To paraphrase one of the great lines from ‘90s cult classic Dazed and Confused: “That’s what I love about these Prince of Wales crowds, man. I get older, they stay the same age.”

Exhibit A: Thursday night’s party with French DJ Surkin and UK up-and-comer Burns. (And speaking of young’uns, is Surkin even old enough to get into the Prince? He looks like he’s hardly old enough to board the international flight from France on his own, let alone cause wave after wave of hot sweaty bodies to simulate sex acts deep into the night. But I digress…)

The night started out innocently enough. By the time I arrived, Generik was mid-way through his set. The crowd was respectable, with PoW about half full. Generik dropped some good, funky disco, and got the crowd swaying strongly, a good three or four notches below truly heaving.

Taking it to the next level was left to UK DJ Burns, making his Australian debut. His first few tracks were pleasant nu-wave disco-ish, certainly not moving the crowd in any great way, but not causing a dancefloor desertion either. Then, about 15 minutes into his hour-long set, the tunes took a turn to the slightly sinister, electronic turn. By then the dancefloor was getting crowded. Ears pricked up; feet started moving a bit faster, and away we went. Burns turned out to be a real gem, and will no doubt be rocking dancefloors in our fair country for some time to come.

By the times Burns gave way to Surkin, the crowd was damn near gagging for it. Surkin promised a party in interviews before the show, and deliver he did. His set was very French, very chic, and very bad-ass. The baby-faced DJ was frenetic behind his lone laptop, cutting a pasting tracks rife with that Ed Banger and Institubes sound.

If I could make any complaint, it was that Surkin was a bit too busy back there, a few times cutting from one track to another before the proper build-up could happen. It was as if Surkin had a serious case of ADD, and had left his Ritalin back in the land of fois gras and frogs’ legs.

Unfortunately, I had had my fill by the time Acid Jacks took the stage. Having seen this pair countless times, though, I have no doubt they sent the sweaty, smiley kiddies off with a bang. As for this old codger, it was home to bed, and to ready myself for the long weekend ahead.