Live Review: Dexter

Dexter used to be a scrappy DMC-reigning scratch master, dazzling 20-something hip hop fans and indie rock tourists with his proto-mash approach to vinyl: System Of A Down, Aphex Twin, The Beatles and Public Enemy were churned and blended in epic, rabble-rousing style with sing-along choruses and songs you know went side-by-side with obscure funk, retro-pop gems and underground hip hop. When 30-somethings were 20-somethings, a Dexter set was a cross-genre journey of slick-fingered wizardry and showmanship; a moshing goddamned spectacle of a thing. Times have changed.

The Foxtel Festival Hub, affectionately known as 'The Box', is filled yet again with ageing hipsters, a crowd clad almost uniformly in black, closer to parenthood than adolescent abandon. These are old fans of The Avalanches, Dexter fans from way back when he was a four-time Australian DJ champion. We're still an hour shy of midnight on a Friday, but that's several hours past post-work drinks and the vibe is 'well-lubricated', with much of the audience carrying over from the electrifying Fuck Buttons gig earlier in the night.

Dexter hits the stage with his customary sartorial flair – Clark Kent specs and wicked 'fro wound up in a bushy top knot – and kinda slumps into his set. Early on, the beat mixing seems a little off and the tunes run into each other indiscriminately – decent but unremarkable booty-shakers. The gifted turntablist is onstage, framed by a rainbow splash of lights, and the crowd faces him expectantly, but he doesn't deliver much a show. The tunes come thick and fast – reggae, soul and hip hop – but it's more of a club set that a scratch session and there isn't a whole lot to see.

So we dance. Liquored up, we shuffle and wind to house and dancehall, gradually working up a sweat as Dexter works in a bit of colour. He slays us with some '70s disco, moves into '80s beats and at one point gets super obscure (even for Dexter) with a horn-wailing kind of Israeli dubstep concoction. We hear snippets of George Kranz with Din Daa Daa and Wu-Tang Clan with CREAM, Dre and Snoop with The Next Episode and The Jackson Five with I Want You Back. And it's all good, all danceable, just nothing to write home about. Other than the odd '60s torch song, his genre hopping seems a little less adventurous than it used to be. The punk kid behind the decks is now a journeyman DJ. There is no rock, no pop, no swaggering cuts of classical music in the set and ultimately that is kind of a pity.