As long as producers and artists continue to reimagine and renew what was once old, Black British music culture will always continue to evolve.

‍

Grime, is as much a legacy genre as its forebears, and sits in a category where gauging its popularity will read like a waveform - some days it’s high, on others not so much. In the same way in which hip-hop is the predominant sound of youth culture in the USA and baile funk in Brazil, grime in particular has grown into the role of being that for young people in the UK. 

‍

Different styles will emerge, offshoots will be influenced by newer ideas and ways of crafting but these are now foundational, legacy sounds from which all others sprout from. Drill, UK rap and afroswing, which are each sonically and stylistically distinguishable from grime, wouldn’t exist in their current forms without the latter providing those roots. Grime makes for a perfect barometer when assessing the current state of contemporary Black British music as evolutions that take place often trickle down into these three genres. 

‍

In 2018, I wrote about the emergence of ‘afroswing’ and forecasted that for it to continue growing as its own identifiable sound, there needed to be cultural practices and totems it could root itself in. The term ‘afroswing’ has been divisive since its inception when the sound rose to popularity between 2016-19 through tracks such as NSG’s ‘Options’ and J Hus’ ‘Did You See’, representing a blend of rap, R&B, afrobeats and dancehall. At the time, it spoke to a utopic representation of how young musicians were being influenced by the sounds that they grew up listening to, particularly in the UK, West Africa and Caribbean. This period provided belief that contemporary Black British music had risen to prominence because of the few songs that were charting and dominating radio play.

‍

Then the pandemic happened. It was a hard factory reset in regards to how people engaged with music, which had fundamentally been impacted by the inability to enjoy it in communal and third spaces. What the pandemic did allow for was meaningful interactions and engagement with music beyond the daily rituals we have. What would be our go-to listens when we’re not on a 1-hour commute or needing music to work to? For many, the pandemic allowed people to spend meaningful time with music they have already discovered or had yet to. It’s not as straightforward to say that contemporary Black British music is flourishing six years on from when TRENCH first published my piece.

‍

‍

There is a tendency for us to describe all music made by Black artists as Black British. To a degree, it’s not a bold claim but many of these sounds derive from the Global South through us as migrants. When we call these sounds Black British by default, we flatten the complexities of how music travels across borders in 2024. Where it comes from is just as important as where it’s heading. 

‍

In the same way that time isn’t linear, the way in which we view music shouldn’t be any different. And perhaps, collectively, we take too much of a simplistic approach when we look at how music is popularised within Black Britain. 

‍

Edit and remix culture all sit within the world where grime was created. 

‍

Because grime is twenty years old, there’s an assumption it should be more popular than it currently is given its influence. The reality is that so much of grime culture can be felt, seen or heard in many aspects of wider contemporary Black British music. Edit culture, which has grown post-pandemic, has been a long standing trend but popular Black British music has been an unexpected beneficiary. Edits differ from remixes in a way where the production and structural form of the song changes not made by the original artist. Whereas remixes often tend to be alternative recordings by the original artist. Edit and remix culture all sit within the world where grime was created. 

‍

Now we exist in a culture of edits and sampling where DJs and producers have a wealth of tools and technologies, it speaks to an idea of renewal and reimagination. Remix culture is far from new but for younger generations, it goes beyond wanting to craft an identity out of the music enjoyed instead building a world in which the artist is the creator, curator and listener. As long as producers and artists continue to reimagine and renew what was once old, Black British music culture will always continue to evolve. 

‍

Rebound X’s ‘Rhythm & Gash’ could arguably be described as one of the most remixed and sampled instrumentals within grime. It conjures memories of a bygone era in grime when absurdity and newness moved in tandem, to hear this riddim go through the process of renewal and reimagination allows listeners to experience in different ways for the first time again. 

‍

That songs such as Rhythm & Gash – which are still widely popular, largely for nostalgic reasons – tells us that there is a conversation and understanding taking place between different generations, even if they’re not cognisant of the significance of multiple generations enjoying the same song.

‍

The conundrum, however, is that for contemporary grime presently, there are fewer songs reaching that territory of timelessness. Grime is far from culturally inapplicable or accessible for younger audiences but when it slips from the peak of popularity, there often tends to be a panic around its longevity and survival. The sound often falls victim to a singular understanding of what grime is, particularly when it’s sprouted into many different forms such as drill, UK rap and dubstep which typically resonate with younger audiences currently. 

‍

Live music, which is still an important aspect of music discovery, has been impacted by these shorter cycles where it’s much harder for an emerging artist to book a series of gigs without some level of financial backing.

‍

The musical influences pour in from all corners of the world at a much faster rate than ever. The life cycle of a single or album are much shorter than they used to be, at least prior to streaming becoming the primary mode of music consumption. Live music, which is still an important aspect of music discovery, has been impacted by these shorter cycles where it’s much harder for an emerging artist to book a series of gigs without some level of financial backing. Platforms such as TikTok have emerged as new avenues for music discovery and for the average listener making it as easy for them as possible is why major labels have invested millions in marketing. 

‍

In some ways, the gap between bigger artists with marketing budgets and team resource and smaller, independent artists is widening, meaning that audiences are far less exposed to what used to have been deemed underground. Skepta can promote his own Big Smoke Festival and launch his own label Mas Tiempo because of the cultural capital he’s spent the better part of twenty years building. This could only work when there’s a bridging between generations of artists which is evident with the lineup representing the old and new.  

‍

On a smaller scale, Travs Presents has emerged as one of the collectives driving the new generation of grime forward. Marrying DJ online streaming culture with live MCs and video, Travs has taken the sound system format and brought it online in a world where Boiler Room popularised the format of streaming DJ sets. The fundamental elements of grime and bringing MCs into a room hasn’t changed, like dancehall before it, but the way in which audiences interact has. 

‍

‍

The cultural DNA of our local communities has changed over the past thirty years and the increased speed at which music travels, since the arrival of digital music, has left a lasting impact on what is being created today. The influences are pouring in from across the diaspora to create a gumbo of sounds that are becoming harder to isolate by any one genre. It’s no longer just the music you grew up listening to at home, what was heard on the radio and out in the world. Digital music has allowed producers especially to see the internet as a frontier. 

‍

DJ and writer Elijah recently wrote about the disparities between Black American and Black British artists being playlisted on mainstream national radio. On stations such as 1Xtra and Capital, playlisting is weighted heavily towards US pop that came out in 2003 such as Joe Budden’s certified Gold hit ‘Pump It Up’.

‍

While mainstream radio is, and has historically been a fundamental medium through which any song is made popular, I wrote that it can’t just be the few songs made by Black British artists making the UK Top 100 six years ago but in Elijah’s research into the charts in June 2024, it’s very much still the case. It only upends any kind of belief that may have existed that contemporary Black British music was excelling commercially. The vast emergence of online radio over the past decade has enabled discovery and curation to a level where the strength of a show comes from the person selecting. Gaining traction may be slower but online radio offers a much broader perspective on the many different pockets and spaces of Black British music. 

‍

‍

As youth culture drives what’s cool, there’s an intergenerational conversation that passes elements of that same coolness from one generation to another. When young people can see how that same element can be remoulded to fit within their understanding of the world, that’s where cultural and artistic practices evolve and fit within a wider ecosystem. The presence of the sound system has been a mainstay in Black British music culture for decades but it’s the way in which continues to be adapted to fit in socially, culturally and technologically. 

‍

Over time, I’ve come to realise that it’s not necessarily about whether one sound is more popular to the detriment of another at any given time but how it finds harmony within the wider ecosystem of music. For some, grime may not be top of mind today for mainstream younger audiences but the culture that surrounds it, which is ever rooted in sound systems, is what keeps the beat of contemporary Black British music alive. As a legacy genre, grime is all around us even when we can’t exactly name it, in the same way that hip-hop has permeated contemporary American society to the point you can feel when it isn’t there. The DIY culture that binds the underground Black British scene is a learned skill that grime taught us, a trait passed down from the UK’s reggae and dancehall scenes. 

‍

Perhaps the pandemic is still too recent to truly gauge where contemporary Black British music currently is, it has still only been three years since lockdown restrictions were lifted. A culture can only thrive and grow when there’s a level of nourishment and nurturing that occurs between generations, when we learn new ways of doing old things. Third spaces allow music to thrive, not only creating work opportunities but an exchange of culture and ideas. The future of nightlife is dependent on third spaces being incubated which then allow the dissemination of music. That’s the space in which contemporary Black British music thrives. What is clear and has been documented throughout time; Black British music thrives when there is a sound system and the presence of people in a room.