Fruit bowls are overflowing on the bar next to economy-sized jugs of water – shit's going to get real tonight. Fuzion plays the early slot to the true believers before Robohan provides us with progressive and dark beats with a real rounded bounce. Elliot Clarke then delivers an at times clunky, effects-heavy set before the headliner appears in a leather jacket, collar popped.
Peak hour is a bit weird tonight, arriving at the Sunday session friendly time of 7pm. A pack of Tim Tams are on the rider, the Moet is on the ice – does Beetle Bar even have champagne on the menu normally? They do for Dave Clarke. Ear plugs are fitted, a roar erupts and the journey begins; within five minutes you can't even think. The Brighton-born, Amsterdam-based techno great is at his unforgiving best, showing off his full bag of tricks without letting the beat go soft even for a second. As a man who's forever played by his own rules, it's no surprise to see him go direct for the jugular, fiddling with the venue's sound system EQs side of stage. He pushes the switches into the red zone and the whole place melts. Green Velvet & Phil Kieran's Birds & Bees gets a spin from Clarke, he guzzles some Gatorade and as we're approaching the one-hour mark it's smothering. Then what does he do? He turns the levels up even further. Clarke is creating a soundtrack for war, the apocalypse, and is seemingly trying his hardest to blow the speakers completely. The sound guy appears on stage and tells him to get it out of the red; after he leaves though Clarke simply turns the front speakers around and drops the biggest beat of the night. Downstairs on the dancefloor the volume impacts like a king hit to the face; upstairs allows you to view a genius at work, Clarke's fingers blurring on the fader, his timing and feel of mood meaning he always leaves the perfect wait time that turns an obvious drop into something monumental. The beats then disperse and suddenly Clarke is rapping verses to Digital Underground's The Humpty Dance. He grabs the camera that's been recording the whole event and unsurprisingly fucks around with it. He then plays with the speakers some more, the support DJs are sharking – it looks like it's all going to wrap up by 9pm… it's criminal, but unfortunately it happens. Clarke loops the beat to Roots Manuva's Witness The Fitness before handing out Tim Tams, ditching bananas everywhere and then giving the entire dancefloor a champagne shower. By this stage he's even cracking a genuine smile.
