You know, when the conversation turns to the idea that the “future” has already arrived, it sounds rather down-to-earth.
In the ’80s and ’90s, dance music finally took control of the forward momentum, which levelled out and slowed down in our “present,” when everything became available everywhere.
When jungle music emerged in 1992 straight from the dance-music melting pot in which house, techno and breakbeat were boiling away, an incredible burst of new energy appeared—something nobody had previously been able to imagine. A couple of years later, jungle was replaced by the new music of drum and bass, and from that point on all possibilities seemed inexhaustible. At its peak, all this music was perceived as the most futuristic of all the electronic genres and styles that existed at the time. But then the “present” literally rammed into the “future.” This music lost its forward momentum. Torn apart by an internal conflict between the non-commercial scene and its staggering commercial potential, drum and bass, as a style, shut the trap on itself. Despite being a global musical phenomenon, having friendly ties with pop music and being in relatively good health over those 15 years, drum and bass became something of the “black sheep” of the existing electronic scene. For the uninitiated, the music still remains something too complicated, while, having won over a new listener, drum and bass smugly enjoys the realization that “the masses are finally getting it.”
At the very end of 2014, I interviewed the Manchester producer Dub Phizix, who had grown up on the golden legacy of this music and emerged in the early 2010s with the dancehall-infused single “Marka.” We discussed the lineage of drum and bass, and during the conversation he kept returning to the idea that this music remains “innovative.” That is precisely where the cornerstone of the musical dilemma lies. An innovative genre—technological, all-encompassing and futuristic—remains bound by the ties of a dysfunctional marriage to the outdated ideas of its own non-commercial realism. Yes, it is also an extension of the “creative indifference” thanks to which we discovered Photek, Roni Size, 4Hero and Goldie in the ’90s. That is why outstanding ideas have always found the right shape in this music, even when someone was trying to take something “from the outside.”
Amit Kamboj has been involved in drum and bass as a musician since the early 2000s. His career began in much the same way as many others’—as a “musical innovator.” He was praised by those who were fascinated by the visionary potential of this music, while remaining too far from the “golden” path. “It’s always interesting to realize that most musicians who experiment in drum and bass are always praised by critics,” says Amit. “But, one way or another, it always takes time for these experiments to be accepted by the majority.” From the beginning of his work, Kamboj was interested in the potential of half-time rhythms, captivated by the tension in tracks at 170 beats per minute. According to him, “what came out left the listener stumped as to what to classify this music as.” Today things are much simpler. “That style is now perceived as a separate subgenre. When I play tracks like ‘Immortal’ or ‘Swastika’ to new listeners, the response is completely different.”
In 2013, after 10 years of working with other labels, Amit launched his own label, AMAR Recordings. In February of this year, it released an EP titled “4 Stories.” Among its works was “Survivor,” a slower-tempo composition. “It appealed to many listeners from different musical backgrounds,” says Kamboj. More recently, he began working on the soundtrack to the film “Gloria,” about a young female criminal who wants to return to a normal life. For a musician whose work has always been distinguished by a special cinematic quality, this is more than the right step. “Cinema has always been one of the most influential factors for me,” Kamboj admits. “Everything I record, in one way or another, is more connected to narrating something fictional. I’m always looking for the best sound, mood or texture that could exist successfully both on screen and in your soundsystems.”
As with any style or genre in music, the innovation and diversity of drum and bass become obvious on closer inspection. In this respect, Exit Records, now in its thirteenth year, remains the flagship among labels. Under the attentive guidance of old adventurer dBridge, the label continues to be regarded as a confident, powerful force pushing the music forward. In summer 2014, dBridge opened the Pleasure District imprint, a sub-label of Exit focused on releasing work connected with the Heartdrive podcast, which had already existed for a year as the result of his work with his longtime companion Kid Drama. Heartdrive itself was a continuation of the Autonomic series and sound, created with Boddika at the end of the 2000s, which played a key role in reviving the experimental side of drum and bass at the time.
“For Kid Drama and me, this was a logical continuation of the music we write together,” says dBridge of Pleasure District and Heartdrive. At the same time, Kid Drama opened the CNVX sub-label for his main Convex Industries imprint. And we gained another excellent opportunity to hear experimental drum and bass releases, such as the genreless album by the Mikarma project, which appeared this autumn. The defining feature of this work is the musician’s depression and inner turmoil, transformed into the sound of the studio instruments so beloved by the Warp label in the ’90s. “I’m simply a musician creating outside the boundaries of any one genre,” admits Kid Drama. “If anything, it’s the gear I use that defines the kind of music I make.”
This was an extremely successful year for Exit. A wealth of varied albums from solo artists and collaborative projects by Module Eight, Mark System, Joe Seven and Binary Collective, along with a number of dancefloor EPs from new artists and familiar names. “I like everything, and I try to find a place for everything I like,” reflects dBridge on the diversity of his creation. “Perhaps to some people it may not seem very harmoniously organized, if we’re talking about releasing such varied records, but without that, working at the label would be extremely boring.” The key to this is the broad range of styles, approaches and ideas that keeps dBridge constantly interested in his work even after 20 years of creative activity. He continues: “I’m 100% confident in what comes out on our label, in the new names making their first appearances with us, and the way they move forward makes me the happiest person in the world.”
Another label that has successfully carved out its niche in the drum and bass scene is Critical Recordings, run by Kasra. As he puts it: “The last 24 months have been the most demanding for us, but also the most productive.” In 2015, the label released two quite contrasting albums. One was “Rituals” by the Russian musician Enei, and the other was “Wasted Days” by Sam Binga. The first album is a heavyweight: rough and sharp, playing with the perception of musical stereotypes. The second is a mixtape-style album that could have worked perfectly as the soundtrack to a new chain of strip clubs of the future, with a geography stretching from the dirty South to British ghettos. But this diversity on the label does not trouble its fans in the slightest. Kasra is confident that listeners trust the label’s choices. “You don’t have to like everything,” he admits.
Thanks to the opportunity to experiment in their releases for the label, Ivy Lab—the drum and bass trio of Stray, Halogenix and Sabre—were able to release their first full-length half-time work during the project’s several years of existence. Their debut album, “20/20 Volume 1,” appeared in November, successfully bringing drum and bass and hip-hop together. Drawing inspiration from the drum and bass movement and from outside it—from musicians such as Alix Perez, Eprom, Machinedrum, Om Unit and Fracture—Ivy Lab are equally popular with drum and bass fans and with the growing number of new listeners. Their “20/20” party has been running in London for a couple of years, and it was precisely this event that motivated the creation of the album. “We play beats, R&B, juke, footwork, experimental drum and bass,” explains Sabre. “The range of styles is genuinely broad, but we remain true to half-time rhythms.”
For Kasra, the drum and bass crowd remains the best indicator of what kind of set you can play, though that is changing. “In Eastern Europe, the crowd always wants something loud and in your face, but at London’s Fabric we can afford to experiment, and in my view that comes from the audience becoming more open,” he says. For dBridge, there is a certain line DJs should follow. “You can’t constantly occupy the position of a ‘teacher’ in a club,” he adds. “But sometimes I can do something like that, and I know that many clubbers will still be able to dance to it, despite the puzzles I throw at them during my set.”
One of the key issues for drum and bass musicians is the genre’s tarnished musical reputation, even when their creative careers contain diversity and uncompromising work. “Genres and styles mutate, the tempo increases, new names appear,” says Kid Drama. “This music evolved from hardcore jungle into drum and bass, but then got stuck under that name. When people hear ‘drum and bass,’ they instinctively think of the primitive 2-step sound from the charts, but we never stop at what we’ve achieved—we only move forward.”
At the same time, the music seems to benefit and extract the maximum advantage from younger generations ignoring the established boundaries of existing styles. That is precisely why the 20/20 party continues to exist so successfully and is now working with Low End Theory and Soulection. They are all creative collectives united by common ideas and a flexible aesthetic of electronic music. dBridge puts it this way: “They create a space for their music in which it can develop further.” This year, Kasra had a similar experience of performing at a completely different venue with a broader audience. It was at Electric Daisy Carnival in Las Vegas, the citadel of American EDM madness. “It was simply incredible,” Kasra recalls of his set. “The audience response was very warm, and listeners respectfully accepted what we were playing. And we played not only what was expected of us.”
The flip side of trying to claim a genre for yourself sometimes gets the upper hand, but sometimes you simply move away from it. After Geoff Wright, aka DJ Presha, opened the Samurai Music label in 2007, he also created sub-labels to avoid having styles and genres labelled. He released both new names (Indigo, Dub Phizix) and highly established artists (Loxy, Calibre, Paradox). In 2011, Presha did not miss the opportunity to open Samurai Horo as a stronghold for experimental electronics somewhere between ambient, drum and bass and techno. In 2013, the first compilation, “Scope,” came out, followed by albums: first the Tokyo musician ENA’s “Binaural” (2014) and “Divided” (2015), and then an album by ASC titled “Imagine The Future.” The label fully lives up to expectations as a label for innovative music. “I’m watching the creative growth of ENA and other musicians, and I have quite a few favorites in techno and experimental music whom I come into contact with—it’s incredibly great for me!” says Presha.
But while musical outsiders continue to experiment, Wright still encounters resistance from fans. Among the “sad but true” moments for him are cases when “people refuse to accept that a record at 128 beats per minute is not drum and bass.” “With every new negative comment or review, the number of our new listeners increases. They come to us from the musical circles we are targeting in our work.”
In 2016, Presha planned to draw a clear distinction between the labels; for example, Horo would stop releasing drum and bass altogether. This would symbolize how being tied to a particular scene while also being diverse can sometimes be too difficult for a label. Horo’s relative success as a label once again cemented Presha’s convictions and his disappointment with contemporary music. “Producers who come to drum and bass need something new and interesting; that is what prompts them to ‘dig’ even deeper,” Presha explains. “I can’t even imagine what that could be now. I still love drum and bass, but this music doesn’t come close to techno in terms of how unpredictable and diverse techno can sound. Right now, drum and bass is no more than a style that repeats itself year after year. Yes, 2009 was a very successful year for this music, but surely there’s somewhere else for us to go after that?”
Nostalgia today is a problem affecting every area of cultural creation and consumption. But nostalgia is also a way of reviving music through music itself. The fact that jungle is very close to Chicago footwork in tempo and rhythmic density allowed the two styles to come into close contact in the early 2010s. This is especially audible in the work of Om Unit, Fracture and Machinedrum, very strongly in the work of the Teklife crew, and in the later tracks of DJ Rashad. Through the sets of Zomby and Kode9, the albums by Lee Gamble (Diversions 1994–1996) and Special Request (Soul Music), we become clear witnesses to the revival of jungle music and the emergence of a new stimulus for experimentation both within the scene itself and beyond it.
The Norwich producer Sully has already worked in various areas of electronic music, and over the past couple of years he has been actively moving his work toward jungle. “My early work was slower in tempo, but I always loved jungle elements,” explains Sully. “There’s nothing wrong with nostalgia. It has as much right to exist as, say, a new idea that needs to be brought to life, or the digital age, or a painful breakup. The most important thing here is to listen to your heart. Any kind of ‘idol worship’ must be sincere, otherwise it can look false or self-indulgent.”
Sully’s latest release on Fracture’s Astrophonica label is called “Flock.” Listening to this release, you begin to feel that the music has frozen in time: you return to the legendary era of broken rhythms, while everything you hear resonates and echoes with the present day. Echoing earlier comments by another dance-music veteran, Mark Pritchard, Sully points to the rhythmic freedom that jungle’s tempo of 160 beats per minute gives. He admits he has so far “only scratched the surface of it,” but “the other core concepts of music are as open at 160 as at any other tempo. It’s easier to talk about the conventions of musical styles than about emotions in music, so let’s focus on that instead.”
Another musician who managed to find the right place between nostalgia and innovation was Machinedrum. After releasing the album “Room(s)” on Planet Mu in 2011, the American musician moved to the British label Ninja Tune. It must be said that you will find almost everything on “Room(s)”: nostalgia, advanced technology and a little therapeutic effect. In 2013, the musician continued synthesizing drum and bass, footwork and hip-hop on the album “Vapor City.” His decision to return to his musical roots was highly praised both by prominent drum and bass figures and by the footwork community. In his own words, this event was “life-affirming” for the musician, who now tours the world actively with live appearances.
Machinedrum’s work with tempo and his approach to drum and bass are very interesting in terms of achieving success that came to him from outside the drum and bass scene. This proves that music can exist not only in the realms of “sugared-over” mainstream or “untouchable” underground. He cites innovative musicians such as dBridge, Amit, Fracture and Rockwell as those who pointed him in the right direction. “They took risks and moved this music forward, despite the frameworks and boundaries invented by someone else. It was a movement toward new heights, containing both the spirit of the old days and contemporary currents—and overall, it was incredibly interesting and fresh.”
As a musician unattached to the drum and bass scene, Machinedrum demonstrates clearly that the speed at which a track is recorded is no longer the main factor. “I’ve seen a wider acceptance of faster tempos at parties. In the past I would get heckled a lot, especially in America, for playing anything faster than 140 beats per minute. Electronic music as a whole is more understandable to most people now, and it is accepted. People are looking for a different sound in order to distinguish themselves from what is established and popular.”
While writing this piece, I wondered why it had been harder for drum and bass to become a mainstream direction than for house or techno, even though they appeared earlier. Machinedrum traces the roots of dance music to disco. In his view, this could have become a cause of discord between these musical movements. “For me, this music is closer to hip-hop than to house or anything else,” he says. The members of the Ivy Lab trio think the same. “Many people you meet in drum and bass circles came here from metal or hip-hop scenes,” says Stray. This connection is especially strong on the West Coast. It is no coincidence that Daddy Kev, a co-founder of Low End Theory, ran the Los Angeles branch of the Konkrete Jungle parties 15 years ago. Or that rap masters from Good Life Cafe could perform as MCs at the parties. There is an unbroken historical connection between drum and bass and hip-hop which, in innovative terms, helped open the way for new experiments.
“[Drum & bass] remains the illegitimate child of dance music. The non-commercial movement within this music never received the respect it deserved after the era of the Blue Note parties,” says Kasra, recalling the legendary nights in London in the late ’90s organized by Goldie, which helped write the Metalheadz label into the annals of musical history. “Perhaps this music has nothing left to prove,” Amit reflects, before comparing it with the dub legacy of King Tubby. “Drum and bass is in its third decade of existence; it isn’t going anywhere,” dBridge concludes. “It’s really cool that popular artists connect their creative paths with drum and bass, while there is still enough room for experimentation in this music. For a long time, drum and bass borrowed ideas from other styles, but now the picture looks completely different. Now it also influences other styles, just as house or techno do. This music has now become a fundamental element of the electronic-music world. Drum and bass is now in its rightful place.”
Reflections on why drum and bass did not become the same as, for example, house or techno could fill a very substantial article, but that is the wrong question. It is not even a question worth asking. Drum and bass may not be the most popular style in the world of electronic music, but it remains the most technologically advanced and creatively daring, with its inherent spirit of futurism. And I would like to finish with the words of the musician Sully: “Drum and bass is still cool.”
Text: Laurent Fintoni. Originally published in English by FACT Magazine on 19 December 2015 as “Drum & bass is ‘still the bollocks’ in 2015”. Russian translation: Rustee (Special Request DnB blog). This English version was translated from the Russian text.
