Tonight, label boss [B]Richard D James[/B] [B]Aphex Twin[/B] to most isn't in the mood, so he puts on an album of abrasive droning and then wanders off. Two hundred people huddle around the emp
They do things differently at Rephlex. If you prefer your DJs to, you know, play records in the conventional sense then you’ve come to the wrong place. Tonight, label boss Richard D James – Aphex Twin to most – isn’t in the mood, so he puts on an album of abrasive droning and then wanders off. Two hundred people huddle around the empty decks and wait. And wait. He returns, flips the LP over and disappears again. Genius – probably.
Downstairs, there’s more luck with [a]Ovuca[/a], Rephlex’s recent Finnish recruit, whose drum-heavy braindance (that’s ‘Phlex speak for, erm, maximum rave action) so invigorates the Lapland longhair that he’s told to stop dancing to his own set by a security man. Next, the shaven-headed Cylob sets out to relearn the old-skool method by way of his vocoder-addled anthem ‘Rewind’, but finds most success with retro fare like ‘Living In The ’80s’ and, oh yes, ‘Sex Machine’.
The bouncers steer clear of DMX Krew‘s limb-flailing antics, but not even they could fault his klaxon-enhanced Miami boogaloo. More civilised thrills occur with Rome’s D’Arcangelo pair, who sit in front of computers fashioning sleek rave missives like ‘Tunemx II’, while Bogdan Raczynski, Rephlex’s Polish star, closes proceedings with a brutal demonstration of how not to use a laptop.
Some call it rave, others techno. Rephlex call it braindance and frankly, after seven hours of the stuff, you can call it what you like.