What was your first encounter with Grime, and what made you realise that this was the genre you wanted to dedicate your career to?
I always attribute the shift from being an underground Garage DJ to what I’d call a Grime DJ to when I got hold of the Dizzee Rascal album. I got a promo of the album from the studio, and at that time, I’d been playing on pirate radio in and around the Proto-Grime scene. I had direct interactions with everybody, so I saw the music go off in really exciting and interesting new directions.
What really made me want to focus my attention on Grime was the lack of experimentation and creativity happening in Garage at the time. It had almost collapsed in on itself, like an ouroboros situation, cannibalising its own sounds, influences, and even drum patterns, which were just being reused over and over again. There was a clear lack of musical innovation and creativity.

At the same time, you had a bunch of kids and young men in London, now free from any kind of infrastructure, as Garage didn’t want anything to do with them. They were left to their own devices without any real instruction or guidance, and they ended up making something incredible. That really sparked my passion and interest.
I was someone who loved Garage when it was new, exciting, and going places no one had been before. But then it was Grime that started doing that — going in new directions and new places. It was really the body of work on “Boy in da Corner” that made me realise I wanted to focus entirely on this, culturally, and champion this sound.
As someone who’s been part of Grime from its early days, what was the scene like back then compared to now? Can you describe the energy and vibe during the early 2000s?
Obviously, everything was happening in person, but there was an emergent online community of people making, consuming, and trading music. However, the majority of it was in person from creating and physically manufacturing the music, cutting dubs, performing on radio, to performing at live events. That energy is what made it something that people really wanted to get involved with.
There was also a bit more mystique about it because there wasn’t as much documentation of everything. Not everything was being recorded, so you’d hear people on radio sets, and you had no idea what they looked like, just their voice. You wouldn’t know what any of the producers looked like or even some of the DJs and MCs, because they only existed on pirate radio, or you’d see their names on tape packs or vinyl.
It was like a magical underworld that you fell into like going down the rabbit hole of all this exciting stuff happening. There were so many subcultures and overlapping sounds, so many influences. It was really exciting, and it was full of enthusiasm and excitement from the people involved. That’s the big thing I recall: how eager everyone was to work and how much of themselves they put into it. That was a really big deal for me.
How did your journey into DJing Grime begin? Were there any key moments or figures that influenced your path?
I’ve always liked collecting things. I’ve always been a collector and have always been enthusiastic and passionate about my interests. I started buying vinyl just so I could have access to some of the music whenever I wanted, because in the late ’90s, there were no streaming platforms. Most of the music didn’t come out on CD, so I started buying records, and once I had them, that was it. But that was the gateway drug to wanting to learn how to DJ. There’s no point in having all these vinyl and not using them.
I was inspired by the impact that people like EZ and Karl ‘Tuff Enuff’ Brown had on live crowds, and that made me want to do it myself. I was fortunate enough to get into King’s College in London, which was right in the middle of the city, giving me access to all the big record shops at the time — places like Uptown Records, City Sounds, Black Market Records, and later on, Rhythm Division and Planet Phat. I was able to go to these shops, discover new sounds, new records, and just feed the ravenous dopamine beast in my brain that craved new and exciting stuff all the time.
It was such a fascinating, creative, and exciting space. Watching and experiencing the impact that EZ and Karl Brown had in clubs really encouraged me to DJ. And the fact that the only way I could get music was by buying records naturally led to me learning how to mix. I was very fortunate to become successful at it quite quickly.
How do you balance your career between music and esports? Are there any lessons from one world that apply to the other?
Everything I do is a hobby. I started DJing as a hobby, and I got into fighting games as a hobby. I work really, really hard at both, so for me, there’s not a lot of balance. It’s more about a few instances where I get asked to do things, and I can’t do them due to scheduling, but that’s not really a big problem to have.
Ironically, both in music and in esports, the genres I’m into are quite niche. They’re not big, massive mainstream genres. As much as people might know Street Fighter, Mortal Kombat, or Tekken, they’re still relatively modest compared to the bigger esports titles. That’s really similar to Grime. Sure, people know Skepta, Dizzee, Stormzy, and Wiley, but compared to mainstream success, they’re still modest in scale.

I’ve always dedicated myself to just one thing, whether that’s part of my neurodiversity or not. I’ve always focused on one passion at a time, and that’s it. You’d never hear me DJing other genres, unlike a lot of other people, and I don’t really engage with other esports outside of fighting games.
Despite having decades of experience in presenting and hosting through radio, I’ve never been interested in becoming a generic esports person. Rather than the two things giving me new insight, I think they give me insight into myself. They reflect how I present myself and how my brain works, because I can see the similarities in how I approach both.
If you think back to the ’80s and ’90s, and even now, stuff like snooker and darts were incredibly popular on TV. People would spend their leisure time doing these activities, which aren’t really sports because you don’t need to be physically active, but they are skills. The very best players at darts or snooker would get watched because people wanted to see others excel at things they enjoyed themselves. That’s how I explain esports to the older generation — people who are 40 and up. There’s this dismissive attitude of ‘oh, they just play video games for hours,’ but it’s no different from spending six hours down the snooker hall, which was very normal for people in the ’70s and ’80s. It’s exactly the same thing now.
You can draw parallels in sports, too. As I mentioned earlier, there are different scales of esports. Some games have an enormous install base with tons of players, and they generate so much revenue that their esports economies are huge. League of Legends and Counter-Strike are massive industries, whereas fighting games are on a considerably smaller scale. But they’re still full of passionate people, much like how basketball and football are massive industries, but sports like rugby, while professional and with world-level competition, don’t operate on the same scale as the NBA or the Champions League.
What was your experience like transitioning from pirate radio to mainstream platforms like Rinse and Kiss FM?
Kiss FM was one of the biggest radio stations in the country, so it was definitely a mainstream platform. I was very fortunate to have a lot of creative freedom on my show. There was hardly any direction — just a few nudges to make sure it met the professional standards of the station, but I always held myself to a high professional standard anyway.
My producer, Chris Blackley, who got me onto Kiss, was really encouraging of showcasing the genre, the sound, and the community in an authentic and representative way. They trusted me to play the right music and were only helpful in making sure the show was as good as it could be. It was a really seamless and smooth transition because I had already done that style of show on pirate radio, where I was showcasing, presenting, and playing music.
I had been given a few opportunities before that, on the BBC’s 1Xtra when it was brand new, with limited residencies. I found it really easy to slip into that role, to be honest. It was a smooth transition, and I’m thankful to all the people who facilitated it — from the people at Rinse who gave me a platform, to the BBC who were helpful in giving me opportunities as a resident, and of course, the team at Kiss, especially Chris Blackley, for going to bat for me and recommending me as a broadcaster
Did you feel any pressure to adapt your sound or did you just stay true to your roots in grime?
I’ve got no interest in adapting anything I do. If it’s not right for the platform, then the platform’s not right for me. So yeah, I’m just there to play grime. Obviously, we’re editing stuff so we can make sure that it is acceptable to be broadcast on radio. We will take swearing out and certain references and content, but that’s a legality rather than a creative choice. Creatively, I was just there to try and showcase what was really happening—an overarching representation of grime as a genre at the time. Obviously, that was my job to work out what people wanted to hear, and obviously, based on the success of the show, I was pretty good.
Did you feel any pressure to adapt your sound or stay true to the underground roots of Grime?
I’ve got no interest in adapting anything. I feel like if it’s not right for the platform, then the platform’s not right for me. So yeah, I’m just there to play grime. Obviously, we’re editing stuff so we can make sure it’s acceptable to be broadcast on radio. We’ll take swearing out and certain references and content, but that’s a legality rather than a creative choice.
Creatively, I was just there to try and showcase what was really happening — like an overarching representation of grime as a genre at the time. That was my job, to work out what people wanted to hear. And based on the success of the show, I was pretty good at it.
Can you share any stories from your early sets, perhaps on pirate radio, that still stand out to you today?
They still stand out today. I’ve always been a fan, and I still am a fan. That’s what fuels me. The excitement I get is the energy I use and harness to do the work needed to actually earn a living from a hobby.

My first-ever show on Rinse was in a disused, abandoned community center. I showed up with my records all set up, and behind me, Pay As You Go Crew, who were the precursors to Roll Deep, were doing an interview with The Observer. While I was doing my first show, so at the time, they probably didn’t really care about what I was doing. But for me, it was a moment where I thought, ‘Okay, I have to be impressive now. I have to do a good job and stand out.’
These are the guys who inspired me, who made the music I was excited about, and who made me tune into Rinse in the first place. So it was a really good start. It meant that realistically, whenever I did radio or any kind of performance as a DJ, there was no real stress or pressure because I had faced that challenge during my first recognized show. I took it as a positive challenge, and I never felt anxious throughout the rest of my career
What challenges did you face trying to break into the music industry as a Grime DJ during a time when the genre wasn’t as mainstream?
Yeah, the main challenge was the lack of opportunities for grime. I’m really thankful to my family for being supportive during the difficult times. That was the biggest challenge. I always thought I’d get on like this, alongside the likes of DJ Hype, David Rodigan, and Shorty Blitz. I imagined getting opportunities to play on bigger lineups as a grime DJ, doing a grime set to spice things up. But that didn’t really happen. Unfortunately, there was still a lot of pushback against grime being allowed in these spaces.
They wanted more controlled, mainstream sounds, and grime was seen as too controversial. It reflected the culture in London at the time, which was also when we had Form 696, a lot of stop-and-searches, and generally ignorant, prejudicial attitudes towards young people in London. Since grime was at the forefront of that culture, it suffered in terms of opportunities and respect as an art form. Record labels didn’t really understand it either.
On top of that, with the rise of technology, downloads, and file sharing, it became harder to monetize an audience that was younger and more tech-savvy than the industry at the time. The idea of people paying for music now is almost comical; most people get their Spotify subscriptions for free through mobile phone contracts. But when grime was coming to the forefront, you still had to buy physical media, which was dwindling, and the vinyl and CD industries were on their way out. People didn’t want to pay for MP3s. Even though grime was doing huge numbers, it wasn’t able to turn into money. At the same time, the live music scene was very closed off to young people making grime music, which made it very difficult.
How do you think sneaker culture intersects with Grime music? Do you feel that both have influenced each other over the years?
Well, it’s just reflecting of the fact that, with any scene or culture, there’s also a fashion aspect to it. Grime was a reflection of street culture, and streetwear grew massively. Loads of enormous corporations now exist as successful entities because they were able to monetize how people were dressing at the turn of the millennium and through the early noughties. As creative and artistic as the musicians were, they weren’t really passionate about how they presented themselves. There’s a lot of counterculture in grime. Garage music was characterized by leather loafers, tapered jeans, and high-end button-up shirts, whereas grime was the complete opposite—tracksuits, trainers, hoodies, and jackets. It really embraced that, and I really appreciate it.
You’ve seen grime evolve from an underground sound to something that has reached global recognition, What was the moment that you truly realised grime had made it?
I don’t think it has or ever did. I think it just exists. I wouldn’t say it’s a worldwide phenomenon that’s ever really been at the forefront of people’s minds. It’s just made enough noise to get on people’s radar. When we started seeing grime with multiple artists getting opportunities on lineups, performances, and events at festivals, it certainly felt better. It felt like it was at least reaching clarity with some other genres. But I don’t think it’s ever really been allowed to have any kind of stability. It’s always been cherry-picked as a genre where maybe one single track at most would get an opportunity. As a genre, I don’t think it’s ever had that opportunity.

I started “Keepin’ It Grimy” to support the culture from within. The motivation behind starting the platform was that I didn’t think there was adequate coverage of what was going on with respect and understanding of the culture. Also, there wasn’t enough regular stuff. That was the mission statement of “Keepin’ It Grimy”, just to keep it grime and not stray elsewhere. Unfortunately, that coincided with the world closing down, and it made everything really difficult to sustain. From a financial standpoint, it just wasn’t sustainable. So, it’s more like a dormant entity now, to be honest with you. The ability for me to self-produce and create content when I’m not directly selling something is very hard.
Artists making content to sell their own product makes sense. I’m a custodian of culture, so rather than that, it would be about reaching out to brands and getting that support. But they just weren’t there after COVID. The lack of live opportunities certainly doesn’t help grime, which is at its core an exciting live experience that needs to be free and expansive, rather than a controlled online interaction or bite-size viral content. It’s more of an experience, and I just don’t feel that, since the world came back from COVID, many of the clubs have been closing down. Licensing has gotten tighter, and it seems like music has become a lot more homogenised in what’s acceptable. Maybe the world’s moved on a little bit from grime
During the early days, did you have a sense that things were going to move in the cultural movement? They did. Did you feel like it was always this was like bound to happen or is this all being a bit of a shock to the system?
I didn’t really care. I was just more excited about there being something, you know, and being made. It’s very much a part of the culture. There was no—it’s probably not how things worked out, but in terms of what we could do, it was fantastic. I still think there’s a huge amount of potential for the music and the experience of grime live to exist. I don’t know if that will happen. But yeah, I think that at the time, I was just really passionate and still am about the creativity of what’s being done and what people are capable of doing when they set their mind to things with limited resources and limited opportunities. That’s always been grime.
You’ve achieved so much across all these different fields from grind DJ and sneakers eSports, What’s next for you? Are there any interesting projects on the horizon?
eSports is really consistent, you know, I continue to focus on Street Fighter VI, which is the current iteration with Capcom. I am broadcast talent for the competitive scene there. So that’s always exciting seeing competition. Now, in terms of music, I’m not really sure because it’s a time of a lot of renewal, redevelopment, and reinvention. Maybe there is a way that we can package grime to people that will be redesigned and exciting and will recapture some of the energy we had early on. I’ve seen glimpses of it, but I think it’s certainly going to be a challenge. It’s not a challenge that I’m trying to duck or avoid. I want to be part of that challenge and solving it. But I also want to champion what we have done and really heap artistic praise on what was done early on that has been kind of overlooked. The creativity of these young people making a genre of music that sounded like nothing else anywhere in the world.
Related posts
1 Comment
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Never Miss A Drop
Sign up to our free newsletter to keep your finger on the pulse with exclusive content, raffles, releases and so much more!
Upcoming Releases



Man like Logan Sama! A national treasure of the grime scene.