At around lunchtime on the second day, one thing became abundantly clear that had previously been overlooked. The Miami Winter Music Conference has an unfortunate schedule that means it overlaps with the acne scarred posterior end of the American institution known as Spring Break. After an entire day of witnessing shirtless teenage school leavers on holidays from the Bronx, flex their mental muscle in masculinity competitions, obviously judged on who can talk the loudest and most obnoxiously, it was deemed best to seek refuge at the fourth annual Club World Awards taking place on the rooftop of club Nocturnal.

While the logic of replacing offensively loud inebriated teenagers with potentially louder (aided of course by a microphone) and equally intoxicated artists is at best questionable, there is nothing that HigherFrequency won't do for some choice photo opportunities. However, after countless in-jokes rocketing past overhead from the Scumfrog's mouth, the day's second epiphany occurred. Much like every other American event featuring the word "World" the Club World Awards were largely a pat on the back for the American industry. Although some blame must be rested on Higher Frequency's shoulders as perhaps it should have been noted earlier the order in which the words "Club" and "World" appeared in the event's title. America-centric shenanigans aside, the night did offer the chance to see New York legend Danny Tenaglia bestow an award to similarly renowned Francois Kevorkian for his residency at Deep Space, New York.

Back over the bridge at Miami Beach's Shelborne Hotel a large group of SAW Recordings fanatics was amassing. The label run by adopted New Yorker Satoshi Tomiie this year celebrated its 5th Anniversary and enlisted the help of Hector Romero, Audiofly X, and Lexicon Avenue to celebrate in style. To say the venue was full would be like saying that Mother Theresa was best known for doing the occasional good deed. There was almost no room to move inside and two massive lines, one for entry and the other for re-entry, snaked around the corridor outside with a single bouncer at wits end controlling the madness. The worst part of the situation was that inside there was actually no toilet. This meant that partygoers were left with two choices, a) exit the club and line up for re-entry with an empty bladder, or b) continue to dance with sharp pains gradually migrating from one's bladder to one's kidneys. What obviously made the choice so difficult for most was the dirty brand of progressive house the Audiofly boys were banging out. The music seemed so in tune with what the people wanted that it even induced one clubber into some form of coma that had him convinced he was at a 1980's rave, as he swung glowsticks around with reckless abandon. It was evident that SAW has a serious fan base in the States.