It’s been so refreshing to make music that’s really ‘defined’, finding something I’m happy with that’s new and fresh but honed down to one sound.”

This is the last thing you’d expect to hear from one of dance music’s true renaissance men. Manchester’s Justin Robertson has thrilled clubbers for 20 years, with a trademark eclecticism, his DJ sets blazing through any genre you care to name with dazzling panache and skill. Starting in 1991 with Lionrock, he fused an unlikely mix of metallic techno, baggy indie and hardcore rap – the group’s joyous big beat ska romp ‘Rude Boy Rock’ even gatecrashed the UK Top 20 in 1998. He has adopted many aliases since. With his latest project, Deadstock 33s, the chaotic glory of his previous work has been whittled down to a pin sharp blend of psychedelic acid disco. In the run-up to his Oxegen appearance, Justin revealed fond memories of our shores.
“I’ve always loved Ireland,” he enthuses. “When I was playing Temple Of Sound all the time, I was seriously thinking about moving to Dublin. I liked it that much.” He pauses, “I wish I had then because I can’t afford it now!”
Dublin’s Arveene & Misk contribute a viciously funky remix of Robertson’s latest release ‘The Devils Paintbrush’. He’s really fired up about the duo.
“I’ve known Arveene a long time. He’s a good mate and I’m really into what they’re doing. I play loads of their tunes. The response to the remix has been very good. It’s great to be able to support new talent.”
Another young act Justin’s been working with is Stopmakingme,. “I met Dan (Avery) online. We instantly found we had very similar tastes. There was so much common ground. It’s one of the things that’s really positive about the Internet. You can get in contact with so many like minded souls and get to know them, have banter. You can be on the same wavelength musically without ever physically meeting them.”
A former sales assistant at seminal Manchester dance outlet Eastern Bloc (regular customers included then-students The Chemical Brothers) Justin thinks the decline of the record store has left us all worse off.
“There was a great sense of being the selector, knowing peoples tastes, being able to say to people ‘have a listen to this, you’ll love it’. The camaraderie of it, being down the pub with your mates after record shopping going ‘look what I got today’. It can get a bit lonely staring at a computer screen.”
In a genre where artists often pride themselves on their anonymity, Justin stands out with his snappy dress sense.
“I suppose it is important to me, that sense of dandifying myself around town with a whirly moustache” he laughs, “I am a bit sartorially eccentric and like to dress up”.