Colin McBean
After years of touring and studio work with Cisco Ferreira as pioneering techno outfit The Advent, Colin McBean is striking out on his own with a raw house sound.
Colin McBean spent five years with Cisco Ferreira as The Advent, running one of the best live PAs on the techno circuit. But when the mental and physical pressure of constant touring became too much to bear, a return to his roots beckoned. "People were always talking saying Cisco was the boy and Colin wasn’t doing much..." he recounts without acrimony. But with Cisco fulfilling the role of the duo’s engineer, Colin began to feel discounted as the lesser half of the partnership, a public perception fortified by his unrestrained dancing activities that would always please the crowds at their shows. "There came a point where you’d go to places and they’d say ‘your dancer was wicked mate,’ and I’d be like ‘what?’ I did tweak things on stage, do you know what I’m saying?"
And so it was that a period of studio confinement followed. Cisco continued apace with The Advent while Colin, who'd already begun to forge a more house-orientated sound under the guise of Mr G, began a process of technical familiarisation and taking stock of previous influences. "First and foremost my love was going to second-hand record shops and finding old records, before I was a producer," he comments. "Can you imagine all those years later, those records are your library of sound, your knowledge. ‘Let’s try a bit of Salsa today’ – you pull out a bit of Salsa and you think ‘that’s interesting’ and you take inspiration from that."
Growing up in Derby, UK, he spent time living in Manchester, Paris and Germany before settling in London back in 1982. Always the avid vinyl junkie ("I’ve got 32,000 records – I’m the world’s greatest blagger of getting records"), he worked as a trained chef and then a fashion designer for the likes of Stussy and Betty Jackson before finally finding his way with music production. It was time spent with a Derby-based reggae sound system during his formative years that ingrained his musical consciousness with a potent dose of swing, soul and bottom end. "I come from a family where we’d listen to Jim Reeves and all that nonsense," he elaborates. "Reggae is where the roots came from. My job was to lift the speakers in and out of the van, so I used to sit on the floor as a kid and there’d be thumping bass, that was me. As I became older I was the selector, the guy choosing the records, then DJ, and it was like ‘okay I’ve had enough of reggae, lets find something else’. I realised my love was with analogue, so I moved from there into things like Cabaret Voltaire, Bauhaus, Human League all those kind of things, then to house, techno. That’s how I met Cisco."
Though he’s avoided the press since the split two years ago, Mr G is speedily acquiring his own section in record boxes the world over, from Richie Hawtin and Carl Cox to Danny Rampling and Tall Paul. "I had a lot to live up to production-wise," Colin admits. So, what happened when, after five years of turning up the heat in techno clubs, he became reacquainted with his love of bassy, soulful music? One thing’s for sure — the tempo came down a few notches. Recently reaching double figures, his Phoenix G imprint has indubitably helped blur the line further between house and techno. It would be easy to draw parallels with the Advent sound – the sense of flow, the hypnotic percussion changes, the intense waves of hi-hats that lock you in to the groove. Yet Mr G’s sound is now very much his own; a tough yet soulful vibe that’s seen his music cross over from the murky belly of the underground, earning remix requests from luminaries such as Bob Sinclair and Roger Sanchez. "It’s that dirty mid-ground. It’s twisted and funky, bass-heavy but accessible," he tells. "I’m a reggae boy; it’s not about the clarity, it’s about a low bottom-end swing — something that makes the girls jump up and down. If it’s got a dirty end I’m happy with it."
The past twelve months have found him recording for Mr C’s End Recordings, Carl Cox’s In-Tec, Mike Grant’s Moods & Grooves, Marco Lenzi’s Molecular and even Tall Paul’s Duty Free. "I give everybody the sound I hear. Mr C’s EP it’s how I hear C play. I know that every track I give him he can play in his set. Tall Paul is either tribal or more progressive. Mike Grant’s remix is real American soul." With his reggae-tinged alter ego, Mango Boy, doing damage in the clubs and a double-pack release imminent for London dance giant Defected, there’s been plenty of call to get Colin (a self-professed ‘ex’-clubber) back out on the circuit. Not something he’s keen to pursue in the short term: "My hearing at the end of The Advent was almost shot and it’s just perfect now – no warbles, no tinitus — and no backache, no lack of sleep. I’ve got some prime moments, some wonderful moments, but I’m not in a hurry to go back there."
When he does decide to take Mr G on the road it’ll be, like his erstwhile partner, performing live ("When I go live believe me, I’m going to drop bombs on heads"). But surely there’s going to be calls to get this veteran selector back behind the decks too? Just where is his spinning style at these days? "I ain’t got no style," he pipes, "that’s why when I DJ it's really interesting. I still love and buy soulful house, proper soulful house. Some people might call it dead leg smoky, grooving house. In the same way I still like my tech stuff — I still like my electro, I still like my minimal — I just tend to put it all in the pot and see what comes out." Any other thoughts on what makes a good DJ, then? "Not just faster, faster, faster – it’s too easy," Colin replies. "Like when you’re having sex, you don’t do it in the same way every time. The orgasm is sometimes early, sometimes late, that’s how you peak when you’re DJing. Sometimes you want to peak in the middle of your set, sometimes at the end, sometimes at the start. Sometimes you peak early and have to build it up again. You get these DJs that come on and they play all the hits in the first 45 minutes, whereas a good DJ takes it back, starts again."
With in excess of ten releases ready to hit the shelves, there desn't seem to be much lacking in Mr G’s fertility department. "I’m enjoying it," he smiles, "I’ve never had so much fun in my life."
And so it was that a period of studio confinement followed. Cisco continued apace with The Advent while Colin, who'd already begun to forge a more house-orientated sound under the guise of Mr G, began a process of technical familiarisation and taking stock of previous influences. "First and foremost my love was going to second-hand record shops and finding old records, before I was a producer," he comments. "Can you imagine all those years later, those records are your library of sound, your knowledge. ‘Let’s try a bit of Salsa today’ – you pull out a bit of Salsa and you think ‘that’s interesting’ and you take inspiration from that."
Growing up in Derby, UK, he spent time living in Manchester, Paris and Germany before settling in London back in 1982. Always the avid vinyl junkie ("I’ve got 32,000 records – I’m the world’s greatest blagger of getting records"), he worked as a trained chef and then a fashion designer for the likes of Stussy and Betty Jackson before finally finding his way with music production. It was time spent with a Derby-based reggae sound system during his formative years that ingrained his musical consciousness with a potent dose of swing, soul and bottom end. "I come from a family where we’d listen to Jim Reeves and all that nonsense," he elaborates. "Reggae is where the roots came from. My job was to lift the speakers in and out of the van, so I used to sit on the floor as a kid and there’d be thumping bass, that was me. As I became older I was the selector, the guy choosing the records, then DJ, and it was like ‘okay I’ve had enough of reggae, lets find something else’. I realised my love was with analogue, so I moved from there into things like Cabaret Voltaire, Bauhaus, Human League all those kind of things, then to house, techno. That’s how I met Cisco."
Though he’s avoided the press since the split two years ago, Mr G is speedily acquiring his own section in record boxes the world over, from Richie Hawtin and Carl Cox to Danny Rampling and Tall Paul. "I had a lot to live up to production-wise," Colin admits. So, what happened when, after five years of turning up the heat in techno clubs, he became reacquainted with his love of bassy, soulful music? One thing’s for sure — the tempo came down a few notches. Recently reaching double figures, his Phoenix G imprint has indubitably helped blur the line further between house and techno. It would be easy to draw parallels with the Advent sound – the sense of flow, the hypnotic percussion changes, the intense waves of hi-hats that lock you in to the groove. Yet Mr G’s sound is now very much his own; a tough yet soulful vibe that’s seen his music cross over from the murky belly of the underground, earning remix requests from luminaries such as Bob Sinclair and Roger Sanchez. "It’s that dirty mid-ground. It’s twisted and funky, bass-heavy but accessible," he tells. "I’m a reggae boy; it’s not about the clarity, it’s about a low bottom-end swing — something that makes the girls jump up and down. If it’s got a dirty end I’m happy with it."
The past twelve months have found him recording for Mr C’s End Recordings, Carl Cox’s In-Tec, Mike Grant’s Moods & Grooves, Marco Lenzi’s Molecular and even Tall Paul’s Duty Free. "I give everybody the sound I hear. Mr C’s EP it’s how I hear C play. I know that every track I give him he can play in his set. Tall Paul is either tribal or more progressive. Mike Grant’s remix is real American soul." With his reggae-tinged alter ego, Mango Boy, doing damage in the clubs and a double-pack release imminent for London dance giant Defected, there’s been plenty of call to get Colin (a self-professed ‘ex’-clubber) back out on the circuit. Not something he’s keen to pursue in the short term: "My hearing at the end of The Advent was almost shot and it’s just perfect now – no warbles, no tinitus — and no backache, no lack of sleep. I’ve got some prime moments, some wonderful moments, but I’m not in a hurry to go back there."
When he does decide to take Mr G on the road it’ll be, like his erstwhile partner, performing live ("When I go live believe me, I’m going to drop bombs on heads"). But surely there’s going to be calls to get this veteran selector back behind the decks too? Just where is his spinning style at these days? "I ain’t got no style," he pipes, "that’s why when I DJ it's really interesting. I still love and buy soulful house, proper soulful house. Some people might call it dead leg smoky, grooving house. In the same way I still like my tech stuff — I still like my electro, I still like my minimal — I just tend to put it all in the pot and see what comes out." Any other thoughts on what makes a good DJ, then? "Not just faster, faster, faster – it’s too easy," Colin replies. "Like when you’re having sex, you don’t do it in the same way every time. The orgasm is sometimes early, sometimes late, that’s how you peak when you’re DJing. Sometimes you want to peak in the middle of your set, sometimes at the end, sometimes at the start. Sometimes you peak early and have to build it up again. You get these DJs that come on and they play all the hits in the first 45 minutes, whereas a good DJ takes it back, starts again."
With in excess of ten releases ready to hit the shelves, there desn't seem to be much lacking in Mr G’s fertility department. "I’m enjoying it," he smiles, "I’ve never had so much fun in my life."
