Red Alert on the Harbour: Basement Jaxx Deliver
By 6:00 P.M. on Thursday, the Sydney Opera House Forecourt was humming with anticipation. As the sun dipped below the horizon and cast a glow over the Harbour Bridge, the temperature settled to a perfect temperature. It was the ideal backdrop for a reunion thirty years in the making as Basement Jaxx prepared for their first live production in Australia in over fifteen years.
Close Counters, a Melbourne-based production duo made up of Allan McConnell and Finn Rees, warmed up the stage at 7:00 P.M. Their sound is a textured blend of soulful house and synth-heavy dance music. They proved to be an excellent starter, laying down a groove that got early arrivals into the right frame of mind, even though many people had yet to show up by the time they finished.
And it was quite a crowd. For those who didn't stake out a spot on the monumental stairs early, the venue was packed shoulder to shoulder. The Forecourt is a visually stunning location, but the layout is a bit unfortunate. A restless current of bodies constantly wove through the crowd, disrupting anyone simply trying to find a pocket of space to dance. It required an expedition to get drinks or visit the restrooms, which this demographic seemed to need pretty often. On the bright side, the food selection was great, and the lines moved with surprising efficiency.
When 8:15 P.M. rolled around, those minor logistical grievances evaporated. Felix Buxton and Simon Ratcliffe emerged not behind a pair of turntables, but at the front of a technicolour spectacle. Originating from the underground house scene of Brixton, South London, in the mid-nineties, the duo became famous for fusing house, garage, and big beat with Latin rhythms. Both Buxton and Ratcliffe are proud members of Generation X, and their music has long served as the soundtrack to the clubbing years of the audience standing before them.
This wasn't just a DJ set. It was a full-blown carnival experience. They brought a live band, a rotating cast of vocalists, and dancers decked out in costumes designed to stun. The production values were chaotic, complete with actual backflips and extended visuals that transformed the open-air space into a massive, pumping club.
Their setlist was a celebration that left almost no hit untouched. As the opening notes of each song echoed across the harbour, you could practically see memories being renewed as smiles washed over the crowd. From the bounce of "Good Luck" and "Romeo" to the energy of "Red Alert" and "Jump N' Shout," the audience was caught up in a wave of nostalgia. They even threw in surprising detours, including a cover of Handel's "Zadok the Priest" and a tribute to Berghain. People desperately wanted to dance with their friends, and the live instrumentation made everyone feel happy, alive, and connected.
There were moments throughout the night when the arrangement hinted at dropping into a much harder, relentless groove. I know I wasn't alone in wanting them to fully release that tension and push the tempo into darker territory. Yet it was impossible to hold on to that critique when the fun radiating from the stage was so infectious.
The main set concluded with the chaotic anthem "Where's Your Head At," and the crowd erupted. It was a moment of pure release, with thousands of people jumping about as crazily as their age and knees would allow. While a harder, darker encore might have perfected the night for the purists, they opted to maintain the celebratory spirit. The final act featured "Take Me Back to Your House" and "Mermaid of Salinas" before ending with "Bambina." With that final track, they sent the grinning crowd out into the Sydney night.
I would comfortably rate the experience a 4.5 out of 5.