All language subtitles for Bass Impact 2024 1080p WEB-DL DD5 1 H 264-FLUX

What other genre had such a moment?

Let me go right back a second.

Cos it was a UK question.

It's like, other than maybe Led Zeppelin

or maybe certain punk rock,

maybe like the Sex Pistols
or even The Clash,

Robert Smith, you know,
there are moments like that,

I feel, that changed
American music forever.

And I think dubstep has to be

I think one of the most
significant cultural shifts

in American or just Western music.

If you think about
all the things we covered

in this documentary,
from movies and the Disneys

and this and that and Grammys
and the sound design,

it's like, I don't think
there's been something...

- That's had that impact.
- That's had that impact.

- I mean...
- You know, just...

I think drum and bass and jungle

would've had exactly the same impact,

but they didn't have the internet.

I think a big part of it is just that

the stars aligning with the internet
and being at this moment

where we could be in complete control

over what we listen to

at any moment.

And it created this incredible divide,

and it created all this chaos
and this tornado of amazingness

and then now, as the dust settles,

electronic music is just
ever more artistic

and ever more stronger

and ever more than it has ever been.

You created the name "dubstep"

and yet you're the most humble
dude ever since I first met you.

But I think at the same time, it was like,

"OK, we started something
that we didn't mean to start."

It was just a sound, just a vibe.

- Yeah.
- It kind of just formed.

It just happened.

And what did you think while
this was happening though, bro?

♪ Light trails behind me ♪

♪ Looking back's a waste of time ♪

♪ Let's push things forward ♪

♪ And keep our heads held high ♪

♪ Time's passed, we've laughed ♪

♪ We chose new paths ♪

♪ We both ♪

♪ Got so much room to grow ♪

♪ Got so much room to grow ♪

♪ It's all we have ♪

♪ But I know we can ♪

♪ We both ♪

♪ Got so much room to grow ♪

♪ Got so much room to grow ♪

♪ Cause we're doing this
Our own way ♪

♪ Gonna turn into something great ♪

♪ We don't care about
Past mistakes ♪

♪ Cause we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Yeah, we're doing this
Our own way ♪

♪ Gonna turn into something great ♪

♪ We don't care how much it takes ♪

♪ Cause we're doing this
Our own way ♪

♪ Our own way ♪

♪ Our own way ♪

♪ Our own way ♪

♪ Let's get ready to rumble ♪

♪ Move out my fuckin' way, boy
you gonna get sliced ♪

♪ Let's get ready to rumble ♪

Just as much as bass is sound

it's also a feeling, it vibrates you.

Every time we have an opportunity

to expand on the culture in
our scene we wanna do that.

That's one of the major things
we try and do with Lost Lands.

It takes an army of people

to create what we do for that festival.

When I'm making a track, the
only thing I'm think about is:

"What can I do with this track

to give it the biggest emotional impact

on the person who's listening to it?"

Each song deserves its own visual piece

that represents what I was thinking
of when I was making that track.

We hire probably a hundred
different animators every year.

We use our eyes for everything,
so why not maximise visuals?

We want them to have
a full sensory experience

and feel the sound.

We want to bring in every single
production element we can

from the lights to video mapping,

LED projection, lasers, CO2, fire.

Everything.

How can we deliver someone's
best night of their life?

Where the music has come, you know,

our music on the worldwide scale

I still meet people now
from back in the day

and they're like,
"How's it going? Still busy?"

"Still working?"

And I'm like, I show them
pictures and they're, "What!"

People can't believe
where our music's got to

and how big it is.

When you look at the Insomniac guys,

I remember coming over here I think it
was '93, '94, and playing for Pasquale.

First gigs Pasquale was putting
on was in downtown L.A.

500 people,
RAM nights on a Wednesday night.

And of course, with that,

look where Pasquale has gone now with EDC.

When you've got people like
Gary Richard, Pasquale Rotella,

throwing these massive events now

changing the economies
of cities where they show up.

When we put Andy C,

when we put Pendulum on
at the biggest stage

which holds 80,000 people at EDC,

that wasn't something that was normal

or had ever been done before here.

And definitely not for us
at our festivals.

And now it's become the norm.

And the audience know when you
put our music in front of them

with the energy, the tempo,
the excitement, it goes off.

That's what keeps people
coming back for more.

♪ Five ♪

♪ Four ♪

♪ Three ♪

♪ Two ♪

♪ One ♪

♪ Tell me are you ready
for this war on silence ♪

♪ Soundbites get buried
in this war on silence ♪

♪ Tell me are you ready
for this war on silence ♪

♪ In this tone of silence ♪

♪ The war is violent ♪

♪ Tell me are you ready
for this war on silence ♪

♪ Soundbites get buried
in this war on silence ♪

♪ Tell me are you ready
for this war on silence ♪

♪ Soundbites get buried
in this war on silence ♪

♪ Tell me are you ready
for this war on silence ♪

♪ In this tone of silence ♪

♪ The war is violent ♪

♪ Tell me are you ready
for this war on silence ♪

♪ Soundbites get buried
in this war on silence ♪

Raving existed, and trance didn't.

And drum and bass didn't,
and dubstep didn't.

It was all melted together.
It was all...

You'd hear all those sounds in one set.

What was going on in the UK
was super inspiring.

I actually flew to the UK in 1992

because of the lack of events
that were happening here

and I had one of the best times
of my life.

A specific party I went to
in the UK was RAGE.

And I believe it was Grooverider's night.

But it was really the first time
I really heard drum and bass

in a live setting.

And I felt electricity through my body

and I was just hyped.

We were standing on rafters
that looked over the dancefloor

and I was just taking it all in
and I was loving it

and I was dreaming
about America catching on

and wanting to help make that happen.

Always when people talked about
rave culture as a culture,

it was: "What is that noise?
That hum?"

"Well, it's the resonance
of very upset people.

Against the government."

"We don't quite know what it is."

Well, you couldn't because
you couldn't put a name to it.

♪ Feel good, real good ♪

The culture and the music is so important

but the governments look at it as:

"We can't have these guys
getting together."

"More than 20 people in this
rave, we could arrest them all."

We went through pandemonium
in England, man.

We got dragged out of fields
in England for this shit.

The hype was very pure at that time

and everything was simple
and a discovery all the time.

Ray and Marty would get out of the car

and he'd stand on the roof of the car

and put his ear up to hear
where the music's coming from

and then we'd follow the path.

Drive another hour
to some crazy location .

And this first rave that I went to

was in an abandoned, dried up riverbed.

You'd think, "No one's going to be there,
it's 7am. No one's gonna be there."

You get there and it's like...

Probably 5,000 people
just in the middle of nowhere

like, "How the heck did we find this?"

10,000 kids in one place,
and they all walk around

and they find different things
in different rooms.

And it was just wonderful,
it was just amazing to see

people all moving together, and one song.

It was refreshing because
it was no longer about

hooking up with someone
or how good do I look.

It was just about the music
and being more social

and friendly with other people.

It was all the producers,
all the music makers,

all the people who wanted to make music.

They were the people
who were going to these raves.

They'd go to the rave
and go back to the studio

and then whatever they took
from that experience,

they would then put it
into their next record.

When I look back at
those early days of rave

I see it now as a social change

and something that happened
from the people themselves.

Come on. Come on.

Where I grew up
on my little estate in Croydon,

we didn't all have the best of the best.

We had to make do with what we got.

Come on.

My mum was a young mum.

She was out raving at the
weekends as you do at them ages.

At a very, very young age,
my mum went to prison

providing for us.

That was just how things were.
She was selling weed.

Come unstuck, and she went
and done her time.

We took the rough with the smooth

but all the time
things like this was happening,

I always had my music.

It was always a focus for me.

"I want a stereo system like yours, Mum,

with tape decks and stuff."

Then once I had my stereo
in my bedroom, it was kind of...

It was just...
I'm like, "You've fucked it now,

because all I'm focusing on is music."

I've now got two different stereos
playing two different mixtapes

and cutting bits of tape up

and putting audio together
on little plastic TDK tapes.

And then it just took over me
more and more.

To... '95.

It was just like a drug.

It was just...

It was like, "This is on.
It's on. This is me now."

Between my mum and my auntie,

they always made sure I always
had a nice set of needles,

a nice set of headphones,
the freshest records.

But I always remember getting up
at seven or eight in the morning,

going downstairs,
my mum's there with her pals,

tunes are blaring, and it was always...

And it was like, "What's this
fucking energetic shit?"

And it was jungle, drum and bass.

Of The Jungle Part two" by

We wanted to be recognised
for something different.

We tried hip house, it didn't work.

We tried all the genres
that came and went, you know.

But for jungle to come along,

we all nodded our head to the same beat.

And, of course, the tempos
started getting faster.

That was the birth of jungle for us,

which was those very early '90s.

But I was always drawn to this one sound

that I came to understand
was jungle drum and bass

because it was faster

and it totally resonated with me.

♪ The jungle, jungle
King of the jungle ♪

The most dominant sound
that really cut through

and set the bar was Goldie

and all his Metalheadz stuff.

That, from the logo to the look,
to the whole attitude.

When Goldie came,
he was just standing on the side

looking through the cage with his fingers,

shouting all the time.

I was scared of Goldie at first,
to be honest.

I was petrified.

And then how I actually
met Goldie, I was just like ,

I come down the stairs one time

and he threw a dubplate in my hand.

And he'd just get in the back
seat and is quiet and is like,

"So, Rob, how come it's taken
you 14 years to book me?"

I listened to it.

When I got home, I thought,
"Fucking hell."

Do you know what I mean?

This guy's got something
different going on here.

Dude pulls in in a car, fast,

Ferrari, I don't know,
some expensive fast car.

Pulls up right in the front,

double parks, doesn't give a shit

about who is standing there, whatever,

and everybody's like,
"You can't park here!"

He's like, "Fuck off!"

"Grab these fucking records,
run into the club

get on the decks and fucking smash."

♪ Target, locked, launch ♪

♪ Yeah, launch ♪

Right, make some motherfucking noise

for music.

I mean, I'm a GOAT.

It's alright, I'm a GOAT.
I've become a GOAT.

But every GOAT needs to be

a young spring chicken, if you like.

♪ Target, locked, launch ♪

♪ Launch ♪

♪ Target, locked, launch ♪

I remember the first time when
Reinforced and Dego and Goldie

and them boys
started to time stretch stuff.

When he handed me "Terminator"

and I heard time-stretching
for the first time

I was like, "This guy's
gonna change the game."

And he did.

Let's get it straight.

"Terminator" ended it for everyone. OK?

"Terminator" ended it.
Game over.

Because "Terminator" was a great example
of technology concept. A concept record.

Time-stretching was first in "Terminator"
with the harmoniser H3000 ,

which was a specific piece of equipment

that we used to harmonise
people's vocals that can't sing.

"What if I put breakbeat through it?

No one's ever done it.
Let's do it."

So we wired it up

and the whole aspect of "Terminator"

is turning the knob on one programme.

It's got a thousand programmes on it.

But that idea, changing pitch,
was not time stretch.

Time stretch is when
you put the sample into the 950

and stretch it over the time
it's supposed to be stretched.

But at the same time,
DJ Hype on Suburban Base

made a tune called "Shot in The Dark"

and they both was around at the same time.

We put out one of the first
time stretch records.

A DJ Hype track called "Shot in The Dark".

So the whole idea of "Terminator"

and using, essentially...
Which wasn't time stretch.

That's the thing that was the red herring.

"Terminator", everyone seems
to think that time-stretching

was first on "Terminator".

You guys thought
that it was time-stretching

and that is why
the graffiti cast the illusion.

Bam! Done! Job done.
You're still sitting there.

By the way, just for the record,

Dan Donnelly's looking miffed
behind the lens.

Similar technique that we thought

that Goldie had done
in his record "Terminator"

blew my mind when all these years later

he explains to me how he achieved that.

So, I'll have that one, guys.
Thank you very much .

This was him and Hype

and the guys at Reinforced
and Rob at Moving Shadow

and everyone really testing the boundaries

of what this limited equipment could do.

And that's the story of Urban Legend.

The idea of time stretch.
Was it Dego? Was it you guys?

Who was it?
But I win, "Terminator", I win.

But the idea of this friendly rivalry,

playing table tennis with mentasm.

These guys were making music
to best their peers.

There was that friendly rivalry.

It meant that everyone
was raising the bar.

Everyone was pushing the limits
of the equipment,

pushing the limits of what we
could do with this technology,

where we should take the sound next.

There was no rules.

I think in anything, in any great art,

at least the stuff
that I remember looking back at

it was limitation
that bred extra creativity

and experimentation
and thinking outside the box

because you really had to use all you had.

Even going back to bands like The Ramones,

they bought all their gear
from flea markets

and they just wanted the guitars
to sound crazy and loud

so they turned gain, treble,
mids, bass, volume,

everything up to ten, because
that's how they knew to get it,

and that's how I was going,
you just get the energy out.

- For life.
- For life, man. Exactly.

The word "house music" was named

because it was music that
sounded great in warehouses.

That's why it was minimal

that's why the kick drums
were so dominant.

It's because it would have to sound good

in a non-acoustic treated area.

We have these drum machines,
we have warehouses

and we have whatever.

We've got to make do with what we have.

And from there, they pushed the boundaries

and then house music, the soul, the core,

kick drum music, four-on-the-floor

is embedded in us forever now.

Bang, bang, bang.

You've got Andy C
selling out Wembley Arena.

That ties into everything, I think.

Andy knew Wembley
was so significant for us

cos it took a long time to get there.

We ended up being
the first ever all-night show

of any genre, any act, ever.

Wembley Arena had given us that honour.

Turned out they were well up for
putting on an all-night party.

♪ Back and forth ♪

♪ And back and forth ♪

♪ Back and forth, and forth ♪

Roni Size winning the Mercury Prize.

Huge for the scene.
Really important.

This was a pivotal moment.

I think everybody was buzzing after that.

Look, I've never won anything in my life,

but we went, we turned up and we won.

And I think we represented,
we did our thing.

It wasn't an award just for us,

it was for the whole of what came before.

We really felt like we'd arrived.

It was Roni and those guys
who spearheaded that moment,

but we all benefited from it
and it was a huge deal.

This is probably the most radical winner
in the history of the prize.

Drum and bass is still very much an
underground movement in Britain,

but tonight, it really goes overground.

People said we were crazy,

but we just believed in what we was doing.

You know, Die, Suv, Dynamite, Krust,

we've all been working hard for this

and this isn't just about me,
it's about, you know, listen.

Originally, jungle had been
starting to have its moment,

and then...

At that same time,
it started getting super dark.

It got a bit moody.

I like the dark stuff,

but there were no females
going down that road.

You'd go to a rave and it was bare men.

I'll always forever credit Dieselboy
with destroying drum and bass

from being popular in the U.S.
In 1997.

But I always just followed

what I thought sounded the most
progressive at the time.

Then Dieselboy was like,
"I only play dark shit."

When I was playing dark stuff in '97, '98

and playing a lot of
Renegade Hardware stuff,

I just thought that was
the most progressive style

of drum and bass that was out at the time.

But as jungle drum and bass emerged

in the UK through the '90s,

there became a point in time

towards the end of the '90s where...

Yeah, UK garage started to creep
up on the record shelves.

Garage music was kind of
born out of the necessity

for an urban UK music
that people could rave to

but was a little bit more female-friendly.

All the girls listening to garage

at the after parties, saying,
"You got any garage music?"

You almost get two scenes come from that:

the grime scene,
guys like Wiley and Dizzee

and these guys that
were part of the garage scene.

And before that,
the drum and bass scene, as MCs.

So you've got grime that emerged from this

and these are all ancestrally
from that D&B-jungle lineage.

And one of the most important ones

that grew from that was dubstep.

There was one DJ in particular

who was championing this sound

before it really had a name
and an identity.

And that was Hatcha,

working out of Big Apple Records.

Here's where it began.
Welcome to the home of dubstep.

Dubstep wasn't just me.

Dubstep was a handful of artists
that brought this together,

as well as a couple of record labels.

This is where it all started
for me, club-wise, to be fair.

This is Granaries nightclub,

and we're right in the centre of Croydon

and I used to play for a pirate
radio station called Upfront FM.

And they used to run a weekly every
Saturday here at this nightclub.

It used to be called the Ananda Lounge.
This was day one for me.

This was where old school garage was
happening every Saturday night.

Way before dubstep was even thought of.

Before the genre was even coined.

This is where it started,
performing in clubs

and working in the record shop
just up the road.

This was the spot for me
in the early days.

The shop was in a busy
fruit and veg market,

so I knew all the people
up and down the stalls.

It's a pound for a bunch.

That's what I wanna hear.
You're doing alright.

That's what it's all about.

You stand at the back of the shop and
you're like, "The big boys are here."

It's like, "You ask for a
record." "No, you ask for one."

You get a bit more confidence,
finally find your sound,

your style of music.

And at them time, it was
early UK garage and jungle.

This was all from a little shop
I just found

down the fruit and veg market
called Big Apple Records.

This was my thing, in and out of the shop

and it got to the stage
I'd get to the shop some days

and there'd be no customers in there.

Then I'd have to make conversation with
the guys working behind the counter.

That's when you build up
your relationships.

As a DJ who was playing music
on a weekly basis

in the vinyl era, record store culture

was probably more important than the club.

At first it was a movement,
and then it became a culture

which took over the world.

And also it was a really
important meeting place.

I mean, that was our social media.

You can't beat going to a record shop.

We have to go in and hum a few bars

to the guy behind the counter
in the record store.

And you know that feeling
when you have to have the tune.

It's in your head.
You're living it, breathing it.

That was all part of the fun,
tracking down this music

and singing a snippet of it:
"It goes like this, mate."

The geezer's looking at me,
I'm looking at the geezer,

and he's like, "I don't know
what that tune is."

The raves are only
gonna be on the weekends,

the club's only open on Friday night

but seven days a week
that's your link to the scene.

Having these records
that you can hold on to

and you can feel and touch.

There's something tangible and
there's something real about it.

And that is your connection to the artist.

The sense of community
from going into a record store.

To get them white label dubs,

you'd have to know someone
behind the counter.

White labels would come in

and it was first come, first served.

You didn't know what was gonna be in it

and there'd be ten people
just like me all sitting there,

frantically hoping
to get their hands on something.

They'd lay out
100 white labels on the table

and then there'd be about 20 of us like...

It's like a catfight.

And it didn't really have
any kind of class,

it didn't have any
social standing relative to it.

It was just you were into the music

and that was the beehive.

Me and Artwork had done
a Big Apple Records radio.

We put a speaker on each
of the lampposts opposite.

That's it.

Ran a wire to the top of the record shop

and we were playing tunes
off the Technics, weren't we?

We were doing shouts-out
to the market traders.

This is Big Apple Records,

and this is where it all started.

Unfortunately,
it's a hair and beauty salon now

but this was our home.

I'd just walked out of my last job,

stopped at the record shop
on the way home,

walked in there, sad old face, said,
"John, I've been sacked." and all that.

He went, "Jump behind
the counter for the day."

At the end of the day, he was like, "You
can have a job, mate." I was like, "Sweet."

So, I was here every day and it was on.

It was on, it was the home.
Big Apple was the home.

And I'm very grateful
to have been part of it.

Wages weren't great, working in the shop.

But what was great
was being in that environment,

being with the people
that worked in the shop

because that record shop and
the people I worked with

meant a lot to me
and they still mean a lot to me.

And that was a big part of my career.

There's no way I'd be where I am today,

if it wasn't for Big Apple Records.

So the next thing you know,

we've got this young boy
coming into the shop.

Oliver.

Oliver Jones.

We didn't know that

he was gonna turn out to be
an absolute genius, did we?

Skream's ears didn't pick up
to the regular two-step garage.

The popular stuff.

His ears picked up to the cool stuff.

Me and Ollie built up a relationship.

I was driving home from work and see him
waiting at the bus stop in school uniform.

"Want a lift home, mate?"

Two, three, four months later
he's come in with a mini-disc.

And you could tell
six months down the line

he's still playing with his programme.

I'm like, "He's fucked, he's in this now."

"We've got him for life."

Anyone that was coming
into the store producing,

he would encourage them to be making stuff

that was of the style that he could play.

And that was this darker strand
of garage and stuff like this.

Hatcha was known for playing garage,

but more so the darker stuff
and the B-sides of garage tunes.

It was garage B-sides really.

Like breaky, weird, dubby,

third track on a garage,
twelve tunes mixed together.

His sets morphed from those B-sides...

There were signs it was morphing.

...And the dark garage into the music

that people like a very young
Skream were giving to him.

- Are we on air?
- Yes, you are.

Hello, Ma. I'd like to hear a
new beat on the request line.

OK, you got it. Comin' up.

Once Skream got his hands on FruityLoops,

it was goodbye to the rest of the world.

And the music he was writing was dubstep.

But dubstep hadn't been coined yet.

I didn't know what I was witnessing
was the birth of dubstep.

So, while Ollie's doing this,

I've got this other youngster
that comes into the shop.

And he become another little regular.

And it was Ollie and Bennie,
Skream and Benga.

You've just seen the end
of Benga and Skream.

That's what everyone wants, innit?

That's why they keep booking us together.

I said, "What kind of music is this?"

Then I found out it was called dubstep.

That was my entrance into dubstep.

I think Skream was one of
the first people I ever played.

His take on dubstep was

probably the platform
where everyone copied.

I think it's undeniable to show

that all that comes from
the likes of Skream and Benga.

New producers started popping up.

One day, one boy comes into the shop

saying he's brought me a CD as well

and I was like,
"This is cool. Cheers, mate."

It said on the front of the CD
"Quiet Storm" .

Little did I know that Quiet Storm
would turn out to be Caspa.

But actually picking up vinyl

and starting to get into the DJing,

that was really, I would say, 2000-2001.

His music's gone
straight into the record bag.

Also, I've got a couple of MCs

that I've known in
the garage scene before dubstep

that stopped MCing.

They've come in one day and they've gone,
"Hatch, I've started writing music."

This was dubstep
how I've never heard it before.

Me and Coki had been building
tracks for about a year.

And all of a sudden,
we give them to Hatcha.

Hatcha's like, "I can play this."

We were like, "Rah, OK!"

Now we've got a good team.

We've got loads of kids coming into
the shop giving us good dubstep.

So people like Skream, Benga, Mala, Coki

would all buy records
and learn a lot about music

through Hatcha.

They would play the music,

share the music with Hatcha
to get feedback.

All they was doing for me
was giving me their artillery

and I was just pumping it out
in the clubs, on the radio.

Please make some noise

for the guy that goes
by the name of DJ Hatcha!

There was a genre...

Not a genre, there was a scene
growing with us.

And a guy come into the shop

he was chatting away,
I think he was writing notes,

but he was some kind of blogger
or interviewer

and he was asking us some questions.

He was like, "What have you
called this new genre of music?"

He's fumbling for
what do we call this stuff

and, "Well, it's like two-step."

We didn't know it was a new genre.

I thought, "What do you call it?"

And I remember 'dark
2-steppy' kind of stuff.

It's like a darker, dubbier
version of two-step.

This is 'dubstep'.

'Dubstep'.

And it was born right there.

That record shop

I mean, pff, dubstep was born there.

Back then, I'm in a point that
I'm listening to hip-hop

and drum and bass and reggae
and I'm in a metal band

and I'm sitting there at that night

and someone's playing these records

that are somewhere in the middle.

It's heavy like metal,
it's slower than drum and bass,

there's hip-hop mash-ups.

It was, take everything that I like.

There was reggae, vocals on it,
take everything I like

and put it all together,
and that's dubstep.

How mad is that?

I went and asked the DJ,
"What the fuck is this?"

He was like, "This guy's Benga,
this guy's Skream,

this guy's Mala,
this is another Skream record."

It was basically mostly the Croydon boys.

- Yep.
- I do understand...

I'm not saying you.

Oh, yeah.

For me, I didn't realise
that the music was from Croydon.

At that time,

I was 100% committed to drum and bass.

I got a text from Teck.

She's like, "Yo,
are you familiar with dubstep?"

I was like, "What is dubstep?"
I'd never even heard this word.

I was like, "Yo,
this is really crazy shit."

It might be slow drum and bass,

but the producers know what they're doing.

And I was like, "Oh, so this is Kode9,

this is Coki, this is Mala,
this is Skream, this is Benga,

this is Hatcha, this is so-and-so."

And so, from that, that's when
I started going deep.

Skrillex, he's been a DJ
around L.A. for a long time.

He used to play dubstep at the Cinespace.

He would play on Sundays
and I went there one time

and I heard somebody
playing dubstep in there

and I was like, "Who is this kid?"

And my friend says, "His name's Sonny

and he was in a band."

We found out he lives in downtown L.A.

And then we were friends, ever since then.

When I first saw 12th Planet live

I'd never felt bass like that.

And I remember where I was.

I remember 12th Planet opened up
with "Sweet Shop"

and just the contrast between
that high Doctor P flute.

And that high note.

Right?
And you can almost see it.

I feel like I have synaesthesia.

I can see the shapes and patterns,

at least in my own head,
I see how they look to me.

I can see that high thing sitting on top.

And I can feel and see
this low, low octave.

Dubstep became a massive influence,

ever since seeing 12th Planet live.

That was the first time
I ever saw live dubstep.

All I wanted to do was make a record.

If I could make a record
that Excision would play

or 12th Planet,
then I was happy, back then.

I remember seeing Sonny at Insomniac raves

before he was Skrillex,
and he's quite recognisable.

And he's walking around backstage
while I'm like, "Who's that kid?"

I see him at every rave.

And I'd be playing out in San Bernardino

for Forest and Pasquale

and then, "There he is again.
It's that kid."

He was DJing
as Sonny and the Blood Monkeys,

but he got signed.

And he pretty much spent his whole cheque

on going to Europe.

So then, as far as I understand,

there was something about
Noisia doing a remix

where he got involved with Noisia.

Once he worked with those producers,

he came back and his whole ethos
was completely changed

and his mixed sounds were crazy.

His way that he approached
making music was different

and he was competing
and operating at a higher level

than anyone I'd ever seen in my life.

Dance music was forever changed

by Skrillex enlisting the very
best drum and bass producers

and coming out with,
"My Name is Skrillex".

He went in like a guppy came outta shark.

After learning all about
how to be Noisia from Noisia,

people say that
he's ghost-produced by them.

I'm like, "No, he wasn't.
No, he's just a smart kid."

He knew what he was doing
and he knew they were the best

and he went to the best
and he became the best.

It appeared that I was this guy

that took a genre,
then got a ton of money,

and just made it famous
and cashed in on this moment,

but it was really a progression
in my whole life

up to that moment
of constantly making music.

And not really thinking,
taking it in and letting it come out.

Some people might call sleeping in a van

and making $100 a show
split amongst eight people

trying to sell $500 of merch to
get to the next city a hardship,

but for me it was just fun,
it was adventure and growing up

and that's what made me appreciate what
I do now as far as travelling goes.

Just to get a hotel room and enough money

to make it to a city as a DJ
was insane to me

'cause for the first year
and a half of touring

my band, for the first year,
we made no money,

we were just in debt.

It was always a passion.

A few months.

Cos they've got no fur.
Snuggled in bed.

I've been DJing since 2007

and learned around the street
in the first loft I moved into.

There was a DJ that was my neighbour

and he taught me Serato and CDJs.

And back then it was electro,
Daft Punk, Mstrkrft, Justice.

I'd DJ warehouses and do little remixes

and that's how I paid my rent
in this area, it was very cheap.

So when I started getting busy
with touring in about 2010-12,

I didn't live anywhere, I didn't have an
apartment or somewhere to call home.

And then crashed at The Compound,

which is 12th Planet,

which was the dubstep hub of Los Angeles.

People crashed in there,
making tunes back there,

so many records have been made back there.

Me and John did a couple
of songs back there.

And it was just exciting, man.

That's fucking good audio.

It's more about
your aesthetic of production.

I love old cameras.

I love my cameras.

The sound is just so spot on.

This is a record that I'm mixing

and I don't look at my music.
Some people swear by like...

When Noisia's in the studio, they have the
spectral analyser running the whole time

so you're seeing the music.

You're seeing what key the kick drum is.

And you see if it's flowing
perfectly in the sub

or if there's a little phasing.

I normally don't do that, but I'll send
it to Virtual Riot at the end sometimes.

And this band, this range

is normally on every loud bass record.

And that's my song,
so the bass is a little higher.

I like my shit louder,
but there's a bump right here.

Ah, yeah.

In between here,
then down here, the high mids,

I just ended up boosting a little
bit of like 3K right there,

which is normally the harsh shit you wanna
get out, but I took it out too much.

So that's what we were just doing.

The way I was doing things and trying
to make sounds was so wrong.

I first got FruityLoops
when I was 14 years old.

With the demo version,

you'd have to finish a song completely

and you'd render it cos you couldn't save.

So I'd basically have to finish a song

and I can only imagine how
insane my project files looked,

just remembering the techniques
to get a certain sound.

I still do things
the wrong way all the time.

I'm like, "I can't get
that sound from there,

I have to try something else."

Sometimes less is more.

I've got a record.

A lot of production techniques

some of the best engineers in the world

come from bass music, like drum and bass.

But there's a big element,
especially bass music,

drum and bass, anything that was
a little more breaks-oriented

comes from a more reggae sound system.

It all comes from the reggae sound system.

Everything comes from Jamaica.

♪ ...Rebellion, let the whole world know ♪

You can see a direct parallel

between how that influenced
the UK urban music scene

and how that was the incubator
for hip-hop in the U.S.

DJ Kool Herc in the projects in New York,

he's putting up these speaker stacks

and a couple of turntables, MC.

That's pure reggae sound system.

That's where you're getting hip-hop.

That's the birth of that whole movement.

Drum and bass was the first time

where you really had this integration

of underground
West Indian music and techno

and all of these sounds coming together.

So I think that's had
a super lasting impact

on all the genres that followed.

I believe bass music producers

tend to be far more technical

than your average music writer.

If you wanna take producing
A-level, expert production,

drum and bass is definitely the
deep end of the swimming pool.

It's not easy to make this music.

It's not easy to make bass music.

It's not easy to make people
screw their face at a sound.

We're in a cut-throat business

where we have to come up
with the next new thing.

Nobody knows what the next
new thing's gonna be

so you have to create it and develop it

and you push the boundaries
of whatever is available to you.

For example, with my Roland W30,
my first sampler,

it had 12 seconds of sample time.

You only had 13 seconds to sample.

14 seconds.

Had 11.5 seconds sampling time.

So imagine trying to make
a four-minute, five-minute record.

And you have a total of 12 seconds.

We would take a sampler

and we would use it for
something they hadn't intended.

So we were taking shit
and turning it, spinning it,

chopping up and dicing it.

Programmes like Recycle,
when that came up,

which would chop beats
into little fragments

in order to speed them up
without changing the pitch.

We would do that stuff manually.

What if I just get a sound going

on a microphone.

And put them on a keyboard.

Stretch them over ten keys,
ten keys, ten keys.

Play them fast in a row

and then you can change
the tempo on something.

We pushed the agenda for the people
making the technology sometimes.

It was expensive back then.
It was a real barrier to entry.

You couldn't just download some software.

There was no internet.

It's different now
cos you think about dubstep

and they have sample packs.

It's like, "Here you go.
Make a track with these noises."

Lots of people didn't like it
when I put out a sample pack.

And I just did it again

and there's been mild backlash again.

Like: "Everything's gonna sound the same

now everyone has these secret sounds."

Technology's everything, remember.

Technology is the guitar string,
technology is the guitar amp,

technology is the recording.

There's always been technology there

but it's just more accessible,
cheaper technology.

It just comes from the roll off
of this view, it's too strong,

and the movement is the important part.

The producers nowadays,
the shit they can do

the way they can get sounds,

the fidelity and nature of
the production techniques

are on another planet.

It's an unsung hero,

the production levels of our musics.

But I think it's being that unsung hero

that keeps it in the underground,

keeps it a culture, keeps it moving

when all these accolades
fall down, when they all stop.

We all know that the levels of production
in dance music are through the roof

and have always been getting
better and better.

And that's all we need to know.

I remember I played with Benga
at the Apollo in Manchester,

I played right after him and he dropped
his last tune before I went on.

And I just grabbed him and
I was like, "What's this?"

He was, "Ah, new Skream tune."

The forums the next day were buzzing.

Like going mad.

When I first heard a vocal dubstep tune

it was kind of like,
"This can cross over."

Like really cross over, though.

It was the La Roux x Skream
remix, "In For The Kill".

A remix of the La Roux.

It crossed over with that song.

This thing is fucking cool.

Now that is fucking good.

♪ Leave them out too long ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ I'm hoping you'll understand ♪

♪ And don't let go of my hand ♪

♪ They say we can love
Who we trust ♪

♪ We can fight our desires ♪

♪ And don't let go of my hand ♪

We used to be on AIM,
all the dubstep community.

Everyone had AOL Instant Messenger.

The great thing about
AOL Instant Messenger is

you don't have to be friends with
someone to send them a message.

Mind if I send you some stuff
via AIM? Cool.

The first thing I started doing was
sending to some of the people I knew.

And so I sent it to John

and I believe he hooked me up
with Borgore.

I remember one day
this kid hits me up: Skrillex.

Flux Pavilion.

I went to speak to Sonny on there.

I remember he sent me...

This record that was called "FM8".

It was called "FM8 Test".

Because he made the record
with the synth FM8.

And all he said was,
"What do you think of this?"

And I was like, "What is this?"

"What the fuck?"

I was sitting there for a month or two

trying to figure out the sound
on this record.

And I was just like,
"This is totally unique."

I remember it struck me as
not the dubstep that I knew.

And that was later

"Scary Monsters And Nice Sprites".

And I remember sending a message
like, "Yeah, it's alright."

The internet's horrible for music.

It's like...
Fuck, that's a tough one.

Yeah, that's loaded.

The internet's, I dunno, it's
a double-edged sword, innit?

The internet, yeah.

It's a funny question.
It can go both ways, I think.

I think the internet in terms of music,

it accelerates everything.

Good or bad.

And it's a product of who we are
and what we put into it.

I think to say the internet's bad for
it is kind of living in the past.

It's been bad in the fact that...

Music is almost seen, I think,

by the younger generation
as more throwaway.

An instant doesn't have
much shelf life anymore.

It feels like it's very in and out.

We probably consume more music
and entertainment

than at any point in human history.

ITunes has systematically
destroyed album culture.

It's destroyed the need

to go and spend your money on the artist.

People were just
downloading, file-sharing.

You didn't need to buy a compilation album

because they're picking
a track here, a track there

and making their own playlists.

So that business absolutely
dropped off completely.

I think other things like SoundCloud
and stuff like that,

I think, really changed the way,

that's a music business thing,
the way music's listened to

and the way music's shared,

and the amount of music and the quality.

The quality bar, I think,
has dropped through things like sound hub.

You could sit there and say,

"I don't like the way Spotify
and Pandora pay us

with 0.05 fucking percent
of a whatever the fuck that is."

"But look at the amount
of views I'm getting."

You were only hearing what you were fed.

The major labels, radio, MTV
really had control of things.

Now we can choose what we listen to

at any given moment.

And not only what we listen to,
but how we put it out

and who listens to it.

You can get your
music to someone now easily.

You can get your music to a label easily.

As in the old days, it was who you know.

You can literally see careers
made off the internet now.

I owe a lot of my career to the internet

because without MySpace
and YouTube and all that stuff

I'd never be where I am

cos I sent all my records
to Dub Police and Hench

and Boka and all these labels

and no one responded.
So...

If you're going on the internet
and put in creative energy

and sharing your music

that you'd never have
the opportunity to do

unless you were signed to a major label,

that's a net positive.

And the more people
who are putting good out there,

the internet will be great.

♪ Hit 'em with that ♪

I still to this day say that dubstep

was the first internet-based genre.

And I think dubstep
and the internet blew together.

It was the perfect timing for the
music just to spread and blow up.

If it wasn't for forums

and people ripping sets and uploading.

With MySpace and Twitter and YouTube.

Other genres of music didn't
come up that fast in America.

It took years for even
house music to blow up.

Whereas dubstep,
the way it blew up so fast

because of online hype,

that's probably how every
future genre that blows up

it's gonna happen that exact same way.

And that's kind of why dubstep
ramped up in 3-4 years,

what drum and bass tried to do
in 15-20 years.

I think the biggest difference
between jungle and dubstep,

like what Caspa said,

dubstep took three years
to change the world,

where drum and bass had tried for years.

I think it was in that moment of
renaissance we were experiencing

with the internet,
with digital audio workstations,

Ableton Live, FruityLoops,
all these things,

all at the same time.

YouTube, boom!

It was like new energy

and we all had it
in the palm of our hands.

The internet to dubstep

was what pirate radio was
to drum and bass.

Pirate radio
was our version of the internet.

That was my SoundCloud.

That was my internet, was the radio waves.

Pirate radio, still,
I was obsessed with it.

Pirate radio was the only place
you could hear music,

proper music.

Tell you what, allow the football talk.

We're all gonna fall out
and have a rubble.

♪ There's too many men, too many men ♪

♪ Too many men, inside the house ♪

Trust me.

People were tired of not hearing the music
they wanted to hear on the radio over here.

Some whizz kid, electronics enthusiasts

started building transmitters.

That's the hardest part
of setting up a radio station

is, "Where do you get a transmitter?"

We happened to have a guy in the class
that could build one for us.

And it was a bunch of kids
in some block of flats somewhere

who figured out how to use
an antenna and all this stuff.

This is a test transmission.

Coming soon on this frequency,

London's brand-new station
Flex 101.4FM.

You're putting the aerial up

and you're basically trying to piggyback

off other radio stations
that have a legitimate licence

of which there were three.

"We want our own radio station",
is the attitude.

"We're gonna put the music out there."

Pirate radio was the essential way

to find out what was going on.

Happy old-school Sundays, guys and dolls.

Do the first few shows, set them up,

read it out on the station,
"Everyone go down to this venue."

They would tell you

exactly what was going on where,
what time, who was playing.

It reached out to so many different people

and dragged people in who didn't
even know this music existed.

All the ones that I knew
and had anything to do with

would generally be an abandoned flat

in a tower block, you know,
government housing.

What we call a block of flats
on a council estate.

Just imagine you're going up
a flight of stairs

in a 20-storey tower block.

Knocking on the door, like
a little shutter, "Who's that?"

In some of them,
you go through a secret door

through a cupboard,
then you're in the studio.

There'd be nothing in that flat

except for a pair of
Technic 1200s and a mixer.

It'd have all the setup to play the music

and that was it, that was all
that was in the flat.

It'd most probably be smelly.

Empty crisp packets and
coke cans all round the place.

Stinks of smoke, stinks.

Cockroaches everywhere.

And you don't even want
to put your record bag down

and, you know, just totally falling apart.

I used to love it.

I'd play four in the morning till six.

Any message, whether it'd be one
or three: "Someone's listening!"

You'd just be there playing tunes.

You didn't think any minute
the door would come through.

The only thing about it

is that you had to hide from the DTI.

Someone has to watch
for this van with an aerial,

and that was my job.

You have to watch for this van,
and if you see it,

you're like, "DTI!"

You're running up the stairs
and you've gotta grab the aerial

cos that's the thing that costs money.

For me, pirate radio
stations are a big part

of the development
of rave music from the UK.

There wouldn't be what there is now

on a full open page

for whether it be drum and bass, jungle,
anything, if it wasn't for pirate radio,

cos somebody needed to take a risk.

Pirate radio, right, was a revolution.

It was evolution.

Take it on the chin,
son. Pick yourself up. Bosh.

This is groundworks.

You want something right now?

That building right there, so, yeah, 2010,

in that second window from the right,

that's where I did "Scary
Monsters and Nice Sprites"

and lived, actually, from 2009-2010.

In the Arts District.

So, here it is.

You have to think about
the whole lead up to that sound.

It was like when we started with Skream

and you go into maybe like Doctor P

and Flux and all of that stuff.

It was the second wave of dubstep for me

that got me really excited.

With the likes of Flux Pavilion,
Doctor P.

I try and make wobbly music
and always do it really badly.

To the point that Doctor P,
who was doing drum and bass

was just like, "Just stop.
Just stop doing it."

Then I heard dubstep and I was like,

"Shit, if I just slow down
all my songs to 140BPM,

that's it,
I was writing it anyway."

Flux played me "Cockney Thug" by Rusko.

Straight away, hearing that tune

opened up potential to me
for what dubstep could become.

So, within a couple of weeks of hearing
dubstep for the first time

I started writing it.

It was just an immediate: "This is it."

"This is the music."

It was like Croydon being reborn again.

Flux and Doctor P playing
right before Diplo at EDC

was a huge moment,
not only for bass music,

but for dance music.

The place was going bananas

and people had never heard

a lot of the music they were dropping.

Moments like that
contributed to dance music

blowing up in America.

And just created this most amazing music

and just turned everything on its head.

And then Skrillex was like
another level of insanity.

I was a big supporter of Skrillex.

I like Skrillex. I thought
his production was unbelievable.

Sonny's one of the hardest-
working people I've ever met.

I think he's...

The most important person
in electronic music

since the 2000s.

He basically took the punk:

"I don't give a fuck, I'm doing
whatever I want" wild attitude

to everyone.

And I think it was just
exactly what the American rave

and music crowd in general was craving.

♪ Bangarang ♪

♪ You feel the ♪

♪ Bangarang ♪

The sound really resonated with those kids

and the kids who didn't want
to be so mainstream

all of a sudden,
they had an alternative now.

Well, he stood out to me
because he was from America

and he had a different swagger

than everyone else that was doing dubstep.

Someone coming from rock and roll

and then diving into dance music
on a level that he did.

When Skrillex stepped up, it was like,

"I'm gonna do what I'm doing",
kind of thing.

That became the start
of the DJ rock star phase.

♪ Shout to all my lost boys, we rowdy ♪

Skrillex has got the talent

and the amazing production levels,

and also he's a fucking star.

One of the most talented producers

that we've seen from bass music.

You know, you can't deny
the guy's work ethic,

dedication to making sure

that he's the best he can possibly be.

This kid is phenomenal.

He was the best producer

and then everyone was laughing at him

for DJing on Ableton instead of CDJs,

and then he became the best fucking DJ.

He's like, "Oh, you guys
are laughing at me

for not being able
to use Pioneers. Fuck y'all."

He took the top spot.

He took the number one spot.

For forever.

♪ Shout to all my lost boys ♪

♪ Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh,
shout to all my lost boys ♪

♪ Bangarang ♪

One week it was me,

I could have the number one track.

The next week it could be Skream.

And then you could have
Caspa and Rusko, Doctor P,

Excision.

Every week, someone could
come out with that new banger.

And that could take the scene by storm

and be the guy
that everyone's talking about.

And you could lose it just as quickly ,

as soon as someone else
makes that next banger.

What Sonny did when he stepped up

he took that so far away,

from that kid in the bedroom.

It started off that number one spot

was accessible to the kid in the bedroom

and I feel like he expanded
what was possible

as an electronic music producer, as a DJ,

so quickly and so far

that it made it really hard for
anyone to catch up, basically.

He was doing something that no one
could compare him to at the time,

and people don't like change,

they don't like something different,

they don't like something new
until they do.

Then, from that,
everyone's like, "Oh, crap.

Now we need to sound like this."

Then the bar was exponentially raised.

Even though the word Skrillex
was pissing me off at the time,

I was like, "Yo, we know this guy's sick,

but we don't have to mention it."

I was hearing his name 20 times a day

and I was in a different city every day.

Too many people just followed suit.

The problem was it was the domino effect

of everyone trying to sound like him

and I think that's what ruined everything.

It wasn't necessarily him
or a certain sound

cos no one else was doing that sound.

It was everyone else who copied it.

When it went to America

and people like Skrillex
took it to another level,

I think it's a good thing
because things have to evolve.

Things have to move on.

As somebody who puts something
out in the public domain

for people to enjoy and listen to,

you've got to understand
that people are gonna

take it, twist it, manipulate it
and make it their own.

That's what we do.
That's what we did.

We'd always strive to get the sound

as big and spread as wide as possible,

so I could never understand why
people were so angry about it.

I weren't angry about it. I was like,
"Fair play." We did it to garage.

I get it, man. There was a moment where
you'd turn on a Target commercial

and I remember seeing a fake "Bangarang".

Dubstep changed everything.

It wasn't pop music, it changed everything

and this is what people don't comprehend.

It changed everything.

Just the sound was everywhere.

Just like you see anything,
like anything that blows up.

It changed daytime radio,
it changed festival line-ups.

It changed everything.

We went from room three to room one.

And then what was in room one
was now in room three.

By the music being propped up

all the people that were
sniffing out money and fame

kind of went to it

and started writing music
that sounded like dubstep,

but didn't feel like it.

It just flipped the script.

That's why I think
everyone got sick of it.

Listen, attention now.
It all sound sick.

Level of production, bass noise,
manipulation, mix down

banging!

I probably couldn't tell you
who wrote what.

The cyclone happens

and there's all these things
that are important in the centre

and all this other shit gets swept in

and it's hard to tell what's
what anymore, it's everywhere.

When electronic music
and dance music gets pushed

to the mainstream, that's what happens.

People who don't care about
the music start writing it.

And they start writing it badly.

That's why it's important, I think,
not to be attached to too much

at the end of the day,
cos it's out of your control.

We had the two or three-year period

where people became
disconnected with dubstep.

And I think it got told that it was cool

and then it had that taken away from it.

And then it did everything
it could to stay cool

and then failed.

The worst thing about
everything with the change

was some fucking stupid Sun journalist

who quoted me saying "dubstep's dead"

and people still believe I said it.

They put me on a cover, it was a cartoon,

and it was a bomb
and it said "U.S. dubstep"

and I was raging on the thing.

It was very obvious.

It was like they Donald-Trump-dubstepped
me. I was that image.

It was like, "Let's make this
super hyper American thing."

I was, "Borgore ruined dubstep"
cos everyone said I ruined it.

So I was like, "Fuck it, I'll ruin it.

I'm going with it."

The Guardian called me "the most
hated man in electronic music".

I was doing an interview with him

and I coated him off, basically.

I'm sorry, Sonny.

After, I was like, "Fuck you guys.

Why am I going to sit here and talk to you

as if you have some real questions

and you already have the title
of this story pre-planned."

The headline "Skream says dubstep's dead",

I still stand by it.
No, I didn't say it.

I was sad, like, this is journalism now.

They don't really care
about the real story.

They don't want to hear what
we're talking about now.

I remember seeing all this stuff and
people hating what Skrillex was doing.

But he just did his thing and kept going

and for me, that was
a huge, huge inspiration

for me to keep going,
to see other people try things

and get backlash,
but keep moving through it.

I don't know, I think especially in the UK

people saw Skrillex
as the Antichrist in dubstep.

People are very much still on their
"Dubstep is underground."

It shouldn't be Americanised

and it shouldn't be turned into
this other thing."

To me, dubstep still is
what was happening in Croydon

in South London at that time.

The kind of dubstep I was used to

was more spaced out,
focused on the low-end bass.

The dub element had gone, completely left.

And I thought that was always,
for me, the basis of the tracks.

The original sound of dubstep,

that tribal,
that progressive rolling style,

it kind of just fizzled out.

What do you mean?

Type in "dubstep" and
the first thing that'll pop up

will be the thing
that's got the most views.

And that would be the American scene.

So that just completely dwarfed us.

We was nothing all of a sudden.

So we'd gone from earning
this big money every month

to boom, everything just dropped for us.

I ended up with a bad drug addiction.

I was doing a lot of coke,

drinking a hell of a lot,
smoking a lot of weed,

not sleeping a lot.

Being that person for so many years

affected my career.

It affected my family.

When you're there,
when you're in that game,

it's a lonely game.

You're doing the drugs,
you're doing the drink.

When you come off that stage,

you either party

or you go on your own to your hotel room,

think, "I've got a flight
tomorrow, I'll be sensible."

It never works that way.

What do you do?
Go back to the hotel,

you act the fool.

And that happened for fucking years, mate.

That happened for years.

And it burnt a lot of bridges.

I never really had no direction
how to control my career.

When I was in the record shop,

I had people that knew
about the music industry

like, if they was in my life for longer...

I think it would've been
a better direction for me.

I didn't feel like
I was enjoying myself anymore.

For me, when he decided

to stop doing the dubstep
and do the house thing,

I was like, "Cool.
Whatever you wanna do."

Skream leaving definitely is bad

for the dubstep scene as a whole.

But, at the same time, I respect it 100%.

What I'd say probably to anybody

that had anything negative
to say about Skream,

"If you haven't seen him
play a house set yet,

if you can honestly tell me

that he doesn't love it just as much,

then maybe you've got
the right to say something.

I've seen Skream play a number
of house sets over the years

and I don't see any difference in the way
he approaches it or the way he loves it.

The thing is, I'd been doing
one-off radio shows

playing disco or playing house or whatever

and I was getting so much
more excited about other things.

It made me feel like I was learning
again and starting again

and I felt buzzing
and excited to do things again.

I will always say

I don't think he should've took the
Skream name with the house thing.

He should've maybe with his real
name, Oliver Jones, and done it.

But the Skream thing for me
was so legendary in that name,

inside I was like, "Don't make
that music with that name."

It's too legendary.

When Skream switched
from dubstep to house music,

I didn't think it would work.

But obviously, Skream being Skream,
he's pulled it off.

It's actually incredible
because I can't think

of anyone else that's been able
to do that kind of move.

Sticking to who you are,
that has longevity.

Having a pre-planned vision
of what you're gonna be

and trying to emulate
what's hot right now,

that might make you really successful,

but I don't think I'd be able
to live with myself.

But sticking by your guns,
that's very respectable.

As an artist, if you get known
for a certain sound,

it's something that you loved
when you started making it.

But if you start to get bored,

you're not gonna make
good quality music anymore

because you've lost your passion
for that sound.

I feel like as an artist,
you need to constantly evolve.

I'd say that that is the mark of an artist

and I will say that he probably
had a couple of years

where he had to really be like,
"Am I sure about this?"

And sometimes the evolution
is a really big step.

You hear something
you wanna get involved in

or you have an idea,

and I guess you have
to piss some people off

to get to that next level of great music.

To me, it's leaving
everyone else in the dust,

and just go ahead and do what you wanna do
regardless of what anyone says anyway.

I think it's great what he's done

and what he did for the sound
is what we should be focusing on

rather than what he's not
doing now or whatever.

If anything,
that's the most honourable thing

that he could've done.

He's sticking true to himself

and he's doing what he believes
he has to do.

I'm sure there was a manager
in a room with Ollie

that was like, "What?"

"You don't wanna do dubstep anymore?"

Skream, he's done so much for dubstep

that you can never say to him,
"You can't come back."

It's like he's the ultimate golden boy.

Doesn't matter how long I've still
been doing it and he's not,

he's got so many tunes on his belt

and he's done so many things
for the music,

that's just what it is and that's a fact.

So he's always welcome back to make
a banger or two. We miss him.

What's happening?

- You alright?
- Hiya.

- Alright? What's happening?
- Always, bruv. Always.

That's Skream.

You're now seeing bass music producers

from the drum and bass scene,
from the dubstep scene

working with big major stars

from the U.S. hip-hop,
R&B, pop scene.

I called Will at 3am.

He goes, "What's wrong?
Who's dead?"

I'm like, "No one's dead.

But I think Snoop Dogg's just
messaged us on MySpace."

And then you get the likes of Doctor
P getting hollered by Will.i.am

cos he wants to know:
"How are you making that sound?"

Yeah, working with Will.i.am
was pretty cool.

It was interesting to be in
that completely different world.

It's interesting to see how many people

from the drum and bass scene
have infiltrated

these more major projects
beyond drum and bass

from producing pop records
with big artists

like Chase & Status and Rihanna.

I'm at home in bed
with my then girlfriend,

asleep at 5-6am or some shit.

My phone rings, I'm like, "Hello."

And he's like, "Saul, it's Jay."

"Hey, man. I've got someone
who wants to talk to you."

"Hello?" Then basically it's
Rihanna on the phone saying,

I can't do her accent
so I'm not gonna try,

on the phone saying, "Yo,
Saul, yeah? Chase & Status?"

I'm like, "Yep."

She goes, "Yeah,
I heard this record, love it."

"I need that track,
I need some more tracks."

Don't give anyone else these tracks."

And I was like, "No problem."

Pop culture starts to like,

"Ooh, what's going on over there?"

If the pop producers are going out

and they're partying and they're raving,

they want to try and replicate it.

But sometimes you've got
to go to the source, you know?

And use our guys.

Flux, who was a lovely fella

that used to go to Hatfield University,

and he's doing tunes with Kanye and Jay-Z.

My mind is blown.

Flux Pavilion producing for Kanye,

for Jay-Z, for Roc Nation.

You look at Flux
working with Childish Gambino.

Kanye and Jay-Z
picked up on "I Can't Stop".

With Jay-Z and Kanye
willing to use the track,

I wasn't sold at first.

Dom C, who was
their right-hand man called us

and said, "Is it OK
if we use 'I Can't Stop'?"

Do I really wanna give my track

that's come from my little chaos bubble

to a bunch of pop stars?

Is that selling out?

I wasn't particularly on board
with the idea

of working with any pop stars
or anything to begin with.

That felt like selling out to me.

And then I was in New York
with Skrillex in a club.

The DJ just kept
dropping record after record

and I remember one of them,
I turned to Sonny,

I was like, "Who's this?"
He was like, "Kanye."

I was like, "Oh, shit."

Next one, "Who's this?"
He's like, "Kanye."

I was like, "This is really good."

"Who's this one?" "Jay-Z."

Hearing the music in the context

of where it was meant to be heard

and where it had been created,
the place it'd really come from,

I was like, "Shit, Jay-Z and Kanye.

They're not pop stars.
This is wild."

And then to get the stems to that track,

my friend had to break down my door,

cos I was away, and open up my computer,

and he couldn't bounce the stems
cos they kept crashing,

every time he tried to open the project.

So, one minute Jay-Z and
Kanye West are sitting there,

waiting for the stems to this project

and then on the other side of the world

my mate at uni, drunk,
is breaking into my room

trying to get the sounds off the computer.

Then Radio one put it on the A List.

And at that point,
I started getting an influx

of people telling me I'd sold out.

And that was the day that I gave
up on the idea of selling out.

Cos I was like, I wrote a track
that no one really liked

and then people started to like it

and then it got played on radio

and throughout all of this

it's been the exact same MP3.

Exact same piece of music,
nothing's changed

from something that no one liked at all

to Radio one A List.

And it really opened my eyes
to musical culture.

And to think...

Just because someone is
really big and popular...

It doesn't mean it's not a great record

that's been written with passion.

♪ I can't stop ♪

♪ Stop, stop, stop, stop ♪

♪ I-I can't-can't stop,
stop, stop, stop, stop ♪

♪ I can't stop, stop, stop, stop, stop ♪

I think it's cool that Skrillex and Diplo

are doing pop productions

by using those dubstep and EDM sounds.

I think I'd rather have them doing it

than someone ripping them off.

I thought that whole
"Jack Ü" album was really good.

I thought they did something
absolutely perfect at the time.

That's funny too cos
"Where Are Ü Now" is a dubstep,

almost like a throwback
kind of like skanking lil' drop.

But obviously what they were
doing with that album

is underground and pop crossover.

That was obviously their concept.

It's like them doing their sound

with some of the top vocalists
in the world.

So it's like, "Why not?"

♪ I need you the most ♪

♪ I need you the most ♪

♪ I need you the most ♪

I think that underground music
is always gonna contain

the soul of what people wanna hear.

But now the hip-hop producers,

they know they want better.

They don't just want the same thing .

They want the next thing ,

so, of course, that's why
they're going to the people

like the Pendulums and the Chase & Status

and the Doctor P and the Flux Pavilions.

You know what?
The tempos as well.

140 and 174, well, 170-174,

if you listen to most things now,

are the predominant tempos
of most big pop records.

And regardless of what people say,

it all stems back here.

And I just think it's amazing.

I'm really proud of the fact
that our music

has gone into mainstream

and has influenced the evolution of music.

♪ Something like... ♪

Hearing house music or electronic music

on a day-to-day basis

was something
I never thought would happen

when I started off in music.

Even though I loved electronic music,

I didn't think it'd ever happen,
but I was wrong.

Even I sometimes, I could be
in a café somewhere,

and like, "What's this?
Drum and bass."

I'll say, "That's drum and bass.
They play drum and bass here."

It was incredible to hear that
house, how fast that spread.

It's literally everywhere.

It's on the Apple cell phone
commercials, bass music.

It's on everything.

You listen to TV adverts,
you listen to movies.

On video games, FIFAs to fighting games,

to Need for Speeds
and all that kind of stuff.

You can turn the TV on now

and I guarantee you every TV advert,

you will hear little bits
of our stuff in it.

The Olympics to football games,

UFC.
Everywhere, basically.

You look at "How To
Get Away With Murder".

Mr Parkes, the infamous Photek.

Photek is multiple Grammy-nominated

as a remix and producer
from the drum and bass scene.

He's now winning ASCAPs and BMI awards

for film scoring.

Making an album a week
making that soundtrack.

Winning awards, it's amazing.

Getting these ASCAP awards and BMI awards,

it's a little different

in terms of its validation.

ASCAP and the BMI awards

are based off commercial sales, basically.

It's based off the amount of money
the productions are making.

So, for me, coming from drum and bass,

and it's all about what people reckon

to just hardcore "better make
a shit-ton of money".

I kind of like that validation.

It's got nothing to do with
even how good I was

at what I was doing.

It's just that my skillset
makes money for other people.

That's been the last thing
on my mind my whole life,

is how much money
my skillset in music makes.

It's like the last thing ever,
but now I get awards for that.

It's the complete flipside of that coin.

I'm amused and excited

when I hear drum and bass pop up
in a commercial or in a movie

or some random background clip,
like a radio drop, or whatever.

- But...
- But...

- But...
- But at the same time...

No one wants to go
to the source a lot of the time.

Come on, guys. Clearly you're making beats
that emulate what we're experts at

and we're all fans.

This is a no-brainer.
We'd be there in a minute.

On another note, you've got Skrillex.

Won five Grammys.

Gets up and you're like, "Five Grammys?

Absolute gangster.
What a legend."

Next thing you know, you're watching it.

Not only did he win five Grammys,

he then gets up on stage

does his shout-outs, does his thank yous,

and then he takes time to thank
Croydon and the Croydon people.

For best remix recording, non-classical

the nominees are:
Sonny Moore, Afrojack,

Photek, Abel Aguilera
& Ralphi Rosario, deadmau5.

And the Grammy goes to...

Sonny Moore for "Cinema, ".

There's a lot of people that have been
here before us doing what we've been doing.

I think Justice's "Cross"
should've won a Grammy

I think Daft Punk should've won Grammys,

but it's cool that now, this year it's
gonna open doors for everyone.

There's labels out there that have
been doing what we've been doing

for a long time like Dub Police and
Never Say Die and the list goes on.

All the Croydon dub guys
that started this all in 2003.

It's crazy.

I mean, this is...

I remember talking to Dieselboy one day.

He was telling me that all the boats
rise with the water, so this is cool.

I'm gonna stop talking now.
Thank you, guys.

We flew in to London

and I'd been on a group chat.

It was Flux, Doctor P and SKisM.

And I'd never met
any of those guys in real life.

We grabbed beers and walked around London

and it was surreal, being with these guys.

These guys were gods to me back then.

- Thank you, guys.
- Thank you very much.

Cheers.

We ended up going
to an Example show that night

and then I met Skream backstage.

And there was a bar backstage,
we were having some drinks

and Skream had this whistle
he was blowing like

in people's faces.

And he was so nice to me, man,
and this is when I started...

By the way, I didn't know about
this hate culture

when it comes to dubstep.

I didn't know the online culture.

Whatever was coming out was just
everything I was hearing in my life.

So that's when I started hearing:

"Oh yeah, these people in London,
don't fuck with what I'm doing."

So, I heard Skream was there,
I was almost a little nervous.

And it was the opposite.
He was so loving.

He was like, "Dude, what you're doing

is taking it to the next level."

And he was like, all these compliments,

it was such a sweetheart.

And a lot of
these other dubstep guys, Caspa,

and people I already mentioned
were always super supportive.

The only thing I don't like
about all that shit

is when people speak for me
when I didn't say anything.

I never came in

trying to take a genre
away from anybody or change it.

I was making what I made

and I think in defence of even that

is like, "Dude, you can't be
precious about anything."

- You know?
- Yeah, yeah.

That's a remix with the band.

I lost myself for quite some years

to addiction and stuff.

- Yeah.
- Lost a lot of friends.

And I wasn't really
being the person I could be

till quite recently.

I phoned up a few people, made amends

for shit I'd fucked up over years.

It takes...
Man, for someone to say that.

There are people out there
that can't even say that.

Yeah.

I can admit I was wrong.

Those are the moments, when you can
really admit that you did wrong

and make amends, where you actually grow.

You know, still working hard.

Clearing up a trail of disaster
to a certain extent

over the last few years,

but it makes us stronger, right?

♪

There's no one bigger than the music.

It wasn't dubstep to me,
it was electronic music to me.

Call it whatever you want.
Bass music, EDM.

Whatever genre,
they don't mean anything to me.

It was bigger than all that

and it was a way I could be myself again.

It's a release, it's a way out.

It's a sound and it's a feeling.

Anything with a pure thing

that comes from something so pure and real

is gonna have the sort of Godfathers

or the guard.

These guys, whether we want
to admit it or not,

were part of the music industry already

just doing their thing on the side.

And now, it is the music industry.

We've set the trends,
always, always, always.

We never follow, we always lead.

The importance of this music is seen

by the tens of thousands of
people that are out every week.

The huge stars that you see now

producing mainstream pop acts.

Call it pop, call it whatever you want,

it comes from DJ culture,
it comes from electronic music.

The impact is global.

The influence is...

You can't calculate the influence.

You know what I mean?

Cos foundation and underground
is cool, right?

Everybody wants to resonate with that

and our music is that,
always has been, always will be.

So it's not just what
we've influenced up to now,

it's what we're gonna influence
going forward.

As long as people are talking about it,

as long as people are playing it
and still enjoying it,

then I believe that
it won't ever disappear.

Now we're in a new resurgence of
dubstep cos that bit's over,

and the only people that are left writing
dubstep are the people who believe in it.

All the kings need
to take their crowns back

and start saying, "This is the new wave.

Do something different.
Change it."

And the true innovators
and kings of that shit

will rise again.

And the kings will rise again.

There was no one before.
There weren't.

There's been a lot after,
but there's no one before.

It's in my fucking blood, man.

I'll make 140 again at some point.

And I'll do it and
I'll come with something

that'll fucking hopefully blow
people's heads off.

And I'll do it and
I'll come with something

that'll fucking hopefully blow
people's heads off.

And so is this.

When I played EDC, it was nostalgic.

That was the charm of it.
It was nostalgia.

Loads of people messaging,
"People won't appreciate it, da-da-da-da."

Half the people probably
never heard the songs before.

That's the thing.
It's a lot of kids.

That was one of the main driving
forces of me doing it

is that I could stand there
and play them tunes with pride

to people who ain't heard 'em before.

Some had, but a lot hadn't.

We didn't mean to do this.

We was just doing what we loved.

Dubstep took three years
to change the world

where drum and bass
had been trying for years.

I think it was in that moment of
renaissance we were experiencing.

Dubstep changed everything

and this is what
people don't really comprehend.

It changed everything.

If you listen to most things now

are the predominant tempos
of most big pop records.

It's literally everywhere.

Grammy goes to...

And the Grammy goes to...

And the Grammy goes to...

- Sonny Moore!
- Skrillex and Diplo!

Skrillex, come back.

Regardless of what people say,
it all stems back here.

♪ We can fight our desires ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ But when we start making fires ♪

♪ I'm going in for the kill ♪

♪ I'm doing it for a thrill ♪

♪ Oh, I'm hoping
You'll understand ♪

♪ And don't let go of my hand ♪

♪ I'm going in for the kill ♪

♪ I'm doing it for a thrill ♪

If you were to go out

and take away everything
that's influenced by urban music

and bass culture,

it's a bit of a blank canvas
you're looking at.

♪ I'm going in ♪

♪ I'm doing it ♪

♪ Oh, I'm hoping you ♪

♪ Will understand ♪

♪ I'm doing it ♪

♪ Oh, I'm hoping you ♪

♪ Will understand ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

It's over.

I feel tore up.

♪ Light trails behind me ♪

♪ Looking back's a waste of time ♪

♪ Let's push things forward ♪

♪ And keep our heads held high ♪

♪ Time's passed, we've laughed ♪

♪ We chose new paths ♪

♪ We both ♪

♪ Got so much room to grow ♪

♪ Got so much room to grow ♪

♪ It's all we have ♪

♪ But I know we can ♪

♪ We both ♪

♪ Got so much room to grow ♪

♪ Got so much room to grow ♪

♪ Cos we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Gonna turn into something great ♪

♪ We don't care about past mistakes ♪

♪ Cos we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Yeah, we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Gonna turn into something great ♪

♪ We don't care how much it takes ♪

♪ Cos we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Our own way ♪

♪ Our own way, our own way our own way ♪

♪ Our own way ♪

♪ Our own way ♪

♪ Cos we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Gonna turn into something great ♪

♪ We don't care about past mistakes ♪

♪ Cos we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Our own way our own way, our own way ♪

♪ Our own way ♪

♪ Our own way ♪

♪ Cos we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Gonna turn into something great ♪

♪ We don't care about past mistakes ♪

♪ Cos we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Yeah, we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Gonna turn into something great ♪

♪ We don't care how much it takes ♪

♪ Cos we're doing this our own way ♪

♪ Our own way ♪