A GUY CALLED GERALD
HOT LEMONADE
Rham

MUCH is being made of Manchester's A Guy Called Gerald, largely as a result of his club success with the swanky House of ''Voodoo Ray". "Hot Lemonade", however, is far from satisfactory. It's hard to understand what all the fuss is about. It's extremely disappointing.

To be fair, there are moments and elements of interest. The bending bass and creamy sensitivity of "Music Sweet Muzic", the sardonic pop of the title track, the whimsical "Radio Active", some of the fizzier Acid bubbles and Brenda Petrie 's vocals pretty well rounds them up. These aside, "Hot Lemonade" is a half-evaporated brew of blinkered electro, few of the songs making any attempt to expand and subsequently capitalise upon the ideas with which they begin. With only a couple of exceptions, it's an exercise in monotony.

To prove the point, "Rhythm Is Rhythm", "Escape II", "Tranquillity Of Phobos" and others amount to nothing more than variations of New Order's "Confusion". And you don't need reminding what a god-awful somnambulistic slog that was.

***

[Reviewer: PUSH]

As inventive, albeit more rudimentary is A Guy Called Gerald's Hot Lemonade (pictured above) from Rham: lots of fizzing, super rapid dance tracks mixed with well sequenced moods - not Acid, but New Age House, capable of being listened to as foreground or background.

[Reviewer: JON SAVAGE]

A GUY CALLED GERALD
'Hot Lemonade'
(Rham RA1/CD)

A GUY called Police Academy. Sit down in front of the telly, can of rapidly warming lager in hand, the video rolls and this feeble film about American policemen is funny. High jinx, a real rib-tickler. Watch the film in full and enjoy the unmitigated bollocks to greatest effect.

Gerald Academy. Hook index finger under stylus arm and skip tracks. Five seconds apiece. Interesting. Very interesting. OK, interesting. Pretty decent album, you wager.

Sucker. This record is ten ideas, ranging from the exciting to the morosely dull, ten variations on a House theme.

The 'song' starts with a riff and a cheapo drum machine beat, and three or four minutes later it stops. The interim is as undulating and picturesque as Belgium.

The 'songs' are all verse, no chorus, and the concept of a middle eight is as realistic as the Republic Of Ireland making an appearance in the World Cup finals.

The exception is 'Hot Lemonade', which features a girly singer (the album being predominantly instrumental), which is all chorus. Urk! Maybe they're all choruses!

Gerald aspires to the Kraftwerk stratosphere, but never quite raises his head above the techno smog. He's as good a songwriter as I am a synchronised swimmer. Where's my noseclip? 

**

[Reviewer: ANDY HURT]

A GUY CALLED GERALD
'Hot Lemonade'
RHAM

The category-happy method of defining house music has done much for lazy journalists but very little to explain the directions the music's actually moving in. The fact is that the two most obvious types of house mirror almost perfectly the divisions between pop and rock. On the one hand there's the commercial side led by the singers, ie Paris Grey and much of what comes out of New York / New Jersey, and on the other the experimenters, led first by the early acidifiers and now by people like A Guy Called Gerald.

Gerald isn't a man to mince his attitudes. A few months ago, in a fit of anti-drugs pique, he declared he'd be laughing himself silly when all the people who were taking Ecstasy got Parkinson's disease (more rumour than medical fact). More recently he's been pooh-poohing the idea of taking music back to 'real' songs, preferring himself to go forward. This is the key to 'Hot Lemonade'. It doesn't pay lip-service to soul any more than the Sex Pistols acknowledged the Shadows.

It's not an easy record to listen to. 'Hot Lemonade', 'Rhythm Of Life' and 'Tranquility On Phobos' (the word love appears not once) show where things are going right, a gliding blend of the more obscure Detroit techno and Euro-techno. 'Radio Active' and 'In The Beginning' are more unsure, lacking a sense of involvement and as repetitive as bricks in a wall. It's a better idea than it is a record. But it is a good idea.

3 1/2

[Reviewer: Phil Cheeseman]

A GUY CALLED GERALD
Hot Lemonade
(Rham LP only)

THERE'S A tiny photo on the sleeve of 'Hot Lemonade' of a shock-haired eccentric wired up to one of his fantastic inventions. That's Gerald Simpson, A Guy Called Gerald, the crazed dub professor of Acid House.

Coming out of nowhere in midsummer, Gerald took his 'Voodoo Ray' EP from local fame in the Northern House capital of Manchester to international acclaim as one of the most inventive producers in a genre that lived by its originality. Gerald is one of those rare independent activists who has been infused with life by the cyclic rhythms of House music. His slogan - as stated on the sleeve is keep it abstract; technology is his religion - he worships at the altar of Japanese software and the electronic kickdrum is his prayer call.

Gerald's talent is the subtle dissection of-fine slivers of noise, taking a shard of computer impulse, shredding it, rearranging it, repeating it: a born experimenter.

The sound is purest Acid, someplace between Tangerine Dream and 'Popcorn', while the beats are more frenetic than a pinball machine on overdrive. The microchip simplicity of titles like 'Arcade Fantasy' or 'Radio Active' testify to a Kraftwerk influence but the shy brightness of Gerald's smile means he could never be an androgynous showroom dummy.

The joys of perversity are the obscure glories of A Guy Called Gerald and this, perhaps, is the Acid House album to melt down all others. Keep on keeping it abstract, Gerald.

(8)

[Reviewer: Matthew Collin]

A GUY CALLED GERALD
Hot Lemonade
(Rham RA001)

A highly produced, laregely instrumental album that echoes the sound of Chicago House in places. It's basically acidic in its orientation, but there is some diversity contained within that boundary.

'Escape II' uses the dynamics of a clean, understated (by UK standards) beat pattern and piles on the samples to create an angst-ridden soundscape; while 'Tranquility On Phobus' is pure Acid, with its percussive watery bells, wavy melody and the cruel way it slows down at the end. A sense of (Acid) humour, too. A Guy Called Gerald has a finesse that eludes many of his UK House contemporaries, which works sometimes - as it does with the rich sound of the title track - but at others degenerates into Ecstacy drivel - see 'K9' and 'Radio Active'.

Much of this material would benefit from a singer's touch that would move some of the tracks into more of a soul vein. As the world goes lysergic, what next - Acid Soul anyone?

[Reviewer: Nick Churchill]