As the dance floor swells uncontrollably there is a sense of anticipation in the air. The internet bloggers would debate the hype mans presence at such a gig as he screams “Annie, Annie, Annie Fucking Mac”, but the punters generously answer the call.
For such a large and compact venue The Stannary has that Ibiza atmosphere that Annie is used to, the venue begins to fill with groups of revelers buzzing for the night ahead, all waiting for the Radio One DJ. Before too long the crowd are rewarded with the sight of Annie’s now almost iconic disheveled curls as she gets ready to take to the decks.
Moving onto the stage, she wastes no time getting the crowd going with her unique blend of electronica. Everything from Duck Sauce’s latest; Big Bad Wolf to Netsky’s remix of Everyday by Rusko blast from the speakers and the head nodding begins to take over. But the song that really makes the evening is Azealia Banks’ expletive heavy ‘212’ that proves to be not only Annie’s tune of the moment but also the crowds, it stands up as one of the edgier songs of the night and reaffirms her position regarding song selection. It falls perfectly in to place between the eclectic mix of electronica and the crowd accepts it with hands raised in the air.
With good, new electronic music being hard to find with any regularity in Cornwall it’s no surprise that Annie’s set causes such excitement. The night continues as expected, the bass got louder, the revelers more excited and the drinks flowing. The dubstep begins to build as Annie conducts her bass symphony. While continually mixing songs with such ease and grooving along in her own way it’s hard to understand how a place in the DJ Mag Top 100 has still eluded her.
After dropping the hard wobble-infused electro of Knife Party and Swedish House Mafia’s; Antidote, the night is wrapped up with the crowd pleasing ‘Levels’ from Avicii that offers a touch of summer, progressive house and leaves everyone shouting for more.
The first few rows of the crowd are treated to a shot or two from Annie’s own store of vodka as she moves towards the exit, the rest nurse their wounds from the mosh pits and the night comes to a successful close, all that’s left now is finding the most suitable after-party.
Photographs taken by Chris Wilkins