- Gerald Donald makes his Mexico debut at Yu Yu.
- It was 3 AM and a self-declared "Drexciya fanboy" was giving me the lowdown on Arpanet, AKA Gerald Donald, AKA one half of Drexciya and Dopplereffekt. I was curious to learn how people first got into the aquatic electro of Drexciya, a project that ceased to be in 2002, when James Stinson, the other half of the duo, passed away. But it wasn't just Donald's many nom de guerres that lent a surreal quality to people's stories. Drexciya's sprawling Afrofuturist narrative was interwoven with groundbreaking music, conjuring alternative histories and fantastic futures through synthesizers. Arpanet is an impressive project in its own right, but it was clear that many people had come out to hear these classic sounds.
The atmosphere at Yu Yu seemed especially devoted last Saturday, which, in part, might have been because it was Arpanet's first performance in Mexico. When I entered the club, a woman working security placed an orange sticker over my phone camera, a move my friend remarked was a "Berghain thing." I went straight downstairs and found the crowd vibrating to rumbling techno, spun by DJ Unfollow (AKA AAAA) and Autobahn, who had already been building the vibe, back-to-back, for a few hours.
The heat was also starting to build, and it wasn't long until I needed to resurface for air. The club has expanded since opening 18 months ago. The basement is still small and intimate, but a wall has been torn down and the sound travels better. A new cocktail lounge has been built into the mezzanine, the kind of place that advertises upmarket mixology. I opted for the cheapest beer. The club also has a record store in a room beside the lounge, which opens during the day. Through the windows I could make out the unmistakable cover of Aphex Twin's Selected Ambient Works 85-92.
A blaring acid track seduced me back to the dance floor. At this point, it was past 3 AM and Arpanet was yet to appear, though the club was still filling up. Everyone was slick with sweat. People steadily poured in from their second or third event of the night. There were a good amount of regulars milling around, but I also met a few newbies, mostly out-of-towners from Europe and the States.
When he did appear, Arpanet was silhouetted by blue iTunes visualizer-style projections. Melodic techno played, though dancing in the crowd had subsided significantly an hour earlier. Some people had their eyes closed and heads down in focused listening. Weaving towards the front, I saw Arpanet in his trademark face mask. He hovered over a Korg Triton Le, his fingers flicking the controls almost imperceptibly. He wasn't mixing. Instead, each track played from a discrete beginning to a defined end. Sometimes, in the gaps between tracks, people applauded and whooped. Then, as suddenly as the performance began, Arpanet disappeared. As if in unison, everyone turned towards the exit.