Live Review: DJ House Shoes, Rohan The Intern, Where Two, P∆WRLS0L

Bloodhound Bar might be Brisbane's best spot to grab a quiet pint, and their decision to start hosting musicians in the upstairs bar is a masterstroke: You can just cop some delicious tacos while you check out the support acts.

Climbing up the stairs, the bar's rustic interiors are reverberating with the diverse, but often bass-heavy, mix of Brisbane beatmaker P∆WRLS0L. Sounding like the product of the internet-age eclecticism, P∆WRLS0L chops and changes between styles and motifs, from jarring industrial noise to the chilled out sounds of producer's like Knxwledge, or from beats that make the crowd nod their heads like they're about to dance, to samples from Repo Man.

Where Two lays hip hop joints as the foundation for a mix that is brimming with weighty low end and embellishments that adds something fresh to the source material. As the room starts filling up, the audience seems really receptive to Where Two's sample-heavy approach. Heads are bobbing and knees are buckling as the tempo picks up. This is where the set really hits its straps, and by the time Where Two's finished with things, he's raised the audience's expectations of Rohan The Intern.

In the main support slot, the Brisbane producer comes out intent on keeping the vibe going. It's a big deal that House Shoes has made it all the way, and Rohan The Intern sounds like he's trying to make the whole room know just how stoked they should be for what they're about to witness. Offering up a more beat-driven approach than the evening's two more ambient-leaning openers, Rohan's mix has a flow that feels effortless. As a result, there's always something there that you could dance to. So why then does the crowd seems more interested in having a smoke or clumping up in small groups to converse? It just doesn't make sense.

DJ House Shoes might be most recognisable as a talking head in documentaries about the Detroit legend J Dilla, the producer/rapper whom he helped get his start, but his production credits run so deep it's no surprise that the crowd almost doubles in size when he hits the decks. Mixing a lot of the soul records that Dilla's samples have endeared to generations that would otherwise be oblivious to, House Shoes makes a dancefloor where there was once just empty space. It seems like every record he throws on gets a cheer from at least one pocket of the crowd. Even stuff that might otherwise seem corny and played out, like Chaka Khan, elicits a wave of gyrations throughout the audience.

If every Saturday night you could watch a world-class DJ, and eat some world-class tacos, you might have just stumbled upon Valhalla.