Stephan Bodzin, a name synonymous with techno, hardly needs an introduction. Bodzin has collaborated with the likes of Oliver Huntemann and Mark Ronboy, remixed artists that include The Knife and Depeche Mode, and finally, has released on labels such as Get Physical, Datapunk and Systematic. To say he has a musical gift would be an understatement. With that in mind, and with the knowledge and comfort that the folks behind The Likes of You were presenting the event, we entered the venue with an air of anticipation.

I had never been to The Arthouse. To think that, at one point, the surrounding walls, and the halls that towered and filtered around us had been used by art students in their various pursuits and endeavors seemed oddly appropriate, considering the talent of the tech-experimental artist who would arrive momentarily. Italian tech-house spinner Hugo played a crowd-pleasing set. The people that were close enough reaching out in appreciation and perhaps fascination, commending a set well played. His rhythms hit with a steady bounce that were a pleasure to move to, and while most of the crowd were there for the music, it was a shame to see a select few members of the audience more concerned with pushing one another in the pursuit of a sense of manliness.

We had joined a group of people who watched with wonder as Stephan Bodzin prepared himself for the madness that would surely come. Briefly posing for several photos, Bodzin shook Hugo’s hand and then turned towards the light layered darkness. The sea of people were his domain. I had been interested to see what his live show would entail and peering into the booth, there were no less than three midi controllers, a Kaoss pad, a Lemur, firebox and his laptop. And then he began. Noises were thrown about as if evoked by whim, and then the bass dropped, and the night settled into what it was always going to be – all eyes on him. Those found around us, in our little secret of darkness, danced with a joy that surely would have been impossible in the more crowded parts of the venue. Still the bass slapped. Watching Bodzin play was like watching the best chef in the world cook five exceptionally complicated dishes all at the one time. Each of his various media tools appeared as skillets or woks from which the audience could sample his creations. The approval was found in the roars of praise that became so frequent, I am sure, should he have wanted to, he could have sampled those very noises and reworked them into his set, potentially redefining the term ‘live performance.’

Many mirrored Bodzin’s energy, the German’s body a convulsion of movement and, behind black rimmed glasses, his eyes were wide with excitement and intelligence. Stumbling out of the venue, it was hard to pinpoint exactly what had just occurred. Our weary legs told the story of a night that had seemingly taken prisoners. However, as for how it was done, and by what means, his methods were as brilliant as they were elusive. The night was, perhaps, best summed up by the smile and wondrous eyes of a cute brown haired girl dancing close to me. As I turned to leave, I noticed her staring at Bodzin, her mouth opened; she whispered… ‘wow.’