If you watch old footage of the Berlin Wall falling, you’ll most likely spot unfashionable Germans with bad haircuts getting set for a night of rowdy jubilation-
And it’s almost as if at this moment the proverbial beat dropped and the city’s electronic music scene quickly became the pulse for the world to follow.

With dance music institutions like the Love Parade, the nightclub Tresor and a coveted list of techno acts born out of this city, Berlin has since become an epicentre of techno music. So with 20 years since the fall of the wall it’s hard not to celebrate with an all-night dance party.

Luckily Melbourne’s Prince of Wales was privileged to have its fourth Beck’s Berlin Session to coincide with the celebration. This time it was with an even fuller, more desirable line-up of Germanic disc-jockeys. So, in true Berliner style, I was anticipating a night of no-nonsense techno fun, and a very late one at that.

Kicking the evening off was the bavarian Benjamin Fröhlich, one half of German-based label Permanent Vacation. Playing to the few that made up the more eager early crowd, it was fitting that his set was a more cruisy ambient selection of disco tracks. With most people enjoying the music passively, sitting down and from the outside balcony, the Fröhlich experience was one that would slowly transport us into the night. As his set progressively became more driven and dancey people the night was beginning to open up, before Move D would embark upon the stage.

Just after midnight the crowd hoarded into the Prince Bandroom, like the East Germans through the checkpoints 20 years ago. The Heidelbergian, Move D accommodated the newly-arrived with his deep-house, igniting the bandroom into its usual lively self. His brand of blissful house melodies, the subdued lights with the visuals of iconic Berlin flashing around the room, the night began to channel the beloved city’s feel.

Never straining beyond the subtle, Move D then passed the baton onto his fellow Deutschlaender, Ame. The duo, comprised of Kristian Beyer and Frank Wiedermann, continued the seamless thread of soulful deepness into the hours. With more melodic instrumentation, citing their soul and Detroit influences, those committed to go until 5 am were generously rewarded.

Without realizing the existence of an open backroom, I was surprised to find an enclave of local acts in a packed out small cell. This crammed atmosphere was possibly what the sparse large room was maybe lacking at times, and at times resembled a more resounding image of authentic Berlin nightlife- squashed, sweaty and without inhibition.

As Move D returning to play a final DJ set, dawn reared its inevitable and ugly head. As the glaring sun shone through the balcony windows, it became clear from the meager crowd that was left that one thing had not made the journey from Berlin to Melbourne- an endurance to party till the wee hours of the morning. Far be it from me to ever doubt the enthusiasm of Melbourne party-goers, but the rawness of Berlin presented a challenge that was maybe too disruptive to our much needed beauty sleep.

20 years ago, those Germans with the bad hair probably could not understand what that event would eventually signify- a seismic political moment. But more importantly, a fantastic excuse for party-goers in Melbourne to see some of the country’s finest DJs.