- For nearly two decades, between 1966 and the start of the 1980s, Sundays at The Roundhouse were the things of legend. The venue for the capital's first ever all-night rave (incidentally also Pink Floyd's first official gig), Sundays at The Roundhouse went on to play host to The Who, Cream and countless other life-altering rock'n'roll experiences.
Fitting then that almost 40 years later, The Roundhouse should revisit a piece of its history and join forces with the city's most celebrated purveyor of Sunday-centric recreation secretsundaze, who were all set to carve out a slice of their own history in the shape of the first GoBang! festival. Taking over from The Roundhouse on night duty would be nearby neighbours the Proud Galleries, who would push the 14-hour music marathon into the early hours of bank holiday Monday.
Stepping into the cavernous main space mid-Sunday afternoon, there was definitely something rave-like about the way GoBang! was set-out. A more stripped back setting it would've been hard to imagine, with Secretsundaze's own potent speakers in fine company alongside the venue's towering stacks, combining to provide an output fit for a festival: robust and brilliantly clear. Motor City Drum Ensemble, back after a brief stint on the proverbial sidelines, was clearly enjoying putting the system through its paces, bringing it to life with cut after cut of warm, thumping soulful house.
Having only ever borne witness to his Boiler Room set, the mixing was surprisingly razor sharp, and clever, leaving the records to do most of the work. Moving from jazzier numbers into Julio Bashmore's "Au Seve," the crowd were enraptured, forcing a veritable sea of house-hands (you know the sort) to reach for the roof. Perhaps with follower Four Tet in mind, MCDE rapidly pushed things into more dusky territory, dropping The Other People Place's "Let Me Be Me" before closing with considerable aplomb on "Windowlicker" from Aphex Twin.
Four Tet took up the mantle with considerable grace, using a framework of tough, 303-infused techno from which to springboard towards more rugged, breakbeat affairs. At times however, some ill-judged transitions, coupled with the odd slice of colourless 4/4, made for a lull in energy, accentuated by the increasingly sparse, and thus disjointed, dance floor. Moments later however, normal service was to be resumed by way of some tampered-with Talking Heads and the MD X-Spress smash "God Made Me Funky."
In charge of bringing the day portion to a heady climax was a rare DJ set from sonic innovator Matthew Herbert. The veteran musician (at times, it must be said, slightly shoddily) cut and pasted his way through an eclectic collection of sounds and styles. Thick, mechanical techno rubbed shoulders with groovy, '90s house, which, as the end drew closer, rapidly transformed into a medley of upfront classics and rhythmic global cuts, ending with some raucous Caribbean bashment, conceivably Herbert's own homage to the carnival festivities setting West London alight across town. Modern icons and scene leaders they may, but Four Tet and Herbert paled in comparison to MCDE's captivatingly boisterous outing.
Positioned mere metres up the Chalk Farm Road, the segue from "Day" to "Night" party was painless. Even better, both Ben UFO and Levon Vincent had been allotted three hour sets, hosting the main room to Youandewan and Ethyl's room 2. As ever, Ben UFO proved a real pleasure to dance to. His dexterity behind the decks is incredibly refreshing and never once in 180 minutes was he not twisting or tweaking the mix. A re-edit of Moloko's "Sing It Back" brought exceptionally spirited waves of adulation from the crowd, bettered only by his dropping of the (still) utterly ubiquitous "Gabriel" by Peven Everett.
Unfortunately, venue wise, this was no Roundhouse and the sound in the main gallery did just about enough, without ever allowing for a truly memorable experience. As a result, Levon Vincent's amble to the finish line never really got off the ground. His style in particular requires full, uninterrupted submersion if the proper rewards are to be reaped. That said, a selection of Vincent's trademark basslines were so deliciously full-frontal that the crowd were regularly forced into action, sadly just never for prolonged, sustained periods. Secretsundaze have yet to throw a bad party, and though only a notion in its earliest infancy, they're still yet to throw a bad festival. For the hefty price tag however, the nocturnal session had to offer just that little bit more.