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We can laugh about it now, but when [B]Eurobique[/B] finally gets his act together, we might have to take him seriously...

The German invasion has taken many forms, but this is the strangest yet. His name is Carsten Meyer and he is sucking nonchalantly on a McDonald’s Coke while his pre-programmed rhythms coax the crowd into mild states of euphoria. He is not particularly sexy and, to make matters slightly more uncomfortable, he is newly signed to that benchmark of early-’90s evil, Acid Jazz Records.

This is Carsten‘s first show in England as Eurobique and it would be nice to think that he came prepared. He didn’t: his new songs aren’t ready and so tonight he improvises a set of five tracks, hurriedly titled but oddly beguiling affairs called things like ‘Soul Song’ and ‘Acid Jazz Song’. We’ll name one ‘Cassius Song’, too, largely because it sounds like Cassius, but without the fashion hang-ups.

And he makes it all look so easy. Occasionally he’ll sprinkle his rubbery big beats with lounge piano tinkling, but generally he just introduces his instruments with the push of a button and a heavily-accented acknowledgement. “And now, techno percussion; now bassline; now singing,” he drones, sweetly.

Musically, he has little in common with his more cerebral compatriots – it’s more Money Mark – and shares only an ability to make antique synthesisers seem perpetually in vogue. We can laugh about it now, but when Eurobique finally gets his act together, we might have to take him seriously.