OK, let’s set some ground rules here. I love Minus. I have idolised Richie Hawtin since the ‘90s and stuck with him through thick and thin, shaved head and comb-over. And I am a massive fan of the artists he has brought to the label.

This DVD should be amazing footage of an unprecedented world tour for an electronic music stable, and an incredible opportunity to showcase different club cultures around the world united by a common love of minimal techno.

It succeeds in part. What could go wrong? Well, only the ego of everyone that has something to say in this strange anti-techno film. It should have been a record of a high point, a momentous occasion celebrating our music culture…but it winds up being 78 minutes of self-important whinging.

The Ubercoolische meme was a joke. The article it was based on was a hilarious splooge of pretentious suck-up sex wee. So why is Minus trying so hard to embody their much-parodied caricatures?

Let’s start at the beginning. There’s a bit of an explanation of the concept and the technical wizardry – the perhaps unprecedented complexity – behind it. You can’t deny that what the Contakt parties accomplished was impressive, a first of its kind. Then we head on tour with the crew. For the geeks, there’s lingering shots of tables filled with MacBooks, Allen & Heaths and assorted cabling. For the punters, there’s some panty-moistening footage and audio of some utterly brilliant dancefloor moments.

And then there’s The Cube. The shimmering, Wi-Fi enabled embodiment of the false idols Moses was talking about. This is where the whole thing starts to unravel. The Contakt concept is a technological tour de force, but it becomes caught up in its own contrivances. At one point, Heartthrob is having a go at a misplaced LED display. “Who’s going to go to a party and stand with their head looking up at the ceiling?” Well, who’s going to go to a party to find a cube so they can swipe their membership card and stand around looking at a live stream of content on their iPhone of the party that they’re currently at? Pardon my cynicism.

But the main thrust of the film is only just starting to become apparent. As it goes on, you begin to become aware of all the complaining that’s going on. The artists break down the dramas into minute detail – and there are a lot of dramas. The talking heads sometimes as contrived as a 20 to 1 Z-grader. The talking heads are hilarious (see: the Berlin gig ones). They bitch about everything. Sometimes within reason, but it gets tired quickly. Complaining when the computer gets too hot; complaining when their software upgrade has incompatibility issues; even complaining when The Cube’s Wi-Fi won’t penetrate six-foot solid walls. Richie reveals the ‘rider’ list of instructions blew out to 17 pages – and I don’t think he’s talking about separating the M&Ms.

The whole thing plays like a multimedia reply to an inthemix forum post slagging off an event for not being absolute perfection. I haven’t looked into the feedback that the Contakt parties got – I didn’t want my review of the DVD to be influenced by that. But I’ll say again: the party footage on this DVD is epic. The technical bits behind the show are noteworthy enough as well. The acts just let the speaking bits get in the way of it.

The whole thing is so negative and pompous. They even insult the fans. Over shots of reasonably sedate and well-mannered London fans in a queue to get into the seOne venue: “There were so many people outside, freaking out, like. They were running over the street like, ‘I need a photo, I need a signature’ and we were a little bit scared. The atmosphere was insane.” Sorry, but these are the fans who have come, by your own admission, to see a “rock band type show in an electronic environment”. People idolise Hawtin and Minus. What were you expecting? This is not a new revelation – there’s nothing in the footage to suggest Hawtin was in danger.

Probably the most positive and original part of the DVD is the part where Ali Demirel’s role is showcased. Not exactly a household name in Australia, his role as visual artist is one that Minus has been pushing heavily overseas for the last few years. With Demirel, Minus have a visual complement that travels with the music, not an in-house VJ trying to keep up with the DJ guest. Aside from the music footage from around the globe, there are a lot of funny moments to endear this film, and Minus, to even the most cynical. The label’s roster doing karaoke in particular casts these guys in a different light.

To the grand finale. Either because it’s the final gig, or because Japan is just awesome, everything goes right in Tokyo. Cue much grandiose self-congratulations. Even as the stupendous footage of the event plays out, the voiceovers are jarring.

I love Minus, and I’ll continue to listen to and go to see these great artists, but come on guys. I was actually going to ham up this article as a parody of a comedy movie review – but ultimately, the film left me with such a bad taste in my mouth that I had to, in the style of all great online content, get all this off my chest.

“There’s so many things that can go wrong here,” recalls Richie of his freak-outs at the Berlin gig. “I was responsible for keeping a positive energy and, like, belief in the whole system,” Richie divulges, like a nervous project manager. In another life, I’m a project manager, and I go through the same stresses every other day that are chronicled here. I could complain ad infinitum about the minutiae of my job, but who’s listening? And just because it’s Richie Hawtin speaking, does that make it any more interesting? Maybe I’m lucky there aren’t cameras following me in my daily job. If a tree falls in a forest, and no one’s filming it, does anyone give a shit?

Making Contakt is out now on Minus through Inertia.