|The Brain Club, London, England
16th June 1990
A GUY CALLED GERALD
THE BRAIN is a smart place to be. You can sit downstairs, where the music is low enough to hear yourself talking crap, or upstairs where young things in Koshino stand next to old lags in Adidas and seriously let their hair down.
Coming on at one o'clock in the morning is probably the perfect time for A Guy Called Gerald to play, when everyone is so relaxed and willing. Enveloped by about 50 serious dancers, it's hard to believe all he's using is a twin deck and a small keyboard. It's amazing what he can pull off with so little gear for company and a bloke dancing well weird right in front of him.
Without a singer, AGCG bypasses the obvious tracks like 'Voodoo Ray' and concentrates on locking right into the groove of the club. As he finds his touch he increases the pace, stopping and starting the tracks, jerking the crowd in knots, and they love him all the more for it. He knows what they want and is happy to provide it, stripping down his sound to suit the London House scene.
[Reviewer: Simon Dudfield]