As I pulled up outside at around twelve, I spied that the queue was almost Nada. Bollocks! I thought. Roast is empty, and straight away I felt like giving in to the sleep that was calling me from the back of my mind. No matter, I shook off the usual pre-rave tiredness, and stepped up to the door, to be politely searched, leaving me to breeze through to the rammed main arena. Straight away I started to enjoy myself, as I felt the atmosphere of pure jungle bliss slapping me in the face. Oh my god; I knew I would have a safe night out no matter how tired I had been before.

The Island, if you haven’t been, is a converted theatre with the DJ’s performing musical feats of talent and style on the large stage, while the crowd bust out moves on the dance floor below. Since my last visit, tow new staircases had been installed, reducing the queues I had experienced before to the massive upper balcony, which covers the whole of the back of the theatre where you can sit back and relax whilst watching the warriors of steel spin plates. Also on this upper level was a small house arena, but I stayed well clear as all I could hear was some seriously cheesy house music, why bother?

Drinks at the two bars were the usual con prices, but that’s enough of that. What gnawing, well the Roast massive were treated to a lesson in rhythmical melody. As I got in, Nicky Blackmarket and Stevie Hyper were rinsing out tune after tune, and wiping the floor with any kind of musical style you care to mention.

By the time Andy C has stepped, Nicky had set the crowd out to dry. As we tried to recover from the rough and tumble of a great set.

Andy C soon joined in the celebration making the champagne bottles pop, the music rock and the people stomp, one of the best sets of the night.

Hot on his heels was a Younghead and SL back to back extravaganza, but what promised to be a great set was ruined by one of those annoying technical difficulties, cutting the volume in half, which felt like going to the toilet and discovering there isn’t any paper, one of life’s major downers.

So what did you get for £17, apart from a pecking order which also included Ron, Grooverider and Jumping Jack Frost. Well, not much really, (apart from some lovely dancers). The Roast 4th Birthday Bash was in fact most memorable for a rough selection of musical style and fashion, bettered by few organisations today, just one of those nights that whenever you thought of a tune, along would come the mix.

Well Oh boy! Another night to remember for me from the mad, mad Roast massive, see yah at the next one.