Being pretentious never felt so good. If you’re seeking the snobbery of London clubs, such as pleading your case with bored bouncers and bleached blonde bimbos, the Minuscule of Sound is your place.

VIP passes didn’t make the trip over according to Kevin who was in charge of club operations. He says tipping works, standing in line works, but don’t give anything to the DJs. They have had enough already.

It’s hard enough to keep them focused on the job at hand, and any stimulants or even a randy wink may get them off their playlist. Not that they have a playlist, or a style, or some thing to hand their hat on. This place is just some plywood and old tiger-themed blankets.

Not that it isn’t fun. It is sort of. Depends upon who you go with. Or who you can get in with and if you can brave the line which can be longer than getting some of the excellent taco rice over in other areas of the festival.

In case you would want to just get a drink and chat at the bar, this is next to impossible as well. The poorly stocked bar to the side seems to have a top shelf of off-brand vodka and some fruit liquor. Rather just drink the mouthwash which is offered for free.

Well, if you can stomach all this, you might be treated to some good music inside.

On the night we attended, the “Ken Michael Brothers” were playing. Not to be confused with the electro duo that headlines major festivals like Glastonbury. Though this powerful DJ group (the famous one, not the spectacled fella in a tee shirt who makes a living on his clever moniker) have been spotted inside, apparently.

Minuscule of Sound is small enough to pop up anywhere. Well let’s hope it doesn’t show up in your town. For a few laffs, and maybe a little canoodling with a stranger, it could be the right place at the right time.

Tonight it was right. But we didn’t expect that, and you shouldn’t either.