Have you heard the one about Erol Alkan? The humble 12 year old maestro-in-the-making who sneaks out the window of his parents flat to play gigs for a tenner? About the bearded studio-sorcerer worshipped by bands and DJ’s half his age as a living electronic idol? About the kid in his early 20s who’s founded that Trash night in London where they’re playing Bowie and basslines at the same time?

I heard that he invented the mash-up. I heard that he created the second coming of French Touch just by remixing Justice’s "Waters Of Nazareth". I heard he bought guitar music back from the grave. No, it was electronic music. Or was it reggae? I heard he once revived a Roland 303 just by looking at it. Didn’t you hear? He’s bringing psychedelia back? Wait – I heard he’s bringing Disco back? Didn’t you hear?

That’s the thing about Erol Alkan – hearing is believing. Until you’ve borne witness to one of his legendary live sets, poured headily over one of his meticulously crafted productions, or been catapulted to a sudden sonic nirvana by the dropping of one of his
remixes, you might be justified for dismissing his existence as an extremely elaborate myth of the musical underground. After all, how can one man, still in his early thirties, have kept so many kids dancing for so long?