“Thankyou for not going to Southbound,” praised host Diger Rokwell , “And representing down here for us. For each other. Oh yee-ah.” With this affirmation he opened 2009’s first show by hip hop and art collective The Community . The crowd was considerably cooler than the beer, which was as warm as the hearts of the punters who kept buying it to support The Community via bar proceeds. The slim young things drank charitably and gave up rythmic self-control to RTR’s Rokwell, whose quality trip-hop had people’s heads bobbing in unison. Pairs of dazzling white reissue Adidas sneakers tapped along; the sets of three blue stripes kept perfect time with his beats. Almost none of this crew were around in the 80’s, where if you couldn’t afford the heralded leather Adidas Romes, you settled for the cheap two-stripe Kmart – œFirenze’ knock-offs and got busy on them with a blue marker. Great days.

Dazastah of Downsyde had a good set and a better setback; having forgotten to bring a few of his own tracks he fired up some rhymes by Hunter, starting with Going Back to Yokine .

It said – œPerth’ more than anything else on offer all night.

Ex-Melbourne MC Nick Sweepah got some introductory hype from host Rokwell before taking the mic. “I’m doing a weird set tonight,” he announced over an evil chord bed. “Using entirely jacked beats from this last year, sort of a live mixtape if you will”. Sweepah paced out his ground, waiting for the first beat to drop. His sharp rhyming made up for the visual brevity of his set; the man doesn’t dance for your pleasure. He barely grooves, eyes front, wielding his expressive left arm as if it’s the red pen of insight, marking up society’s homework with a deadly flourish. His tone of authority and choice of beats attracted curious punters from the adjacent Flying Scotsman and had the Velvet Lounge three quarters full by mid-set. A lot of rhymes from his Respice Adspice Prospice EP got a run over new beats, although Part Three: Run was performed as god intended.

Nashi Per took over and spun – as described by Rokwell – “Heavy heavy funk, cosmic jazz, all sorts of different shit”. And lo it was good.

Dazastah returned to the decks to rescue Stoop Fresh , who were a DJ short, and the man filled in seamlessly. The five-strong stoopers hit the stage looking like a clean-cut swarm of Nike-sponsored anglo youth evangelists, until soul songstress Mei Lim kick-started her potty-mouth.
“You better fuckin’ like it,” she warned as they kicked off with Change . “Don’t be scared.”
J-Large and the stoop crew enjoyed a smooth ride with some sweet-solid summery beats until their unveiling of the new – œstoop-nes’ material; locally repping the wave of Nintendo retro love doing the rounds. It was well received by their support crew, who seemed loud and many from the get-go, but by halfway through SF’s set the room was emptier; the casuals had returned to the Scots’ bar, leaving the stoop faithful with more dance space.

Stoop Fresh’s stage-packing mainstream groove was sonically and visually far removed from Sweepah’s dark arts. Both acts, and the DJ’s sets between them, made for a value-laden contrast gig of hip hop stylings, all gloriously free. Staying home from Southbound can have its compensations.