The last time I went to Tatou nightclub, it was for an underage gig back in the late 90s. More than ten years later, the place hasn’t changed much. It’s now the home of Bubble, Melbourne’s premier trance/hard house destination, and as such, seemed an unlikely choice for a Likes of You party. Numerous emails were sent out in the days leading up to the event, lest we mistake Brown Alley for the venue. Upon arrival, it seemed that most had taken note of where the party was at.

It was just after midnight, and the queue to get in stretched nearly the length of Francis Street. Security appeared decidedly unhappy to be there. Getting in, media pass or otherwise, was made more difficult than necessary thanks to a few prematurely munted folk who seemed set on spoiling the night for everyone. I felt as if I was back at that underage party all over again. Once inside, we were relieved to discover that alcoholic beverages were no longer off the menu. They were, however being sold at contraband prices. VBs were $9 a pop, as were bottles of Smirnoff. It was going to be an expensive night.

At 1.30am, Marc Romboy took to the decks. The club was reasonably crowded by this stage, but we still managed to push our way to the front. A smoke machine threatened me with death via inhalation. And Romboy kicked off a three hour set with the brand of atmospheric minimal upon which his name has been built. The pulsating, mesmerising rhythms of Karambolage and Kassiande set the tone for a slow-burning set that demonstrated why Romboy is hailed as one of the undisputed legends of tech house. Melodic, inspired classics such as the sumptuous Hyperion and Phobos (with Stephan Bodzin), regaled the masses, whilst techier, bumpier tracks such as House Ya and Shake it Again upped the tempo. As a big fan of Romboy’s more electro-tinged tunes, I was hanging to hear personal favourites Body Jack and Impact Disco. If they were played, I didn’t hear them, as I had grudgingly migrated upstairs to catch the start of Sebastian Mullaert’s (one half of Minilogue) set.

Mullaert, I was told, had made the rather diva-like demand of changing rooms at the last minute. Unhappy with the sound in the room he was meant to be playing in, he insisted on moving next door, which was half the size of the original room. Fans were rammed up against the stage, and its proximity to both bar and bathroom meant that the dancefloor was also used as a walkway, and therefore not very dance-friendly. It didn’t stop the throng of punters from squishing themselves as close to the stage as possible, jutting en masse to the ever-changing, light and dark soundscape provided by Mullaert. Apparently, his last hour in particular went off, but I was back downstairs to check out Daniel Steinberg. He span some slightly more jacking house than the variety played by Romboy, but it’s fair to say that most of the crowd had pushed their way up for Mullaert at this point.

The gig, on the whole, felt a bit overdone to me. The crowd was too big, the venue not quite right, the drinks ridiculously overpriced and the security far too overzealous. Tunes were decent without being mind-blowing, I didn’t hear enough of my favourite incarnation of Romboy, and packing the Minilogue crowd into the small room certainly dampened my spirits. Crowd wasn’t bad, misbehavers out the front notwithstanding. Most were young, and pretension-free – I witnessed plenty of “toilet friends” being made throughout the night. Purists would have been no doubt pleased with Romboy’s set, but I personally wished I’d been able to see his sideshow at onesixone on Saturday night, which may have showcased a bit more of the Romboy I was looking for.