Live Review: Hot Dub Time Machine, Paces

As we file into the iconic Forum Theatre in amongst a crowd of slightly tipsy, albeit elated and still groovy punters, Paces is already in full swing. His sound is a smooth mixture of synthy beats and infectious bass. With hints of R&B flavours, he has the eager crowd warming up with some of the finest dad-dancing this venue has ever seen.

One look around the room leaves a somewhat confusing impression. There are 40-somethings who look like they just stumbled out of work, 20-somethings in head to toe leopard print, and even a couple of brave outliers who look like a festival threw up on them. But in what feels like no time at all, the lights are lowering and a countdown flashes across a huge screen. More and more people file in, and soon tonight's sweaty and all-consuming pit gives new meaning to the term 'sold out'.

The countdown strikes '00:00:00' and under a wave of applause and cheers the much anticipated Hot Dub Time Machine (aka DJ Tom Lowndes) takes up his place behind the decks. It doesn't take long and Lowndes has done as his stage name suggests and smoothly slipped us back into the '50s. What's crazy is by the time we hit the '60s era of Lowndes' time travelling dance and music masterclass, he really has the room feeling like we have travelled back through the decades. He has us attempting to jive and swing to The Isley Brothers, then he has a crowd of somewhere around 2000 people all trying to do Michael Jackson's Thriller choreography together. But what's most impressive is Lowndes unparalleled talent for picking the perfect point and duration of a track to elicit that "awh I love this song" moment in 100% of his audience. And yes, we do it every single time.

Coming to the end of the two and a half hour set, everyone is practically voiceless, sweaty as if they just ran a marathon and still singing along to every word they know — and even those they don't by the sound of it. Other than thinking Lowndes should release an at-home dance workout video, we're thinking it's hard to find a fault in tonight's show. After all, he has complete strangers singing Madonna to each other, and has satisfied the inner daggy dancer and hair-brush singer in all of us.

He closes the night with a classic singalong tune, The Beatles' Hey Jude, and as we all journey, arm in arm, out into the rest of the night chanting the lyrics, we have to admit this guy is truly some kind of genius.