In my opinion, unfortunately, Belgian progressive master Pole Folder was a disappointment. I appreciate that some of the audience may have been fans that were there to discover what detailed nuances may come to light in his ‘live’ performance. But I found the set to be pretty much just plain boring… The local supporting acts, however, were excellent. They worked as a coordinated team to gradually and respectfully build the vibe to a thrilling point in preparation for the international artist. It’s just a shame we were then let down.

At the beginning of the Pole Folder set there was a dramatic drop in intensity, and following on from Phil K I hoped at first it was a deliberate ploy to adjust the mood before he would hit us with his own unique style. I moved down front to get a good look at what he was doing. He seemed to express poise and ease, dodging back and forth without urgency between the decks and his CD wallet. I started to wonder if he was indeed ambivalent about what choices to make. I retreated to the bar and spotted a friend. I asked him what he thought of the set, and he described it as “an avalanche into the pits of repetitive misery. Judgment Day!” At that point my suspicions were confirmed, so we set about another beer and had good conversation.

Rewinding the clock a few hours, Dave Juric played early while the venue was still fairly sparse. Folk felt relaxed and stood around talking, with the music providing a warm and effective background. With a benign face and relaxed poise, his artistic fingers danced above the dials, as though capable of unleashing at any moment a beast of sound. But, it was with educated restraint that Dave Juric formed his set. The Rifles followed, and his set was a smooth transition but rapidly established a fresh influence. It opened things up more, and the pace seemed to quicken. This got people on to the dancefloor promptly.

Phil K performed the most exciting music all evening. He cracked it for the floor and the volume rose substantially, both in decibels and density. The beats came rolling and barreling with hectic content; twisting, curving momentum on a continuous flow. The dancefloor pulsed with ample groove and impact. Layers of relaxed and tasty tunes rippled above the solid meat and potatoes bass. As the set continued there was a deliberate descent into trance-inducing monotony; but this was not devoid of intellect. There were healing moments, such as tinkling piano, to offset and balance the abrasive bottom. He was moving over the equipment with quiet focus and intensity, weaving sounds with complete attention to the task.

The whole lead in to the international act had been so well tailored that the room hung with delicious anticipation. Every available body was by now on the dancefloor. What a shame it had to decline.