At The Roundhouse, a Boiler Room was being set up. One of the electronic music greats was on his way. He’d flown in from Scotland on his Australian tour, and we were keen. A group of lively Scots had arrived at the barricade early, hanging their blue Scottish flag on the railings to show love for their acid-house king. The bag check was non-invasive, the toilet lines were groan worthy, but the line for a -196 moved quickly. Most people at Roundhouse assume upstairs is a VIP section, so if you don’t miss the stairs on your way in, you’re set for a shove-free zone with views of the sea mosh below. The view from above revealed the crowd beginning to swarm the booth in the middle of the room, and one of the best lighting systems I’ve seen.
Ewan McVicar knows Aussies love him. We frothed his BTV set in 2023 and granted him the coveted closing set at Pitch Music & Arts. But we’d never heard him headline his own 3-hour set with no rules, no max BPM, and no-one but him on stage. The event was sold out but there was just enough room for you to throw your hands up.
The most gun-fingers came out for Miracle Makers, McVicar’s collab with Kettama, which remixed Aussie legend Dom Dolla’s 2022 track. The girls and gays were getting around Walk 4 Me by Tronco Traxx when the horns in Miracle Makers became audible. This crazed the crowd who were jumping in complete unison. The beat drop belted out before most people could get their phones out.
Having never been to a boiler room-style set before, we watched Work (put your back in it) and McVicar’s chart topper Tell Me Something Good staring at his shoulder blades. I liked it back there, but not because of the unique view of the DJ, but because I could see the members of the crowd opposite me going ham.
From back on the upper deck, the mosh had found their groove and dispersed themselves evenly around McVicar — swarming to the DJ like moths to a light on your porch, pupils wide, jaws open… and swinging. This is how they stayed for the lyricless middle hour of the set. This hour paid homage to old-school rave beats and 303 acid sounds that Mcvicar had mastered. The crowd was swaying like seaweed in the currents led by four-on-the-floor bass and layered synths.
These circular crowds created a more immersive set and had taken off since DJs became celebrities. But I think I have a problem with it. It feeds into the ‘Face-the-DJ’ epidemic that I can’t get around. People used to face each other to dance. The DJ was the backing track and the narrative was between us. Now we stand stationary only turning to ask each other for gum.
This brings me to my second argument against it. People don’t dance and so people can’t dance. Girls bounce from left to right sitting into their hips and boys two-step like there’s dog shit on the bottom of their shoe. You get a finger in the air every once in a while, but that’s the max. Most of McVicar’s sets are completely devoid of words and so the crowd becomes a left to right bouncing blob. As a positive, you don’t have to be a good dancer to go clubbing anymore. ‘Face-the-DJ’ has opened the rave scene to those EDMbarrassments with 2 left feet.
Vice columnist Angus Harison convincingly links the ‘Face-the-DJ’ phenomena to our phones. Our inability to be absent minded without grabbing a blue-lit screen wires us to have a focal point of attention.
This has been driven by the stardom of DJs who have broken out of clubs and now host their own shows. With all those eyes on you, you are expected to entertain as a personality as much as with your music. It started with people like Fat Boy Slim bringing thousands of moths to his flame, and continues with people like Fisher whose brand might be bigger than his music. McVicar has nailed this — DJ dancing behind the deck and grooving along with the nosebleeds. He controlled the crowd without a hitch for 3 straight hours. The mosh did not dwindle all the way into the wee hours, which for Sydney is a big deal.
After the show McVicar posted to socials patting us Aussies on the back saying, “love you mad cunts” and calling Australia “probs my favorite place to play”. So maybe the DJs love the eye contact we give them after all.
I still think dancing together would be more fun. If you see some chick at the club facing the lighting deck as she dances. I’m trendsetting; leave me be.
