Photo credit - Brad Li Virdis
We were asked to do a piece on GDC’s show at the Rescue Rooms in Nottingham and I said yes, mainly because having stage managed them a few times at festivals, I wanted to see what they looked like from the front!
On a wet Wednesday in February, the band had managed to pack them in (like sardines to be honest). A melange of students, older dub heads and a few of the reggae-curious to check out a band that picks up fans wherever they perform. Having been on the touring circuit for over a decade, they are a slick, well honed band that obviously have a real love and knowledge of contemporary dub sounds with a nod to contemporaries like Fat Freddy’s Drop and Mungos Hifi. The main surprise for me was hearing the crowd sing along raucously to the band’s songs from the off, something I never noticed in the wings at the festivals, this is their crowd. It was the only real time I could really hear the words as the soundman, despite having a solid sound for the band, never quite managed to bring lead singer (and onstage livewire) Jonathan Scratchley’s vocals clearly to the front which was a shame. However, let’s not quibble about venue and tech issues, the Dub Club did their job with verve and power. Dressed for a shootout at a wedding, they moved smoothly between pumping steppers to slower roots styles and a sudden burst of junglist force (with guest MC) which lifted the roof off towards the end. The band clearly realised that the over-packed crowd weren’t going to be able to give full expression to their grooves so with a little encouragement the dub-pogo would suffice as they niced up the dance.
Reggae and dub transcended its Jamaican heartland many years ago with practitioners of quality across the globe and even though GDC don’t quite command the backyard authenticity of a Sugar Minott or Horace Andy, they are good enough to be signed to Easy Star and to support The Wailers, which is no mean feat for a bunch of white ex-students who met at a dub night in Leeds! The rhythm section is killer, the horns on point, the remaining players understanding perfectly that less is more and with Scratchley running the show like a whip-like P. T. Barnum, Gentlemen’s Dub Club are a formidable outfit.
Towards the end of the show, I popped to the loo and heard a beautiful male voice singing a Lover’s Rock tune (which I’ve forgotten now). As I came out of the cubicle a mobile phone was left on the sink. I grabbed it to take to the bar when a young Jamaican guy came back looking stressed. With a grateful hug and a rum & coke as a thank you, we ended the night with those communal vibes that reggae inspires. Not bad for a Wednesday….
Words - Justin Turford
