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You may think you know Theo Keating. But you don't. Try and pin the man down
to one particular genre and you'll fail more miserably than Tony Soprano on a Tuesday morning comedown. Don't try and pigeonhole the man. Theo - or DJ
Touché as he's more commonly known - makes music. It may be hip hop. It might
be house. It could be tribal beats with a touch of afro-percussion. It could
even be all three on the same slab of vinyl. But it's never, ever predictable.
"I make songs," says Theo, just back from another mid-week spin at Centro Fly in New York City. "People either like them or don't. It's fun to play with people's ideas of who you are and what you're allowed to do."
Still only 30 years old, Theo Keating revels in these contradictions. In the last six months, he's left his roots behind to concentrate on fresh new beats. Which is why, as well as recording a vicious house cut for Heat called 'Gimme My Money' ("a bit of a stomper!" he smiles), he's signed a four single deal with New Jersey house imprint Subliminal. "Erick liked some of my material and wanted to put them out," says Theo. "He didn't have any preconceptions, which was incredibly refreshing." Which is just as it should be. Because both 'Good Looking' and 'Tangerine' are a testament to his production skills, a joyous mesh of nifty glitterball funk and luxurious disco samples. "I've always loved house and I've always played it in my sets," he nods. "So let people find out! The capacity of the human brain allows us to like more than one thing simultaneously."
Blame his upbringing. A vinyl junkie for as long as he can remember, young Theo became engrossed in hip-hop culture at the tender age of twelve. "This led to a fascination with scratching and DJing in general," he remembers. "I decided I wanted to try my hand at it at the age of sixteen." The year? 1988, when a simultaneous curiosity with old funk and breaks records led to his first experience with pause-button loops - "the training ground for many a budding producer!"
It was time well-spent. In 1990, Theo released Direct Current MC's 'Keep In Step' EP, which he co-produced. Keating was 18 at the time. "It was a self-financed white that we put in a few Soho shops on a sale or return deal. It sold about 600 copies - but it got reviewed in Echoes!" Two years later he returned with Disco Elements Vol.1 ("Running") and Disco Elements Vol.2 ("I Need It More"), both co-productions on Azuli. "They were house EPs based around disco samples," he chuckles, nearly ten years on. "Classics, mate!"
The Wiseguys weren't far behind. Two albums for Wall Of Sound - 'Executive Suite' and 'The Antidote' - both mined a rich musical seam. A string of killer singles conveniently accompanied them, including 'Ooh La La,' 'Start The Commotion' and the Sanchez-favoured 'Cowboy 78.' All proved to be serious Club smashes, particularly for Adidas-clad ravers at sweatboxes like The Big Beat Boutique in Brighton. As anthemic as they were energetic, these twelves were more than mere vinyl - they were a manifesto for party people to shake their booty. Hard. Looking back, it's not unfair to suggest that he helped define an era of late-nineties clubland. "It was a laugh," he nods. "The birth of it was about not being restricted to one style so it was quality music all the way. People were enjoying themselves themselves and the DJ felt a part of that."
A self-confessed b-boy, Theo's musical and cinematic idols speak volumes about his attitude to The Bigger Picture. Versatility? You got it. David Axelrod, Charles Stepney, James Brown, Pete Rock, Todd Terry, DJ Premier, Daft Punk, A Tribe Called Quest, Carl Craig and evil bald Bond idol Blowfelt reveal a penchant for wide-eyed adventurers the world over. His cinematic choices reveal a similar passion. Stanley Kubrick, Brian DePalma, Francis Ford Coppola, David Fincher, George Lucas, Martin Scorcese. And we haven't even started on his favourite movies yet. Is having a good time as important as making records, we wonder? "Absolutely," he concurs. "There's no point otherwise."
It's all about widescreen ambition, see. The past few summers have seen a series of riotous DJ gigs alongside some of the finest DJs on the scene. Continuing his residency with The Boutique at Fabric and Brighton, Theo's summer culminated with a seaside spin session at The Corn Exchange with a DJ called Norman Cook. You may have heard of him. "That was great fun,' he smiles. "I ended my set with Bizarre Inc's 'Playing With Knives!' Theo nods approvingly. It reminds him of a similar scene in Australia four years before. "Bondi Beach had an incredible atmosphere that year," he says. "It opened my eyes to What DJing could be. Manumission the same year too: several trips, culminating in a one-for-one with Norman at the closing party. What a fucking season!" Silly season, more like. On a manic trip to Tokyo twelve months later, Theo and Jacques Lu Cont induced a mass stage invasion by 800 local house-heads. Now THAT'S what I call music.
You could blame That Record. The result of a well-timed Bud commercial with some oversized green frogs, 'Ooh la La' became a runaway smash in the summer of 1998, selling well over a quarter of a million copies in the UK alone. But the story doesn't end there. Thanks to some well-timed soundbed placements stateside -Mitsubishi jumped on 'Start The Commotion' for one - 'Start' went Top Ten on the Hot 100 Radio Chart, garnering over 1500 spins a week. Not bad for a track that Theo made in three days. "I was an accidental pop success," he shrugs, still slightly incredulous. "If you're in a pop band, and don't attain those heights, it's a disappointment but because I came out of the club world, it was an amazing experience. I felt like a tourist but it was brilliant."
In fact, 'The Antidote' is still shifting serious unit stateside now. Last time we looked, its sales were fast-approaching 200,000. "It's great to succeed in the States for obvious reasons," he shrugs. "It's a notoriously hard market to crack - and to fathom - a lot of the time. But success at home, and the respect of my peers is much more important. Without that, any overseas victory would feel a little hollow." As Touché, then, the adventures in hi-fi are just beginning. The Wiseguys, however, are most definitely a thing of the past. Dead and buried. No more. "Six feet under!" he hollers. "That was just one chapter: 1994-2001."
Ralph Moore, 26th Feb. 2002
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