The Crasher-kids are out in force in the Octagon tonight for this here leg of the Perfecto Tour; all tinsel and fairy-wings and big smiles. But this is a University tour for Oakenfold and his stable mates so the trance purists have to mix it with beer-swillin' students which ain't such a bad thing. In fact, this was what House was originally about, non? Bringing football- casuals, new agers, glamour queenies into a collective experience. Well, we're not quite getting back to the Halcyon days of '88 but if you live in Sheffield and you want to see Oakenfold then at least you can do it here without the fascistic dress-code that Gatecrasher imposes (I like me trainers for dancin' me!). There's a good buzz about the Octagon, but Oakenfold's support, the Dope Smugglaz are no great shakes: Lots of jumping, lots of energy but a serious lack of rapport with the 1,000 plus comfortably filling (but not packing out) the Octagon. But let's be honest, it's all about Oakenfold, innit? No fancy dancers, no blockbusting entrance for Oakey- no introduction, even. In fact, he was so unassuming for the first 15 minutes of the set, a bin-lid eyed reveller next to me said this was a fill-in DJ, playing an Oakenfold set, before the main man comes on. Then something happens: A sample of Tom Yorke's vocals start ghosting through the tranced-out House: "Faaayyd owwwt agaaaiiinnnn.." As the crowd responds in a cacophony of noise to this Radiohead interlude, Oakenfold's bonce appears on the two massive overhead Screens either side of him on the stage. The image fold, folds, folds again into a tunnelling mirror labyrinth. (Check Pink Floyd's 'Piper At The Gates Of Dawn' for reference). As the image fades away and the breakdown is left with nothing but Yorke's vocals to carry the music, the crowd is willing on that snare to roll up through their Adidas, on up through their spines and lift the eight-sided roof of this venue and into the cosmos. Of course it happens but there can't be many DJ's with Oakenfold's tantalising sense of timing and almost telepathic rapport with the crowd. Maybe it's got something to do with Oakey being one of the 1988 originators. Those Halcyon days (yawn!) ,when the DJ made do with Blackburn warehouses or Hampshire fields for venues. Nowadays, Oakenfold's more of a Rock'n'roll icon than an underground DJ but good luck to him, he certainly rocked the joint tonight.

Paul Whitson