In an odd new tradition, thousands of Australians are choosing to celebrate Australia Day with their favourite American DJ cum producer Ryan Raddon, AKA Kaskade. With a new album hitting stores, the promise of a three-hour set from the house luminary was a tantalising prospect. Plenty a tattooed arm and Aussie-flag adorned t-shirt started queuing early at the Greenwood, and with tickets sold out well in advance, this was looking to be another Australia Day-eve classic.

Illya was providing the soundtrack to the early afternoon and again showed why he is one of the finest DJs this city has to offer. With unrelenting energy behind the decks, he tweaked, looped and mixed up a pumping afternoon set that, while heavy on the trickery, was never overdone. He stayed bang-on the house tip, throwing down funky rolling basslines and a dash of diva vocals. The sound was reverberating nicely around the courtyard with an eager few already busting hip shaking moves that would make my grandmother wince in pain.

The back courtyard was lightly soaked in the subtle aroma of sausage fat, a suitably summer smell to match the weather. It proved the place to be early on to soak up the over-abundant sun and conserve some energy for the hours of music and dancing ahead. Back in the courtyard, the musical vibe shifted after Shamus took control of the music, with a distinctly more anthemic sound pumping from the speakers. Well worn favourites like Open Your Heart mingled with the subtler funk of Leger’s remix of Hello Piano.

By now the Greenwood was heaving and I realised that sometimes, it must really suck to be a girl. Never before I have I enjoyed the simple pleasure of expelling the contents of my bladder against a metal wall – each trip past the line of impatient women that snaked its way for metres down stairs and around corners made me thankful for my particular distribution of chromosomes. At peak times, there must have been at least a 30 minute wait and as expected, the bolder ladies were prepared to brave the filth and jeers of the Male toilets. For the less bold, the marathon snaking line for the Ladies was a source of both amusement (for the boys) and frustration (for the girls). Apparently some girls were going into cubicles two at a time – I do not understanding the mechanics of this at all.

While queuing was certainly one of the predominant themes of the day there was one place where it was in fact, a pleasure. In the Chapel, Mofunk was given three hours to do his thing and from 5pm, all of a sudden grabbing a drink did not seem like such an onerous task. Fresh from 12 months in Ibiza, Mo showed why he so quickly landed a residency over there; it seemed he was keen to bust out whatever the hell he wanted throwing together an ear pleasing mash-up of anything you could shake your booty to. With his space age white headphones, and boundless enthusiasm, the only disappointment was that more people were not paying attention. Welcome back Mo.

By the time Goodwill had finished up (and been cheered following the announcement of his engagement), it felt as if we had stumbled into a classics party by mistake. Over the course of the day we had heard it all – four Daft Punk tracks, Easy, Pjanoo, Pump Up the Jam, Insomnia – some of my ageing campadres exclaimed “haven’t they written any new house music recently? This sounds like my MOS annual from 04”. Still, despite one awkward moment when the music stopped altogether, the DJing was solid all around and Goodwill did noticeably pull things back before Kaskade was due to begin.

And begin he did. From the outset, it was clear that Kaskade he was planning on dropping melodic bombs from a great height. He started with an epic triple-header: his mammoth collaboration with Deadmau5, Move for Me, a new take on the Sanchez classic Another Chance and then perhaps his biggest track to date, Angel On My Shoulder. Over the course of three hours, I would be lying if I said there was no cheese – in fact, there was plenty – Drop the Pressure, Lola’s Theme – but much like Mama’s finest bolognese, Kaskade used the cheese to good effect, bringing out some proper driving house beats to the rammed courtyard audience. There was even a dash of prog with the epic Sultan & Ned Shepard mix of Pressure from Dirty Vegas. An ill-advised foray towards the front of the crowd revealed that there was simply no space to move… anywhere. The last half hour was the kind of melodic house dripping with female vocals that has placed Kaskade so firmly on the global electronic map. The pace was less severe, the mood less intense and the music quite luscious (the beautiful sounds of 4AM melting into I Remember). It was for perhaps this sound that many people had come and while it was quite late in the proceedings, it was a welcome way to end the day.

Overall Kaskade served up what most of the crowd wanted; a mix of classic Kaskade anthems and upfront house that kept the arms of the heaving throng aloft. However, numbers did noticeably thin towards the end of his set indicating that perhaps some people did not get what they were hoping for. Despite yet another queue (this time for train tickets) and an arduous journey home, there was no denying that Sounds dished out what most had come for – a day of upfront, often cheesy, but downright fun party music.