For the uninitiated, Fabric is an intimidating, vast, almost industrial warehouse of a club. With 24,000 square feet of space, yet rarely enough for dancing that isn't inhibited by overcrowding, its three floors play host to the biggest names in drum n bass, electro, house, and techno on a weekly basis.

It remains something of a puzzle then that the Chemical Brothers still refuse to play Room One at the Farringdon super club. What would surely be a perfect match has somehow failed to materialise, and one of the few electronic acts with enough sustained crossover appeal to do Fabric's largest room justice once again opted for the more intimate Room Two tonight. As an aesthetic choice, it may win the block-rocking duo some barely needed style points, but it’s hardly the most pragmatic of decisions.

Room Two offers the purest incarnation of the Fabric spirit; intense, sweaty and dark, its disorientating lights and lasers making it impossible to see further than a few feet. Never is it more 'all about the music' than in the Chemical Brother’s room of choice.  During a blistering and brilliantly mixed DJ set that included Chemical’s favourites Liaisons Dangereus and Shriekback's My Spine Is The Bassline, along with some interesting tracks that sounded promisingly like new Chemical Brothers material, the pair made an unqualified success of preaching to the converted. An apparently cliquey section of the sweaty, heaving throng that hung on every beat seemed blissfully unaware that dancing in any sort of personal space without being constantly pushed, man-handled or generally hassled and distracted was rarely an option. No one came here for a quiet night, but the chronic overcrowding in Room Two tonight tempered the euphoria that should naturally accompany a set as accomplished as this.

Those willing to brave the pushing and shoving to move around the labyrinthine club may have found some relief during a live set from Jackson & His Computer Band in the main room. 26-year-old Parisian Jackson Fourgeaud’s wonderfully eclectic blend of crowd-pleasing hooks, string-laden delight and both minimalist and hard-edged beats was possible to enjoy without the stress that accompanied the near-crush of Room Two. Few clubbers seemed concerned with the lack of intimacy afforded by the room’s size, or the chin-stroking few looking down from the elevated VIP balcony. If only someone had told the Chemical Brothers.

Text: James Hurley