I first meet Med Damon outside the Eleven Gallery for the Natasha Law exhibition on a particularly ugly section of Charing Cross Road. It turns out we’re both a little confused as to where the gallery actually is – 121 Charing Cross, the address given, actually appears to be a book shop.

Polite conversation ensues. Med, it seems, is already disappointed in the choice of artist – “How come you guys chose Natasha Law?” he says almost immediately. Well, it isn’t just because she’s Jude Law’s sister (it’s probably best to get that sleb fact out there right away). The elder Law sibling is a successful artist in her own right, well known for her trademark use of gloss on aluminium and her latest exhibition, Room, has applied these techniques to images of the female nude (yes, I read the press release).

With a little help from Don’t Panic’s photographer, Seun, we eventually find the entrance to the gallery (if you ever need to know, you have to go through Soho Original Books and upstairs), and head to the first floor. Med perks up upon seeing the artwork on display – “Oh this stuff is Natasha Law?” he asks, his voice betraying both surprise and enthusiasm.

Med gets all Alan Sugar

Unfortunately the answer is no, and we must go up again to the second floor where the exhibition is actually taking place. We enter a room full of brightly coloured nude females. Med poses uncomfortably around the gallery for photos. It's clear that he has not yet become accustomed to the press, despite interviews with Super Super and, bizarrely, some Chinese magazine (an experience he describes as “the weirdest”).

But then I’m a bit uncomfortable as well – my entire research prior to the interview consisted of asking a mutual friend what Med was like. The answer was “young and French”.

Stood in Black Socks on Blue by Natasha Law

At least both of those facts are correct. Med is fresh faced, a bit young looking for his 20 years, and yes, French - born in Biarritz and living in Bordeaux for most of his life. Such facts can be deceptive, however, for while he may be young and French, Med has lived in London for the past three years and was travelling around America and Europe before that. Also, despite his young age, Med has spent two and a half of his three years in London djing, on his own or with the collective Snap Crackle and Pop, which makes me suddenly feel like, at the age of 22, I’ve already wasted my life.

“We’d been doing Snap Crackle and Pop for a while with a few friends, but it all got a bit messy, people not really pulling their weight and stuff,” Med explains. “So after New Year me and my friend Harry (Get Harmed) decided to take it over and really sort it out.” With a new monthly party at Sin Club on Tottenham Court Road, a residency at Wet Yourself at Club Aquarium and smaller ad-hoc parties at different venues, it appears they succeeded. The collective’s profile has risen massively in a short space of time.

Med Damon is 'young and French', we know because his bessie mate told us so...

It’s tempting to give into lazy journalism and paint him as a part of some French musical invasion - akin to bands like Phoenix, record labels like Ed Banger and blogs like Fluokids that have been turning much of London’s youth into Francophiles. But Med balks at the massive generalisation of being a ‘French DJ’. “I really don’t think people think of me like that - I live in London. I DJ in London. I work in London.”

Certainly, he doesn’t look like he’s trying to live up to any stereotype of Frenchness. A New Era Cap, skinny Jeans and expensive looking Air Max 90’s – Meds pretty much wearing the uniform of young London (that of a part time Size? employee) and as a DJ he forgoes any trace of Parisian sophistication for a big, British bassline sound. Maybe it’s stupid, but it’s also fun and lacking in pretension - music to spill beer and fall over to, rather than, let's say, eat a croissant or ride a bicycle to (…okay so I gave into the lazy journalism thing a little).

The art? Judging from a few of the red circles beneath the colourful nudes, there seems be a few people who place a lot of value on Law’s work. What strikes me as Law’s greatest achievement is the tastefulness of the art - taking potentially pornographic images and turning them into an artistic design. A nipple becomes a cute black ‘O’; a bosom a gentle slope of white against a bright green background. This is artwork to sit above a dining table in a fashionable, west London home, or to hang in the reception of an ad agency.

Bend in Orange on Green by Natasha Law

While it’s tasteful, aesthetically pleasing, and I would imagine it required a great deal of talent to create, when Med describes the work as “bit like something a student would do,” I know exactly what he means. The art's fine, but it really doesn’t excite me in any way. I was really expecting to be shocked by something here, particularly when I heard it was a collection of female nudes. Med is similarly disappointed, and also bitterly jealous his friends in Faggatronix got to go to a “cooler” exhibition, which, from what I can tell, revolved largely around shit.
What does all this say about Natasha Law’s artwork? Well, I really don’t know. But what I worry about is what it says about Med and myself. We go to an art gallery, look at some pretty artwork for a while, and leave, disappointed that the artwork didn’t contain any shit? Perhaps Law should move to Paris.

For more on Med, visit www.myspace.com/lemed

Find out more about the exhibition at Eleven Gallery

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