- The anticipation for Ishtar was quietly gigantic. It’s rare to see an independent party getting so many people talking, but that’s exactly what Ishtar had accomplished. The techno community was excited. It was time to lose it in a warehouse.
But did it live up to expectations?
Fuck no.
It completely superseded them.
Having been led on a tour of the half-complete venue earlier in the week for this preview, I had been one of the proponents of this warehouse’s potential.
But all the preconceived images counted for nothing when I walked in and saw the warehouse in the flesh.
Jobe was playing some up-for-it tough techno, the lights above were twirling, the cityscape at the back was awaiting the beams of the laser, the dancefloor was not yet at capacity but those that were there were loving the quality music on the quality sound system.
Oh yes, this was going to be a good night.
With Jobe dropping ‘Lost and Found B2’ before I even had time to find my feet on the concrete floor, I was even more excited. I ran around like a kid in a candy store. Look at those lights! Here’s the drawing room! What’s happening in the chill space? Ooh! Aah!
Jobe was all class, slamming out the tunes and not seeming to notice he was playing the first set of the night – bugger the ‘warm-up’ mentality – this guy knew better!
Up next was Simon Mark, aka the brains behind the party. His varied track selection went from the tougher stuff to tech-house. More people flowed in to enjoy his set - and the warehouse in general!
The place was toasty warm with heaters in the corners, the laser was switched on, and the VJ got to work.
The chill space was surreal. Campbell and his fellow beats and squeaks programmers relaxed on cushions and beanbags by their equipment. Swathed in a fine curtain, their area was in the middle of the narrow room, cushions either side for punters and the speaker stacks at either end of the space.
Still on the live tip, Machina was up next in the main room for a one hour set. I had been told to expect plenty of wacky samples but was pleasantly surprised with a well-crafted live set of jackin’ techno beats.
The big novelty track moment came towards the end with Womack & Womack’s ‘Teardrops’ belting out from the superbly tuned speakers. By that stage I had staked out a panel in the drawing room and was busying myself with artistic pursuits.
But the call of Kazu got me back onto the concrete.
Like the song of a Siren I was sucked in to this instantly engaging set. Kazu played unlike any other DJ I’ve heard recently, a style of music that perfectly suited the night and personally was right on the money.
This was tough techno with that old minimal feel of the warehouses of yesteryear. This was driving techno that pulled you in, locked you to the floor, and got you dancing.
Kazu used all three decks perfectly, with the minimal track selection meaning he was able to layer track on top of track, dropping one tune out, slapping on another, working the mixer, manipulating the vinyl, stitching together a masterful set.
It was minimal, it was percussive. Kazu had chosen tracks that, if they weren’t made in days gone by, certainly sounded like they were. Classic minimal production techniques were employed, which doubly lent themselves to the three deck format and the wicked true warehouse vibe.
Absolutely delicious. Some nutter took a piece of drawing room paper and a texta and fashioned a sign that read, simply, ‘KAZU KNOWS’. The dancefloor knew exactly what the sign meant. This set was The Shit.
After about ninety minutes of slaying the dancefloor with this flawless magnum opus, Kazu then turned his attention to better known tunes. Tracks as varied as ‘La Rock’ and ‘Los Hijos Del Sol’ went down an absolute treat, Kazu still mixing with perfection but allowing the dancefloor a breather from the melee.
The crowd cheered their way through the last half hour after being decimated by a brilliant set. Kazu didn’t even break a sweat.
But if his last half hour was a low intensity workout, the break – if any – was abruptly brought to an end by Dave Pham. If Kazu knew how to impress the crowd, Pham knew exactly what we wanted.
Opening with a flurry of hard techno tracks, the dancefloor yelled and perspired their appreciation. The tracks came tough and relentless. I loved it. I absolutely loved it. And in the midst of all this mayhem came Pham’s almost trademark surprise track.
At F3 and TransAtlantic, his two largest June gigs, he had made my night by pulling out Jark Prongo’s 1998 monster, ‘Movin’ Thru Your System’. I had been eagerly anticipating what novelty tune July would bring, but nothing prepared me for the reality.
Johannes Heil – ‘I Love To Beat You Cause I Hate You’
For those unfamiliar with the track, indulge me with a moment to set the scene. It’s 1998. You’re in a dark and dirty warehouse going mental to dark and dirty techno. It’s layered, booming stuff. It flows over you and sweeps you off your feet like a tidal wave of sonic ecstasy.
With its rolling, evil melody, a ride cymbal that slaps you about, a sexy, violent vocal, and general all-out anarchy, this track catapulted the Ishtar warehouse of 2002 back to those heady warehouses of yesteryear. This is, for me, the lofty height of techno that is lost, gathering dust in ‘retro’ record crates.
But for a few minutes on Saturday night, the Ishtar dancefloor was arrested by this tune. It grabbed them by the scruff of the neck, yelled at it with its rhythm, and pummeled it with its beat. It screamed, “This is what techno is all about.”
Dave Pham, you are a fucking sick cunt. What more can I say?
Having spent 232 self-indulgent words on Johannes Heil, I’ll go on to crow that Dave went straight from 1998’s best to 2001’s best with Gaiden’s original ‘Point Blank’ fury.
I don’t know how he does it, but, as I said, somehow Dave Pham knows exactly what the dancefloor hungers for.
It didn’t stop there, either. Pham ripped out more hard genius (the Chris Liebing remix of ‘Get On Up’, ‘Nervehammer’) with lush electro interludes (Adult, Groove Electronic). What a maestro. Dave Pham definitely knows.
Complimenting the aural gluttony, the laser and the VJ were providing a visual feast. A camera looking down onto the DJ was running through a filter to dazzle punters on the projection screen. But it was the laser which really grabbed my attention. A full colour beast, it was quicker and more complex than any laser I’ve seen before. And if you turned around to look at the back wall, you were frequently dumbfounded with some rather spectacular animations.
This laser didn’t just sketch out dot to dot drawings, it actually seemed to paint pictures. A portrait of a woman was rendered with tonal detail, and then rotated to her profile in 3D!
As that character on ‘The Fast Show’ used to say, “Excuse me, but I’ve just come.”
Back to the music then, to Dave Rankine’s set. This was a varied three deck journey through many different genres, going from Pham’s techno to a starting point of what else, but progressive?
Pete Lazonby’s ‘Sacred Cycles’, replete with that string sample was the lush, lush, lush (did I mention lush?) intro to his set but the following track brought the tech back in. Soon enough, we were singing along to ‘Sunglasses at Night’, and rocking to Marco Bailey’s ‘Tuning’ (Chester Beatty remix). Rankine exploited the mixer, at times maxing out the effects to create a soundscape that was anything but standard.
From the moment he dropped the needle onto his first track, the dancefloor was in love with Mike Callander. And what an opening it was: the Player remix of ‘Rub On Ya Titties’ is probably as big a Fokus monster as you’ll ever hear, but as Fokus is in hibernation this was the first time I’d heard the track at a party.
Mike moved through the realms of funky techno, tech-house, electro, and everything in between with apparent ease. On the funky tip, ‘Compound’ got a look-in, on the harder tip, there was ‘Body Freefall’ (Needle Damage mix), and on the ‘classic that is guaranteed to send the dancefloor wild’ tip there was ‘Acid Phonk’, the ’99 stormer from 2 Bald Men.
With 9am approaching the crowd had thinned out markedly but there were still a few enamoured with the warehouse soldiering on. And with Callander making his current favourite from Smash TV one of ours by dropping it as his last track, there was really no compulsion to go home.
Add to that the fact that Dallas was standing by, and the nearby famous South Melbourne Market Dim Sims shop was open for business, and I was all set to make camp on the dancefloor.
Dallas did indeed make a cameo after the party’s scheduled closing time. His mixing was tight, his track selection richly enjoyable. A lovely techno digestif for the night’s numerous main courses. Hmmm, maybe I’m being too subtle in my praise. How’s this? PROMOTERS, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, BOOK DALLAS NOW, HE WILL ROCK YOUR DANCEFLOOR’S WORLD.
As praiseworthy as Dallas may be, someone was so nonplussed that they cut power to the speakers after only half an hour from the top jock. And slowly, sadly, the stayers trickled out into a beautiful Melbourne midmorning.
If you’ve made it this far, then you’re to be commended. I tend to waffle on a bit when I really love a party, so I hope the sheer volume of crap above shows you how good it was!
Ishtar. I loved it. I absolutely loved it. You know who else loved it? Everyone that went.
From Jobe to Dallas, Ishtar was an incredible party. In fact, it was one of the best parties I’ve ever been to. The warehouse is sensational, and Simon’s attention to detail and generous production standards were stupidly brilliant.
I salute his selfless, giving ethic. The effort, the thought, and the money he poured into this party was immense and I’m not the only patron that was totally blown away by his creation.
ATTENTION PROMOTERS: THIS IS HOW YOU PUT ON A PARTY!
Well fucking done to all concerned with Ishtar. If I could rate it eleven out of ten, I would. Let’s do it again, real soon. Please!