Sydney in summer is full of repeated rituals. Just like the masses beating a path to the Hyde Park Barracks every January, there’s that moment when you pore over the Sydney Festival program for the first time in November and start salivating in anticipation.

Beginning with an excited squeal back all those weeks ago, my anticipation for this particular Saturday had been building steadily. Continuing the month, nay, years of quality names, it was time for the Barracks to host that man, Mathew Jonson, and his long-time band, Cobblestone Jazz.

Bounding into the Barracks to catch the end of Peret Mako and a typically understated, classy warm-up, it was some surprise to see the dancefloor empty and a small crowd milling around the various bars at the venue’s other side. As Jonson began, part of me wanted to yell and scream that the ring-ins were missing what they’d ostensibly paid good money for.

Nonetheless, ring-ins aside, the heads were quickly on the floor, and it quickly became irrelevant, as my attention was wholly captivated by another audience with Jonson and his banks of equipment. He started with a bang, his better known hits coming at the start, the haunting strings of Apocalypse not far from the top.

As always, it was the arrangement of tracks that was stunning. Jonson’s tireless working of the huge mixer was, as ever, amazing. Bringing in loops, manipulating them, floating countless others over the top, Jonson is something of a magician. However the new set-up he’s using makes this arrangement all the more fluid, and makes each set all the more unique.

For a man with the most physically impressive live set-up in the biz, it was a shame he was elevated from the crowd with no camera showing what was happening up on stage. Call me a chinstroker, but watching Jonson at work is something else.

In the middle of the mayhem, some fireworks began exploding at the nearby concert in the Domain. Jonson panicked for a good thirty seconds, frantically gesticulating at the sound guy to check his crackling foldback speakers. When he realised the actual source of the popping noises, he laughed with his whole body. Then got back to work.

That was the kind of light-hearted vibe the marquee had. The crowd was in raptures, all smiles, losing complete control at the hands of the grinning Jonson. But soon enough it was time for his mates to join him on stage, and the fluidity of the arrangement took on a whole other level – the interaction between Cobblestone Jazz was as fantastic to watch as the music they created together.

Coming off Jonson’s slamming atmospherics, it was a left turn to US house to start, not far from the Mad Racket playbook that would be heard at the Barracks a week later. All of a sudden – boom! – the boys dropped in squelchy effects and filters, crafting a layered, gorgeous style of tech. Delicious. From there it was a journey through as many sounds as we’d heard from Jonson, although more downtempo. Many would say that the band should have played before Jonson to bring the night up to a crescendo, but nonetheless this was a richly enjoyable set. Understatement of the year?

It seemed a long wait for Murat Kilic to begin and the crowd, which had never been densely populated, drifted back to the wings. The stage remained empty, but good tunes were coming from somewhere. Where was Murat? A couple of rows of punters hugged the stage’s barricades waiting for someone to get up there, seemingly oblivious to the fact he was in…the small tent to the side. From these inconspicuous surrounds, Murat dished up a set of infectious, atmospheric, housey tech. I’m used to something a bit more banging from him, but this was bloody marvellous.

Whether it was the split between dancefloors or the strange lack of people at the event, the crowd dwindled pretty quickly. For sure, for tech lovers this gig was sandwiched by the Henrik Schwarz (Future Classic) and Octave One (Mad Racket) gigs, but since when is there such a thing as too much of a good thing?

In the end, some people stayed on the main dancefloor because the sound was better inside the marquee. The issues with sound at Beck’s have been well-documented this year, and continued here. It was a shame to have two ‘lanes’ of decent sound in front of the left and right speaker stacks, and being able/needing to hug a stack during Jonson’s set to get a proper earful of him.

Nonetheless, it would be foolish to suggest that Beck’s is losing its magic. The set-up can be tweaked, and the line-ups show no danger of becoming mediocre. We’ll keep heading there to be as wowed as we were with Jonson and his Jazz. Like sounds through the hourglass, so are the days of our summer.