bon Jovi and the Choirboys, even though to get to the club you have to take your chances with lilac hatchbacks bearing number plates such as FRE53X, this is pretty much the standard rough the proverbial diamond that Lost Baggage finds itself lodged in. And in Sydney at the moment, Lost Baggage is shining brighter than most.

The ensemble cast that makes this night so healthy is tonight joined by surprise guest Jamie Lloyd. He’s turning heads in the Loosekaboose lounge as punters set up shop on the sofas. The main room is cooking. Emerson & Murat have already warmed up – tonight the Baggage residents (baggage handlers?) have given away their usual set, the one that bridges the headliner’s antics and the mayhem of Spice. Instead, it will be left to the Bump DJs to clean up.

Ken Cloud, he of the old guard, steps up with a party set of groovy tech. Ass wigglers like John Spring Ready to Broadcast are eaten up as the room fills, but not uncomfortably, for Kevin Griffiths. Griffiths’ set betrays the breadth of his experience. Influenced by his time in London and Berlin, as well as the variety heard on his Tsuba label, Griffiths’ sound traverses the gamut of tech – all the way to Detroit – and the crowd devours it with relish. Meanwhile, the Disco Terrace offers a third style for the night, and yet more crews on the roster. The Disco Not Disco and Paradise Lost kids give way to Alex Wolfenden. From Liverpool via Ibiza, this mare of Yousef mate plays upbeat music that is a great accompaniment to a chat and recuperative cigarette on the balcony, taking in the detritus on Darlinghurst Road and the doctors and nurses that have come in costume to the party. It’s not compulsory to come in costume, but it’s another added bit of fun, if not eye candy.

Meanwhile in the side lounge, the damask walls shimmer as Trinity shows why Loosekaboose is kicking ass at the moment. And finally, elder statesman Phil Smart gives the crowd a reason to stay past sunrise. His new outings on Junkbeats are aired and the smiles on the faces of the crowd show why some of them have been following him around since Tweekin’, Love and the general haziness of last millennium.

Of all the regular parties currently vying for Sydney’s attention, Lost Baggage is probably number one. Whether you come in costume or come for the music, you know you’re going to have a night of fun times with friendly people. Just don’t tell the guys at Supré.