From Mixmag,  November 1994, Vol 2 Issue 42:

"808 State, Megadog, The Academy Manchester"

[stuff deleted]

...Graham Massey popped up amongst them, more to cool his pre-gig nerves
with a can of Red Stripe than anything else.  "It's been a year since we played
live at that Olympic Bid thing, so I'm pretty nervous," he said, "but I like
Megadog, I come each time it's on, it's a good vibe."
	Support acts Spooky and Pentatonik came and went with predictable
ambient/trance sets straight from Traveller FM. Around 12:15 am, after a
downright shit-scary intro, 808 breezed onto stage. The crowd surged forward
leaving the bar empty (except for delegates), and while photographers jostled
for position at the front of the stage, Darren Partington casually ambied up and
thundered: "Manchester! C'mon! Let's fucking have it!"
	808 ripped into their set which included seven new tracks from the
forthcoming, as yet unnamed, album. With heat seeking, heavy duty, explosive
sounds, 808 ruthlessle plundered human energy reserves, wreaking communal havoc.
Three fortified units of musical equipment, three individual controllers - one
major impact and mass treatment needed for whiplash.
	Kinetic in every sense, Darren took any available opportunity to jump
around the stage, mic-ed up, goading the crowd. Graham Massey made occasional
forays to the front clutching an array of musical instruments (guitar, violin,
soprano sax, mouth organ), looking like a busker and sounding like a rock star.
While Andy Barker stayed steadfast behind his Roland fortress, hardly visible,
impervious to the commotion he was contributing to, the coolest man in the
building.
	'Pacific' and 'Cubik' made the set, (how could the be left out?), and
predictably got the loudest cheer. But it was the new tracks which provided the
fire and spice. 'Cajun' had 808 lead a full-frontal bass assault assisted by
savage samples; 'Dubby' was a bongo, spliff-head extravaganze; while 'Insane
Lover' packed more stock and flavour than Glen Close and a rabbit ever could.
	Show over. Come-down time in the subdued atmosphere of the dressing
room. The lads looked shagged, but you could tell they were buzzing. As record
label big-wigs queued up to shake their hands[?! who?], there was knowing glint
in their eyes. 808 had proved they could still cut it on stage and that their
new material kicks.
	And despite having just spent 55 minutes sweating it out on stage,
Darren went to change a flat tyre on the van, returning 15 minutes later even
more drenched, covered in shit and mouthing expletives. Obviously 808 State
still know how to jack.