Rising from Nottingham: Jah Digga’s Journey in Grime 

Can you tell us about your journey into the world of music? What sparked your passion for creativity?

Yeah, so part of my passion for creativity… I grew up in a household of boys, innit? I’m the youngest out of five brothers. Growing up, they always used to play their tape packs—Mobb Deep, Nas, you know, all that old-school 90s rap. That was my first taste of hip hop and rap, you get me?

What I noticed was I could recite lyrics. I could hear a Nas 16 or a 32 and recite those lyrics word for word, you know what I mean? That’s when I realized, like, I could kind of mimic what they were doing. But if I put those flows in my own words, I knew I had flow, timing, cadence, all that.

So I started writing my own lyrics and spitting them to myself. That’s when I first knew I could write. I was a creative writer, you get me? And I could spit, you know what I’m saying?

Obviously, my mum’s Jamaican, so I grew up in a household where reggae was always playing. That was more my mum’s flavor, you get me? But then my brothers, they brought in the hip hop, like 90s Mobb Deep, Nas, Capone-N-Noreaga—you get what I’m saying? That was their thing, innit?

But my thing was grime. When I first heard Dizzee Rascal at Sidewinder, Nasty Crew, Meridian Crew from London—you get me? It was like, yo, these guys are kind of doing what we’re doing, but in London or in Manny or Brum, innit? We’re from Notts, so we were kind of doing the same thing. So I connected with it; it resonated with me.

So yeah, man, that’s when we started the grime journey from there.

how did growing up and living in Nottingham influence you? Are there any specific elements from that scene that inspired you?

Well, like, yeah, before us, I think in Nottingham, my generation was kind of the first to really get up on the grime thing. Before that, it was all about garage, UK garage, and jungle, which is where grime is born out of, but grime has its own elements.

So just being inspired by watching UK garage and the MCs, the hosts, the DJs, and being around that pool of creativity— it kind of led us to build our own thing, which was a bit more grimey at that time. It just happened to become grime, and we ran with it. We started doing sets, getting bookings at little local youth clubs, and doing the circuit. Before you know it, we’re heading out of town to Birmingham, Manchester, Bristol, to do sets with like-minded young people who were doing the same thing.

That’s how it goes, man. It kind of branched out from there, starting in Nottingham, then moving on to Birmingham, and being influenced by those artists, bringing it all together into our own sound. Every city’s got its own sound, right? Growing up, I was listening to Dipset, D-Block, Nas, and all that, so when I used to rap, I had an American twang because I was heavily influenced by them. But over time, you find yourself; as you grow older, you identify with who you are, where you come from, and your environment. I recognized it early—like, yo, it’s a Notts thing. I’m going to speak how I speak with my mates on the estate, you get me? That’s how I’m going to spit.

So when we’re in Manny, or Brum, and we’re doing sets, I’m not putting on a twang. I’m just representing where we’re from. It’s almost like an identity thing, you know? Just being yourself. That’s why I love the UK scene. If you go to Liverpool, and the Scousers are doing their thing, they’re not trying to sound like they’re from London or Manny; they sound like Scousers. We’re from Notts, so we represent the Notts area on the UK stage. We travel with it and collaborate with other sounds, other ideas, other energies. You get me? With the Birmingham lot, the Bristol lot, it’s just one whole creative hub. That’s how I see it.

Who are some of the artists or movements that have inspired your work personally?

For me, UK-based, I would definitely say Dizzee Rascal—he was probably the one who triggered the grimy style, the gritty side. Like I said, UK Garage was more nice, more of a summer vibe, you get me? But grime brought the grit; it brought the estate side, the underworld. That’s what Dizzee did, you get me?

After that, you had people like D Double E, Nasty Crew, Kano, Ghetts, Meridian, Big H, and Skepta. Are there any collectives that you looked up to, or particular groups, especially in the grime scene? Because I know that especially in regions, certain groups formed over that period.

Yeah, 100%. Like I said, Nasty Crew was a collective from London. They had Kano, D Double E, Nasty, Ghetts, Sharky Major—who I’m good mates with now, you get me? Then there’s Meridian Crew, with Skepta, JME, and all them, the North London lot.

Then, outside of London, you’ve got Vader, Brasco, GT, and those guys from Birmingham, you get me? Up North, you’ve got people like Hypes from Manny, Wrigley and them, you get me? The UK is full of like-minded people, but we have to connect the dots, you get what I’m saying?

That’s what I was on—I wasn’t just trying to stay in St Ann’s, Nottingham. I wanted to branch out, link with all the like-minded collectives, do sets, make tunes in the studio, and see what we could do, innit? See what we can do, man.

How has staying true to yourself influenced your career and the messages you share?

You know what it is? I’ve learned, because remember, I do youth work as well. I develop younger artists, and this is one of the key things I try to tell them: there’s only one you. I get being influenced by outsiders—it might look cool on TV or on YouTube because it sounds good. But there’s nothing more powerful than speaking in your natural tongue, you get what I’m saying?

Speaking with your natural accent and just being yourself—you don’t have to have a million pounds in the bank or drive a Rolls Royce. If you’re on the bus, we can talk about that; there’s a story there. There’s a story in the struggle, in the wins—everyone’s got a story. We don’t need to pretend to be someone else; we can live our own story, you get me?

That’s what I try to say. There’s power in that. Be yourself. We want to hear about it; we want to know about it. I want to get to know you for who you are. That’s how I represent myself. I give my true self, and either you like it or you don’t. It is what it is.

This is what I try to show these younger artists because a lot of them come to the studio sounding like they’re from somewhere else. And I get it—it’s influence. But after spending some time, they start to understand the power in speaking with their own accent, talking about what they actually go through. They may not drive a Bentley—they’ve got a bus pass. But you know what? It’s all right because they’re on a journey, you get me?

How do you decide on the themes and messages you want to convey in your music?

It’s just everyday living, you know? I go off experience, things I go through. Like I just said, there are so many stories in our day. I could make a tune about this—about having a meeting on Zoom, but the wind was blowing, so I had to adjust. I could make a story about anything, and that’s what life is. Life has so many stories, but it depends on what we choose to focus on and what we value.

Some people value talking about 24/7 stuff, some talk about guns and drugs, and some focus on everyday things. I think everyone in the universe can resonate with everyday things, you get me? If I speak about everyday things that we all do, most people are going to resonate with it. But if I speak about things that only a handful of people experience, not everyone is going to get it, you get what I’m saying?

It’s basically that—taking the everyday things we overlook and making them into something. Like, you know what? I do that too, or I relate to that. That’s what it’s about, you get what I’m saying? Not everyone can be well-off financially—someone has to be broke, and not everyone has to be broke—someone has to be making money. Not everyone has to be the cool guy; someone has to be the opposite. That’s what it is; everyone’s just being who they are, you know? So I look at it as a whole, and that’s how I do it.

How has your style evolved over the years? Are there any specific changes you know, or is there any periods you kind of realised that you wanted to go a different route?

Yeah, so basically, in many ways, the content has definitely changed as I’ve grown older and gained more responsibility—as a man, a dad, an uncle, a boyfriend, you know? I can’t just be speaking reckless like I was when I was 18, just talking mad. Now, like I said, there’s got to be a message, a reason behind what I’m saying, you get me?

I’ve got to be mindful that people are looking up to me, especially young kids. I can’t be out here telling them to go out and do crazy stuff, like murder or pick up drugs. I don’t want anyone taking up that nonsense because of what I say. I’d rather tell them, “Stay in school, go get your degree, be an entrepreneur, be a family man, raise your kids right, be a good husband.” That’s what we need to make cool—just living that everyday life and being a responsible man.

I’ve been doing more spoken word recently, but if I were to jump on a grime track, I’d still be delivering a message, just in a grime style, you get me? I think spoken word hits differently for people because it’s slower, sometimes with no beat or music, so it’s just my words, and people have to listen. But yeah, whether it’s grime, hip-hop, or spoken word, the message is the message regardless.

Do you feel your art is a reflection of your personal experiences or the wider cultural issues that Nottingham has faced?

First of all, it’s definitely a mix of personal experiences growing up and just living in Nottingham. Sometimes, it’s not even about me directly—it might be something happening around me in my environment. Maybe it’s my next-door neighbor going through something, you know? I can create a story from anything because I’m very observant. I watch, I feel, and being part of the community, I see what’s going on. I see myself as a spokesperson for the community, sharing their stories.

Using my platform to tell these stories, I definitely feel inspired by what I see. If someone close to me is struggling, I can help raise awareness about it. It means a lot when people reach out and say, “Yo, that piece you did, that’s literally my life.” It feels good knowing my words resonate with people and they’re not just going over their heads.

As an artist, one of the worst things is if your message doesn’t connect. Even though your art is ultimately for you, it’s nice to know it’s being understood and felt by others.

Can you share a memorable project that had a significant impact on your career?

It’s all memorable, you know? But one that stands out was this trip to Germany with a guy called Casey the Rocket, who was big there. He took us as youngsters, and we performed in Hamburg, Berlin, and I think it was Hanover. That was my first time performing abroad, and I didn’t know if they’d get it because they’re German, and I didn’t think my material would resonate with them. But music, hip hop, and energy, it’s universal—they got it. We got a lot of love, and that was the first time being abroad, performing my own music. It was a great experience, a real good look, you get me?

That trip made me want to perform even more. The live energy is completely different from working in the studio. I look at it like football—being in the studio is like the training ground, working on set pieces and tactics. But the performance is match day, where you’re on stage in front of people, and you have to deliver. The crowd’s energy is incredible, even when they’re silent. Sometimes, I’ve had crowds where you could hear a pin drop, but I know they’re listening, and I’ve got the room. That’s the equivalent of cheering—they’re feeling it.

It’s inspiring. It makes you want to go back and do it again and again. This music thing is a lifestyle—it’s not about fame. If it was just about fame, I would’ve given up by now. It’s about the art, the lifestyle, creating something from nothing. Being in the studio, connecting with different energies, seeing it blossom and resonate with people who love music—it’s beautiful.

Are there any upcoming projects or collaborations you’re particularly excited about?

I’m working on a mixtape right now with a few collaborations, aiming to release it before the end of the year. I’m also involved in a theater production coming up in November—it’s a spoken word play. We’re planning to take it to different cities across the UK, so I’m really looking forward to that.

Additionally, I’m setting up an open mic night for up-and-coming artists. There are so many young talents who ask me if there are any open mics, and I know how hard it can be to get stage time—it’s a bit cliquey. So I thought, why not create a platform for these singers, rappers, and poets to experience the stage, interact with the crowd, and perform their material? That’s happening in October.

Yeah, I’m always busy, constantly creating and moving on to the next thing!

What are your thoughts on the local scene in Nottingham? How do you feel the scene has evolved from your childhood to where it is today?

Back then we would come together, get the mics out, and all the MCs would link up and vibe for hours. But nowadays, kids don’t really do that anymore. I can’t see many stages for these rappers, drill artists, and grime artists.

I can see some opportunities for singers, especially those with acoustic styles and bands, but for the more gritty genres like grime, there’s not really a platform. That’s why I started the Open Mic Night—to give these artists a stage to express themselves. I want to see where we can go from there for these up-and-coming talents.

And this is why grime will never die. Grime created that atmosphere—getting the decks out, getting the mics out, linking up at a certain time, and just going for hours. Back then, we weren’t filming it; it wasn’t about content. It was more about listening to tapes and CDs.

If grime were to come in now, it would be crazy with everyone documenting everything and creating content. But these young people aren’t really on that. I don’t know why; they’re not linking up and doing sets like we used to. I really don’t know, but yeah, listen…

Where do you see your music going in the next few years? Is there any new directions or mediums you’d like to explore?

Yeah, 100%. Like, literally what I just spoke about, I’m trying to create in different ways. I don’t want to be the same as everyone else. So, I’m definitely directing towards the theatre world. I want to do theatre plays, imagine a Western production telling our inner-city stories. Like my story—walking past crack houses, like my cousins are involved, or my brother got murdered, and my man’s got seven kids but made this girl have an abortion. Real-life stories from the estate, but in a theatre play.

I want to present it in a theatre structure, with spoken word narratives mixed with acting and normal dialogue. Like, a character might just pop into a spoken word moment, telling a story about something that happened—like being arrested by the feds. There are crazy inner-city stories that don’t get told in that way, and that’s what I’m trying to do.

And obviously, I’m going to keep making music. Like I said, it’s a lifestyle. I’m always going to make music, but we just have to keep going, you know what I mean?

What advice would you give to aspiring artists who are looking to make their mark in the art world?

My advice would be to stay authentic, be your true self, and be confident. Don’t shy away from being yourself, you get me? Go out there and stick your chest out in the world, man. That’s one thing—fear is the ultimate killer. Fear has caused a lot of people to lose their way and has killed many dreams, you know what I mean?

If you let fear get hold of you, it’s tough; it’s hard to break free from that. So yeah, man, be fearless. Go and believe in your thing, and walk with confidence in your chest. Keep going! Consistency is key.

It’s like going to the gym—like I said, you’re not going to be the strongest at first, but if you keep pushing, you’ll be lifting 100kg before you know it, man. You know what I’m saying? That’s what life is about: just keep chipping away at it.

Before you know it, you’ll be there, thinking, “Bro, I remember when I started, and now look—I’m on this sold-out stage. I’ve sold the place out!” You know what I mean? This is what it is.