Garage triathlon… the winner?

Three garage events within three days? For garage of the dark persuasion it was unprecedented. On Thursday there was Forward>> at Plastic People featuring Wonder, Plasticman and Kode 9. Then Run the Road hosted a room at Fabric featuring Cameo, Roll Deep, Bruza, Kano, Semtex and more. Finally Digital Mystiks hosted the first of the DMZ parties in Brixton with Slaughter Mob, Skream, Chef, Plasticman, Youngsta, Kode 9 and Spaceape live plus Mala v Loefah from DMZ back to back. Attending all three was always going to hurt. Work on Friday was going to require mainlining coffee. Large parts of lives were going to be wasted on nightbusses. F**k it.

Q: So given the weight of talent on the line up… who won the triathlon?
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A: Digital Mystikz. By a hundred f**ing miles.




There were certainly highlights of all three. Plasticman playing bare grime vocals on the Plastic People soundsystem (“When I’m Ere” and “Nu Era” ). Plastic playing bare grime instrumentals at Plastic People and DMZ (Wiley’s “Ice Cream remix” and load of Aftershock instrumentals.) Kode 9’s FWD>> set was definitely a contender for set-of-the-triathlon. For the first time since FWD>> began, Kode was put in the primetime last slot, instead of the early warm up. It reflects a recent change in his DJing goals, heading for a more dancefloor ethos. He’s come a long way from the beatless “Sign of the Dub” to the weighty, droney melodica/sinodub “Blues.”

Kode 9 and Spaceape ( the artist formely known as Daddi Gee … THFKADG anyone? ) live at DMZ was the sound of things to come. Backlit by blood red light, Spaceape wobbled his cosmic afro gloriously. “Sign of the Dub,” “Fukkaz (aka Subkon vox),” “Blues (vox)” and their beatless cover of “Ghost Town” sounded remarkable, though falling firmly in the zone of engrossing spectacle rather than danceable DJ set. Get them boys an album deal, pronto.

Run the Road at Fabric was one of the strongest grime line ups I’ve seen at a mainstream London club. Bruza was comedy, keeping his thin shellsuit hood up at all times, on stage and in the balcony bar. Cameo played tons of Dexplicit riddims and while I’ve never really rated Dex’s lo-fi crunchy handclapy productions, they sounded militant over the Fabric system.

I took small satisfaction in seeing No Lay perform. No Lay doesn’t know me from a hole in the ground, never will. But I honestly know I played a small part in putting her on the stage that night. Last summer, when Dan Stacey and I were struggling to compile Run the Road, I spoke to Forward>> promoter and key underground lynchpin Soulja at RinseSessions about the comp. She described the best female MC she’d heard since Ms Dynamite. High praise indeed. But when we first heard some Unorthadox productions we initially weren’t sure. In June I headed off on holiday to Spain, taking with me a CDr of potential comp tracks. Speeding through switchback after switchback of sun-drenched narrow mountain roads, “Unorthadox Daughter” blazing out of the stereo suddenly made total sense. When I returned to grime’s hometown, Dan agreed. Seeing her spit “because I bloody heard ya” in front of a huge Run the Road banner was special.

Kano and Ghetto lead a NASTY onslaught, Jammer leapt about like the bedredded mad/genius he is (“It’s NEEEEEEEKLE”) before Roll Deep took over to headline. Roll Deep always, well, roll deep. Wiley, Riko, Trim, Scratchy, Breeze, Gods Gift, Maxiumum (with Target, Danny Weed backstage) were joined by Ears, Tinchy and Ruff Sqwad, JME, Syre and more.

Roll Deep’s appearance at Fabric last year was a landmark. Then it felt like new ground was being broken. Live, The Bug compared them to the first time he saw Wu Tang. It was awe inspiring. Maybe it felt like again that to people who’d never seen Roll Deep before. This time most tunes were rewound seconds after the drop and the MCs trademark lyrics increasingly dissolved into indiscernible shouting, reloads earned by the vocal energy dissipated not the MCs individual lyrical prowess.

It was like being attacked by an enemy armed only with hand grenades to throw, not equipped with a continuous hale of automatic weapons fire. And it did feel like a sonic assault. My response to Run the Road should be measured in the background of extreme tiredness. By 3am, after Forward>> and work the day before, I was really starting to hurt. All over. Fabric doesn’t help either: it’s a venue where the clientele are constantly funnelled through dark narrow bottlenecks. Like a micro-metaphor for London, it feels like to get anywhere you will have to individually fight each member of the population. Perhaps it’s the perfect environment to experience grime then.

In retrospect Brixton is a perfect venue for Digital Mystikz’ dubstep. A stronghold of London’s Anglo-Jamaican community, Brixton has always been a reggae, not garage, heartland. Perhaps that’s how DMZ were able to come across the most insanely loud and bassy speaker stacks that towered either side of the decks. Even in compared to Fabric and Plastic People’s badboy sounds, this system made them look weak. My ears rang the next day after wearing professional earplugs.

DMZ always had the potential to be a landmark. The hype has been building for DMZ for about 18 months now. “Pathwayz” being smashed by Hatcha at Forward>>, the Grime 2 comp exposure, DJing at Maida Vale for the John Peel Tribute night, Loefah remixing Bugz in the Attic: now is their time.

Equally it had the potential to be a disaster. I’ve trekked forever sarf to Croydon several times to hear them play, only to see more people behind the decks than on the dancefloor. Personally it’s always worth it – Mala, Coki and Loefah always keep their powder dry, always have new anthems to premiere on dub – but disappointing to see this music not reaching it’s audience. They found an audience at DMZ.

Digital Mystikz’s uptempo tracks like “Neverland,” “Conference,” “Twissup remix,” “Forgive” and “Roots” achieve a unique balance. On one hand they empower rooms, smothering them in heavy sub bass and energetic swung rhythms. On the other there’s a warmth and melodic element that triggers memories of great black music past. They never need resort to cold, distorted breaks or distorted midrange noise that the breaks crew feel “makes” people dance. Like all great black music – jungle, hip hop, dancehall, reggae, 2step – DMZ riddims don’t “make” you dance, they ask.

2004 was grime’s year, there’s no question of that. Culturally it’s still undeniably unique, vital and groundbreaking. In grime’s shadow, dubstep has suffered from a degree of reverse snobbery. But over these three days, nothing got even near the emotion unleashed by Mala and Loefah back-to-back at DMZ. Nothing.