Dr Rubenstein at Munro Warehouse - Ashray Kumar

2 PM - 4 PM

I have not worn a bumbag since 2021. An ecosystem of sweat sticks to my chest as the hem of my skirt drags across a puddle. A legion of shirtless white boys trickle into the venue, and I inspect their person with judging eyes: jorts, Nike caps, and fuckass Salomons that have never seen a mountain. One of them sees me looking and snickers. I stuff my skirt into my purse. Whatever, one blissful hour of Anna Lunoe and this cup of Pinot Gris will save me and my stupid tranny life. Where is China?

I give in to caution, duck back inside and grab a raincoat. It’s slightly too big, and I fear that I now give off the vibe that I only wear gorpcore. The rain subsides by the time we reach Olympic Park, and we stash my raincoat near an inconspicuous tree. I enter Munro Warehouse and among the mess of people swarming the barricade in the mostly empty Stage 1, I wonder if Hugo could be among them.

I arrive at a friend's house late. Our scheduled Uber follows closely behind, we hop in, and we attempt to schedule our set times. I am nervous to enter, and I wonder how long I can put up with the scratching of plastic in my dacks. The heat is heavy, and my sixth, UV-detecting sense is completely overwhelmed. We arrive at the gates and we already begin to pull apart.

At its entrance, a single Boiler Room tapestry and a cattle-grid-like entrance marked the dawn of the Shirepocalypse, as prophesied in the Book of Randwickvelations. Building on last year’s one-stage wonder, this year the Boiler Room overlords have blessed Sydney’s starving nightlife with triple the stages, nearly triple the artists, and triple the Instagram ads. Boiler Room began in the early 2010s in the London rave scene, growing steadily, and over time expanding to the dance world goliath we know today. After spending hours studying the tomes (Floating Points, Ryota, and Nia Archives), we were ready to experience the real thing.

4 PM - 7 PM

I find God at the barricades and his name is Yikes. I will admit, I don’t have the most learned ear when it comes to techno — and I’m unsure if this is the fifth cup of white wine talking — but something in his DJ set had unearthed an unknown love in me. I am so lost in the beauty of it all that I try to muzz and miserably fail, nearly elbowing China in the cheekbone. Ashray returns from the pit and tells me he’s hungry. Departing halfway through FUKHED’s set, we drag ourselves out of the warehouse. Ashray and I dissociate on a bench. Like buoys on the sea, I spot one head of orange, then two Hugo and China approach us.

I run into Joan and she has cigarettes. Which sounds like the best thing ever. We discover how different our experiences are becoming. I am elated but trying desperately to be hydrated, chasing my friends between stages, and attempting to catch every good DJ. In the crowd, a sense of community felt almost deliberately difficult to find. Millennials postured to the young about how the old Boiler Rooms were better and that the last DJ was way better in São Paulo in 2012. Many people turned their noses up at anyone squeezing past them like we all didn’t pay upwards of $130 to stand in a room with each other. Very few pleasantries or smiles were exchanged. For many, it was better to pretend like everyone they didn’t know wasn’t there.I wonder if further into the night others will begin to feel similar to me or if sociality will remain behind the barrier. China leaves to hydrate.

At the bar, everyone’s substances and beverages have coagulated into a sweaty dilated mess. I love the music, but the swamp we are listening to it in is becoming treacherous. Prior to Boiler Room, we laughed about what the sober experience would be. Would I have a better time marvelling at the pure beauty of community and music? Would it be an unbearable cesspit? Going sober for the most part was a very fun experience. At the barricade during FUKHED’s set, at House of Silky, eating a snack pack with Joan and Ashray, I found moments of happiness. But for all of these cherished memories, I also felt alienated. After the horrors of crowd crushing, losing litres of sweat, and thinly veiled grimaces, I pulled out my notes app and wrote, ‘boiler room is less a celebration of dance music and more so an excuse for Sydney’s youth to all congregate for the grand joy of cocaine.’ In hindsight, I would have a more measured response. Boiler Room is a celebration of dance music, but also, for many, an excuse to congregate for the grand joy of cocaine and posturing. It was fun, but by 7:34, I was overwhelmed, overheated, and no longer found the allure of dance music convincing enough to stay. Joan and Hugo would have to go on without me.

Fukhed at Munro Warehouse - Ashray Kumar

8 PM - 11 PM

God bless IMOGEN, there were moments where her set was beautiful, but there were definitely moments where it felt like you needed to be way more gone to truly appreciate the droning drums. The allure started wearing off; I was sobering up. The crowd simply felt like people in a warehouse; the fancy lighting simply felt like moving lights. I end up aimlessly walking outside for 30 minutes like an ant in a death circle. I know Boiler Room mostly from the People Of videos and the infamous Kaytranada dancing girl. Watching a set feels intimate: it’s only you, the DJ, and a bunch of odd characters. Nothing prepares you for how much larger, how much more detached, and how much more populous it actually is. However, House of Silky undid some of what I said. The stage around the DJ was alive, with people voguing and dancing. It was evident that there was an identity here shared by unabashedly queer BIPOC people who were in love with what they were doing. But I only saw little as they wrapped up with only 30 minutes left until 11 PM. I’ve been here for 9 hours. It was time to leave. My last recollection of the night is watching everyone catch the train eastwards, and boarding the westward train with only a smattering of other boilers.

The end of my fingertips buzz, I feel droplets on my back, and blue light washes over me. I. Hugo. I tap my friend on the shoulder and point toward the stage. I. JORDAN. We find this really funny. We are reminded by our group chat of our split allegiance between Bad Boombox and CLUB X. Bad Boombox b2b Mischluft was raucous, but let down by an outdoor stage that suffered from a lack of amplification and a muddy turf that prevented significant movement. We leave for Munro. The air had shaken the heat from the day and the misters had less of an elegant cooling mist and more of a violent and tired splutter. My evening’s closer, Skin on Skin, pulled no punches. It was inspired, intimate, and energetic — a rich tapestry of curation from one of Meanjin’s best. Unfortunately, I was unable to fully immerse myself, the AV only catering to the centre strip of the room and the cameras. Leaving was a total shitfight — public transport was classically overwhelmed and private transport was deadlocked for the foreseeable future. With a pocketful of good memories, I long for a shower and my bed.

Boiler Room was last weekend’s confused lover, trying its best to be intimate, but couldn’t do the work to make it so (even though you both really wanted it to). It wasn’t able to make up its mind if it wanted to be a festival or a club show. It felt both stretched and dense, many of the performers exceptional, but safe. It was impossible to catch everyone worth seeing but those you did, you wish you didn’t want to leave them behind. Speakers only catered to a third of the room and there was a ringy echo everywhere. Subwoofers either suffered from severe engineering neglect or sounded completely absent unless you stood right in front of them. We had a lot of fun with Boiler Room, but much of Saturday felt built for each set’s eventual Youtube upload, rather than for being there to see it. At least we can comment saying that we were there.

Joan De La Kagasawa and Ashray Kumar received media passes courtesy of Boiler Room. Hugo Anthony Hay and China Meldrum purchased their tickets during the first round of presale.

A Boiler Room with a View

2 PM - 4 PM

4 PM - 7 PM

8 PM - 11 PM