Seekae is a Sydney gem. A diamond, a ruby... Look, take your pick of expensive stone, and come up with your own appraising metaphor. Their ability to develop introspective narratives from warped electronica throws them into an alternate universe, as their contemporaries gaze from afar.

This was a landmark show for the group. Selling out The Metro (Yes, Branson, The Metro) is no easy task. In a few years, the three Sydney producers that make up the ‘band’ have built a solid legion of followers and avoided leaving themselves vulnerable to the kinds of criticisms such FBi babies can often yield when excelling in the tall poppy field that is our city.

Seekae is not an overnight success. Having released their debut album, The Sound of Trees Falling On People, in 2010 to critical acclaim, they are in the Spring of their year and appear to posses a biting creative work ethic. They champion glitchy, instrumental hip hop: lush productions filled with samples from the kitchen to the countryside. But you’d be wrong to slam them in jumping on a bandwagon for the said genre. If anything, Seekae helped build the wagon locally. And few would dare question their musicality after witnessing the force of George Nicholas’ drumming prowess - a defining draw card in this live experience. On listening to their sophomore album, +Dome, a friend explained how he was inexplicably driven to paint on canvas. Such is the effect of their music.

However, Saturday night’s performance was a bipolar affair. It teetered between the sublime ("Gnor", "Blood Bank", "Centaur") and the frustratingly inert, rendering the set somewhat disjointed and lacking in momentum. This was aggravated by a rowdy crowd who used the more subdued tracks to discuss the state of hip-hop, and whether the GoodGod canteen would still be open after the show. It was an unconvincing display by the group, which leads us to the question of whether Seekae is in need of a live renovation if they are to continue at the same pace.

It would be cruel to chastise the lads for technical difficulties out of their hands, which ground the show to a halt more than once. Seekae have never been known to run riot on stage, and no one is asking that of them. Only months ago they obliterated Mount Kimbie as their support at Oxford Art Factory with a very similar show. It’s just that this humble, introverted presence - seen as humility in smaller venues - forged itself as insecurity in this larger space.

You wanted to give them a hug, but truth be told, they could have stood there, sneezing into the microphone for ten minutes, to scores of rapturous applause. Sydney adores them, and judging by the success of their recent European tour, so too does the rest of the world.

The message here is not to Seekae, but to you, dear fan. Have you bought +Dome? Actually bought it? With real money? If not, do it. Now.

Have you shared their music? With everyone you know? On Facebook/Twitter/ICQ/in amongst the washed-out art you post on Tumblr? If not, do it. Now.

Has dropping their name into conversation allowed you to appear ever-so-slightly more cultured than you are, and consequently allowed you to get your mack on with strangers you otherwise would have never had a chance with?

Buy yourself a hoodie (...no rush).

This was by no means a perfect show, nor was it their best. But as we watch another venue close in Sydney, and witness this place take another step towards becoming Australia’s black hole of music, let us bind together and support those like Seekae, who are bold enough to exert persistence through the turbulence, and push a boundary or two at the same time. That a band only lightly spruiked by the 'Js can reach this level of popularity is enough cause for congratulations.

Their psychological development as a collective - or at least its portrayal - needs to catch up with that of their craftsmanship, but there’s plenty we can do to aid them. Maybe then, the members of Seekae will be able to see themselves as the modern pioneers they truly are. Everybody wins.