Gerber Bowie

Gerber comes to Story this week.

Photo Courtesy of the Artist

Guy Gerber was in his friend’s underground studio in Toronto when we tracked him down. He could have been on South Beach with one of those margaritas with the upside down Corona in them, but he's the kind of guy who prefers a cavernous recording studio.

The place looks like a panic room with lots of knobs and wires. And it’s Gerber’s favorite place in the world to make music, he says. The secret layer of beats is a long way from his hometown of Holon, Israel, a city just outside of Tel Aviv. As a young musician, Gerber said a lot of dance music was coming out of Israel’s second-largest city, but he preferred to be apart from trends and influence. In Holon, he developed his own sound — his own style.

Like cutting the crust off a sandwich, Gerber enjoys spending his time crafting the meat of a track — “the good stuff, ” as he says.

“I like making music that has more essence and isn’t a tool, per se. A club track is a tool with a proper intro, middle, and ending. It has to have the proper beginning and ending so other DJs can work with it. I want something that will stand the test of time. Actually right now, though, I’m working on some club bombs, which I don’t always do. I’m remixing Matthew Dear’s 'Mouth to Mouth, ' and I’m going to make sure it’s pumping.”

Perhaps Gerber will have the Dear remix ready for his return to Story on November 28. On this night, the South Beach megaclub takes on its “Underground Story” persona, which has become a bat signal of sorts for Miami's dance-music purists, whom Gerber has nothing but respect for.

“There is a big connection for me and the underground electronic music fans in America. I think it is natural for people in America to like rock or hip-hop, but for the dance-music fans, they have to work harder, and I respect this.”

Gerber remembers when dance music didn't sell tickets in the States. At one of his first Miami gigs in the '90s, he and friends had to wait for a hip-hop dance battle to finish before he was allowed to start playing. Around 6 a.m., he put the needle down, and the dance floor cleared. An hour later, a small crowd had returned, and two hours later, there were about 200 people on floor.

Gerber at his friend's underground studio in Toronto.

Miami would eventually catch on, and 200 would become 2, 000. Since, Gerber has played damned near every joint in this town. He has particularly fond memories of a 2007 Sunday-night gig at the late great Miami club Pawn Shop.