The evening that saw the debut of Miss Kittin and the Hacker at The Chinese Laundry was a chilly one – so at the beginning it was more ‘brrrrrr’ than ‘prrrrr’. But the incredible turn-out soon quashed any fears of a frosty experience – the only cold ones in attendance were the bevvies being gulped besides the heaving bar.

Thanks to ITM for the reviewer privileges, which meant that my partner in crime and I could bypass the long queue outside the Laundry. However, these privileges couldn’t secure a place for my coat in the cloakroom, which was completely full just after midnight!

We started inching our way through the main bar, where The Jackal and Tim Boffa were setting the scene with some deep, driving house music. I was slightly confused about the house/breaks lineup on a night where Miss Kittin was the main act, but then I remembered that variety is what Good Vibrations on a Saturday night is all about.

We popped our heads into the Cave, where Phil Smart and Sugar Ray were cutting it up with characteristic tech-house style. The atmosphere of excitement slid up a notch when they dropped track of the moment ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. Then came a track or two that sounded a bit trancey – although this may just have been a tongue-in-cheek scare tactic for the die-hard electro punters out there.

We decided to escape the claustrophobia of the Cave for a moment, and slipped inn to the Sand Bar upstairs, where there was a pleasant conglomeration of hip-hop, funk, and dance classics being played (think Dee-lite, House of Pain…)

Half an hour before Miss Kittin was due to come on, we started the trek back into the Cave. We just got in before a bouncer blocked off the entrance to the Cave, standing in front of a congested corridor of people who weren’t allowed (couldn’t fit) into the room. There was absolutely no space to dance, and people seemed to have an apologetic look permanently fixed to their faces, as every move they made invariably involved stepping on the feet of others, or elbowing them somewhere.

However, people were distracted from their discomfort when the lady who is perhaps best known as the vocalist for Felix Da Housecat’s ‘Silver Screen’ made her presence known. Applause rang out at the first sound of her trademark sultry French-accented tones. She started out with some ambient, toe-tapping electro, reminiscent of the beginning of her recent release, Radio Caroline (Mental Groove Records). The Kittin & Hacker partnership, which has been so successful on their many production collaborations, was in fine form – with Kittin producing live vocals on top of her mixing, whilst The Hacker plied a synthesizer next to her. About halfway through their set, The Hacker stepped back to allow Miss Kittin to do her own DJ set.

What was perhaps most interesting about Miss Kittin’s set was that she didn’t so much mix, as create soundscapes between tracks, reminding me why I love electro! And she showed an appreciation for musique concrete (Pierre Schaeffer’s concept that a sound by itself is noise, whereas a sound that is repeated is music) when she dropped a track consisting mostly of a male’s laughter, the rhythm of which changed throughout the song.

But perhaps the biggest surprise of all came at the end, when Miss Kittin removed her wig! Punters tried to keep the look of surprise off their faces as Miss Kittin went from a small, well-built pretty girl with long straight hair and a fringe, to a stronger-looking chick with a crew cut.

Both Miss Kittin and the Hacker were being decidedly un-French though, by actually connecting with the audience! Kittin was signing a whole stack of autographs whilst mixing (and smoking at the same time!), whilst the Hacker was happy to talk to me about their perspective on the night.

‘We’re really pleased with the turn-out, although it was difficult to do our live set in such a small space.’ He was very polite about the slight glitch in the sound system, and we both agreed that they would have to perform in a bigger venue next time- there’s obviously such a demand for their sound at the moment.

Miss Kittin and the Hacker showed that there is ‘electro’ without the ‘clash’, and without the oft-used crutch of the 80s. Her brand of electro is multi-layered, subtly understated, but ultimately rhythmic and exciting.

In the words of one of Kittin’s fans, from her website: ‘C’est une icone electro glamour tres demandee.’