Pantha du Prince

In some ways, Sneaky Pete's is the perfect venue for German producer Hendrik Weber (alias Pantha Du Prince) to ply his trade. The cramped confines force the hundred or so punters lucky enough to score a ticket to tonight's sold out show into a sweaty morass, bringing a strangely intimate feel to proceedings. Openers The Brothers Grimm are a welcome surprise: a band with almost no history and little by way of profile, their ambient electronica – replete with enormous basslines and superbly textured visuals – fulfils the role of the warm-up act to perfection. By the time a synthesized voice thanks the crowd and the three DJs leave the stage, the party-goers are already at their ease and ready to dance.

Weber mounts the low stage alone in a haze of dry ice and, in the manner of all the best electronic musicians, spends his entire set hunched behind his bewildering array of panels and keyboards, barely acknowledging the audience's presence. But this isn't standoffishness; rather, it's a personification of the age-old cliché of 'letting the music do the talking'. Vast, syncopated basslines set a thudding undertone, but Pantha Du Prince's real art is in the glitches, beeps and drones that form his melodies. It's techno in its most stripped-back form, but for all the minimalism it's a huge presence. So enraptured are the fans that they refuse to let him leave until he delivers not one but two encores; the latter of which, unfortunately, might have been an extravagance. The stop-start of the show's final act breaks the music's unerring flow, numbing its impact a little, but this is a tiny blemish on a dazzling performance.