Welcome to Straight Chillin' where we send the biggest EDM fans we know to gigs sober and ask them to reflect on the party, but also cast their clear eyes over the parts of the night we usually forget. Or at least, wish we could forget. For our second instalment, we head to Darkside's sold-out show at the Palace Theatre.
Before heading into Melbourne's Palace Theatre, I decide that if I'm going to make friends sober, I have to to buy cigarettes. Prison logic. Ironically the only time I do smoke is when I'm supremely drunk, so the idea of actually buying a deck is foreign to me. I ask for the cheapest pack.I head in at about 8.45 and drop $26.40 on a bottle of water. There are hundreds people here already and so far, everyone's sounding pretty articulate. I watch openers Movement—a post-rock trio out of Sydney that blur the line between R'n'B and dance. People are receptive in that kind of bored, kind of into it, sort of way. It's a tight, bass-heavy set and the buzz surrounding isn't surprising.
After Movement finishes I head upstairs to the smokers' balcony. I ask a double-denim dude for a lighter, take a drag and remember cigarettes taste like shit. I get chatting to another denim dude about what we do, how our day was, very civilised. He looks a bit like Mac DeMarco and I realise most people here are either more important than me or way too dressed up.I finish my cigarette without puking and head back inside. During my 15 minute smoke break the whole venue managed to get super drunk. A guy in his mid-40s stumbles up to me and asks if I'm having a good time. When I assure him I'm fine and he walks away, trips over his own feet and looks around angrily for the person who tripped him.
At 10.20pm, the lights go down. Darkside's Nicolas Jaar and Dave Harrington open with the drums of "Freak, Go Home." It's much dancier than I expected from the record, transforming the whole venue into one of those European superclubs. It's starting to smell like a farm.The pair's positioning on stage really allows the audience to see and appreciate how they communicate during the show. It's the kind of high level improvisation that's exactly what you want from a live performance. Everyone is sandwiched tightly and it's beginning to get uncomfortably hot and sticky so I decide to move to the back. Clearly, this is where the real party is happening. A guy in a torn denim vest with a Megadeth patch is thrashing violently and other people are hugging. A lone bald dude is standing still, contemplating life, and two meters away another guy in a flannel is doing the same. Maybe they're sober EDM writers too. Everyone keeps asking if I'm ok.
Upon playing their electrifying homage to Daft Punk, "Motherboard", it occurs to me that a lot of people are terrible dancers. I worry that's what I look like and resolve to never dance again.Jaar and Harrington manage to stretch six tracks to last an hour and a half. The show closes with an explosive rendition of the album's opening track "Golden Arrow", people lose their shit. Mac DeMarco finds me downstairs. He is having a "reeeeeal nice time," and apparently "inexumicably" is a word. Baldy has been rubbing his head for about seven minutes and Megadeth has gone into the future. I get a lot of compliments on my velvet jacket and requests to touch it. Others don't even ask. I'm not even mad.Follow Sophie on Twitter: @sophgoulop
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