Dominik Diamond brings Games Master nostalgia to life
Show is a riot of fun: human, honest and unashamedly analogue
Friday, 23rd October — By Tom Foot

Dominik Diamond on stage at the Loading Bar
DOMINIK Diamond stormed onto the stage at the Loading Bar in Stoke Newington to the strains of Robbie Williams’ Let Me Entertain You.
The former host of the legendary 1990s television show Games Master, now 53 and living in Canada, was performing satirical songs he has written about the inner turmoil of classic video game characters, including Pac-Man and Mario.
This one-off sell-out show – “Dominik Diamond Sings the Video Games” – was nostalgia-rich, and delivered with a knowing wink to those who remember life before the internet.
It was thoroughly-enjoyed by an audience unashamedly keen to rekindle the joys of those glorious button-mashing days of youth.
One of Diamond’s anecdotes, about the coveted golden joystick awarded to young Games Master competition winners, perhaps best captured the young-at-heart-middle-aged mood of the evening.
“When we did the Games Master book a few years ago, we wanted someone to write a foreword,” he said.
“Robbie [Williams] had been on the show and we got on well. I wrote a speculative email to his agent, essentially saying, ‘Trust me, I was a huge fan in the 1990s.’ Would he do it?
“I woke up the next morning and there was an email from Rob W. ‘Nice to E-see you — will this do?’ it said.
“‘The joystick generally caused the most joy for me. I never put any awards up in my house; they’re in the garage. The joystick, however, has stayed in every house I’ve ever lived in.’”
Diamond said Robbie went on to write about his four children and the pressures of parenthood, adding that he had “gone very thin on top”.
He told the audience: “And then I spent a wonderful morning sharing emails about gardening with Robbie Williams.”
Games Master, which ran for seven seasons in the 1990s, saw teenagers in baggy clothes compete in video games from giants such as Sega and Nintendo, battling for those coveted golden joystick prizes.
The show was staged in weird and often dimly lit locations, including the historic former Clerkenwell House of Detention prison.
Diamond has lost none of the energy or enthusiasm that made him such a compelling television presence.
Even in this small, intimate venue, it is easy to see why he caught the attention of television producers in the first place.
The night was a riot of fun: human, honest and unashamedly analogue.
Crucially, it came with a hefty dose of that lovably biting 1990s humour, which seems to have vanished into the internet ether.
Diamond sings with gusto, particularly when necking a Star from Super Mario World, and his verses are cleverly crafted, often heading towards gloriously unpredictable conclusions.
I particularly enjoyed the song about Altered Beast.
Not, it has to be said, the Sega Mega Drive’s greatest game, it finds its hapless hero pleading not to be brought back after being repeatedly put through hell with yet another “extra life”.
There is talk of a UK tour. If it happens, get your tickets quickly: this show is likely to sell out wherever it lands.
Because while the games may have aged, the jokes have not.
And in Diamond’s hands, those pixelated heroes get the last laugh, even if all they ever wanted was a quiet life and the chance to stay dead.