Commentary-
Inner City Pressure: The Story of Grime tells the story of the creation, development and success of the grime genre, covering a period from 2000 to the present. Within this period, we are able to identify the influences that created grime in a music sense but also that of cultural, economic and political change. The book doesn’t just focus on the music itself but also creates a wider image of the world around it that shaped the production of the genre, with multiple chapters straying away from the music. Throughout the book the author makes sure to focus on the three overriding themes within the genre: Authenticity, DIY culture and community.
Hancox’s book explains that grime music had an ‘exact point at which it arrived: in the new millennium, from mostly second or third-generation black Britons’ (p.38) going on to state that these Britons were ‘just estranged enough from their cultural roots in the Caribbean, or Africa… and far enough along the lineage of unique British dance styles- acid house, jungle, drum ‘n’ bass and UK garage’ (p.38). These precise factors meant that grime grew as an entirely new sound, with many describing it ‘as dazzlingly innovative, alien, ground-breaking and avant-garde’ (p.27). As well as the musical influences of the formation of grime, economic and social factors also played a huge part. Grime was formed in the East End of London with ‘the grime boroughs [being] ranked at 1, 2 and 3. A medal-winning podium of poverty’ (p.13). The author also goes on to state that the ‘East Ends underdog mentality, marginality, poverty and history of industrial squalor are all interconnected… that kind of grittiness is prominent in grime’s vernacular’ (p.16).
The study progresses through the development of the genre in chronological order, stating that the mainstream had always been against grime due to the ethnicity of the genre and the “violent” sound. This rejection by the mainstream resulted in the main themes of the genre with many taking more illegal routes to be herd, in the form of DIY pirate radio stations in the early 2000’s. The study states that ‘pirate radio in the grime era might be the last bastion of truly autonomous, urban working-class self-expression’ (p.81), These pirate radio stations didn’t just act as a way to get their voices herd, but also that of creating a tightknit community in an area of London where crime was always present. This community theme can be seen when Hancox’s states that ‘pirate stations effectively became the feeder stations and cultivation grounds- of new artists, DJ’s and entire genres’ (p.85). This first wave of grime pirate radio stations saw the rise of stations such as Rinse FM and Deja Vu FM, as well as the “godfather” of grime Wiley.
After the starting point of grime through the pirate radio stations, 2003 saw a new avenue for grime to explore, stating that, ‘kind of a TV equivalent of the pirates: Channel U was founded in 2003 to give a visual platform to grime’ (p.114) going to say that Channel U became ‘a staple part of the grime scene- and created a broader shared experience’ (p.115). This new experience saw artists such as Dizzee Rascal and Ms Dynamite become actual visible faces, not just voices, creating some of the first local grime celebrities within these East End boroughs of London.
However, 2005 saw the introduction of something that caused grimes life to be ‘choked off before it could even begin to flourish’ (p.170). The Metropolitan police created a “live music risk-assessment form” called a Form 696, this ‘gave them the power to determine whether an event might be a risk to public safety’ (p.170) This new form came into use just as grime began to grow into live performances at rave nights across London. Although a generic risk-assessment form, the true intentions were barely hidden, with Hancox’s stating that ‘one question on the eight-page version made it clear it was used for racial profiling: “is there a particular ethnic group attending? If “yes” please state group”’ (p.170). Another question asked what style of music was being played. These questions meant that the ‘Met began systematically monitoring, targeting and shutting down black music nights’ (p.171). This shutdown of grime as a genre stunted its growth causing many to quit, however after three years, grime found a way to re-emerge.
After years of ‘trying to refine a workable pop-grime formula’ (p.198), 2008 saw the start of grimes first wave of success. This was due to grime moving into a formula of ‘towering Ibiza electro-house synths, slower rapping and simple lyrics (p.200) with tracks such as ‘Bonkers’ by Dizzee Rascal and ‘Pass Out’ by Tiny Tempah. As well as grime changing, the mainstream had also started to change with old pirate radio hosts now in jobs within BBC radio, influencing radio DJs to play more grime. Although this initial success came in 2008, it would take until 2016 for grime to rise again with ‘‘That’s Not Me’ [Skepta] rejuvinat[ing] grime by taking it back to its roots’ (p.249). With more artists like Dave, Stormzy and AJ Tracy dominating the charts today.
Although it took grime around sixteen years to finally impact the mainstream music industry, it had actually acted as the voice for many of the people of London for a long time before. Hancox states that after the 2011 London riots many grime artists such as Skepta and Chuck D used their platforms to voice frustrations and speak for the people. Also, Grime artists political influences can again be seen in the 2017 election where ‘within a few days of the election announcement, a surprising cascade of endorsements followed, from grime MC’s and DJ’s instructing their followers to vote labour’ (p.282) This resulted in the gap between the conservatives and labour narrowing from 24% to just 2%. These two instances as well as many more, such as the Grenfell tower fire, has resulted in many seeing these grime figures as ‘the real prime ministers’ (p.290).
Finally, when it comes to the themes Hancox is trying to portray, it can be seen that grime is ‘built around a trinity of self-confidence, independence, and back-to-basics DIT aesthetic’ (p.255). This independence comes from the lack of industry influence of their music, with many refusing to sign with labels. Hancox’s sums this up when staying that ‘for all this DIY hustle and self-sufficiency, the artists weren’t operating in creative silos, working for themselves and themselves alone… [it was] a network of artists hanging out, endlessly collaborating and sharing ideas’ (p.265-266).
Critical Analysis-
When looking into the introduction of new music genres, Negus presents the idea that ‘new music and new cultural dialogues are made within the context of the possibilities provided by existing social relations…, technological means… and aesthetic conventions’ (Negus, 1996:138). These three contexts are central to Hancox’s study into grime, identifying that grime was created from its unique social position and technological access. Therefore, by using these three contexts as a framework, we can see how grime developed and thrived to mainstream success.
Hancox states that grime originates from the ‘East Ends underdog mentality, marginality [and] poverty… prominent in grime’s vernacular’ (Hancox, 2018:16). When talking about the aesthetic conventions, Negus states that it is the ‘complex of performance practices, bodily techniques and discriminations to select chords, sounds, notes [and] words’ (Negus, 1996:138), this therefore links to the vernacular used within grimes sound. Also, the idea of marginality stated by Hancox, is further explored when Wall notes that ‘its existence in the margins is seen as significant… because the performers introduced radically different forms of musicmaking’ (Wall, 2013:26).
In grime’s birth, the radical form of musicmaking can also be explained due to the social position and technological means, with Hancox stating that the children of grime were ‘just estranged enough from their cultural roots in the Caribbean, or Africa… and far enough along the lineage of unique British dance styles- acid house, jungle, drum ‘n’ bass and UK garage’ (Hancox, 2018:38). With this form of connection to past culture and sounds, it could be argued that these new artists are forms of Negus’ “pastichists”. When talking about this, Negus states that it ‘refers to those artists and performers who recognise that a new style has appeared… so include this in their style as yet another style to be performed’ (Negus, 1996:146). However, instead of the grime artists recognising new styles, they are looking into old styles.
Also, when identifying the technological means that formed grime, Hancox states that ‘they taught themselves and each other, [using software] to download illegal ‘cracked’ versions of simple music production software like FruityLoops Studio… the closest grime’s pioneers would come to a studio’ (Hancox, 2018:60). This links to the ideas of Negus with using the examples of ‘studio and instruments of music making’ (Negus, 1996:138) as his example of technological means.
Going back to the context of social relations stated by Negus, he uses the example of ‘industry organisation [and] the political arrangements’ (Negus, 1996:138). Both of these factors were central oppositions to grime’s evolution in the mid 2000’s with the industry resulting in grime creating pirate radio, and political arrangements with the police resulting in the Form 696. Hancox states that grime’s relationship with its community is at its heart, going on to argue that these artists are ‘the real prime ministers’ (Hancox, 2018:290). Therefore, when the industry refused to give grime a voice, they turned to forming pirate radio stations such as Rinse FM and Déjà Vu FM. When talking about radio, Wall notes that the ‘media of radio and sound cinema became the primary way that people heard music’ (Wall, 2013:58), and in grimes case it was also the primary way of expanding the genre. As Hancox states that ‘pirate stations effectively became feeder stations and cultivation grounds- of new artists, DJs and entire genres’ (Hancox, 2018:85). These pirate radio stations therefore allowed grime to survive in a time when the mainstream wouldn’t even take notice, until it reached a stage where the artists started to perform live.
The introduction of live grime performances is where oppositional political arrangements come into place. Wall argues that ‘popular music was often associated with fear of anarchy, and perceived as a challenge to social norms and the cultural status quo’ going on to state that ‘there have been numerous attempts by the state… to control popular musical forms and practices’ (Wall, 2013:67). This is exactly what happened in 2005 when the MET police introduced Form 696, which gave the police ‘power to determine whether an event might be a risk to public safety’ (Hancox, 2018:170). However, when in use it was actually a way to racially profile the audience with certain questions asking ‘is there a particular ethnic group attending?’ (Hancox, 2018:171). This oppression of an entire music genre has also been seen before within the rock genre, with Negus stating that ‘rock could be performed only by state-approved bands and performers’, resulting in bands ‘improvising performances on trailers or trucks in public places’ (Negus, 1997:152). This also occurred within grime with Hancox referencing a Skepta performance in a Shoreditch car park, stating ‘about a thousand young Londoners, summoned only by a social media announcement… no tickets, no guestlist, no VIP area, and no permit’ (Hancox, 2018:254).
As well as the political arrangements directed at grime as a genre, politics within London itself has also shaped the genre. Due to the lower classes within London not being listened to, it was up to the grime artists to create a voice for the masses. As Longhurst states ‘beyond simply telling stories, lyrics communicate discourses of artists’ identities, as well as reflecting and revealing cultural discourses surrounding them’ (Longhurst, 2014:166). This became prevalent during the 2011 London riots as Hancox states that ‘in remarkably speedy “breaking news” style, Britain’s MCs and rappers were putting it into words… a voice for the voiceless’ (Hancox, 2018:221). This political activism was then repeated in 2017 after the Grenfell tower fire, with Hancox again noting that ‘grime MCs were in the thick of its community, activity, amplifying calls for charitable donations’ (Hancox, 2018:290). These forms of activism ‘became a way of uniting audiences, artists and songs through a common sense of community’ (Negus, 1997:150).
When looking at grime’s eventual success, it could be easy to assume that it mirrored Frith’s ‘judgement that folk songs are more authentic than pop songs [being] the basis for the contrast between means of production (community creation v. commercial exploitation)’ (Frith, 2007/1981:33). With grime in the early days full of ‘guest cameos, collaborations and musical detours’ (Hancox, 2018:82). However, as it became more and more mainstream artists managed to avoid the “commercial exploitation” with them embracing the DIY culture, as well as carefully signing contracts that meant that the labels ‘would take care only of the distribution’ (Hancox, 2018:259), allowing for complete freedom in the creative process. Also, due to grime being built on community and even with today’s success, artists have ensured that they maintain this ideology of the genre with ‘networks of artists hanging out, endlessly collaborating and sharing ideas’ (Hancox, 2018:265-266).
Finally, reflecting on some of Hancox’s final thoughts and my own view of what the future holds for grime as a genre, I believe that over time grime will follow in the footsteps of many other genres, and become less authentic. This is not due to commercial exploitation or the faults of the artists themselves, but instead due to the rapidly changing urban environment that grime was born and forged within. As Hancox states ‘what does it mean when the places that produced it have changed beyond all recognition?... does [it] point to the suburbs as the future incubator of rebellious working-class music’ (Hancox, 2018:301). This idea of the “ends” that formed grime no longer existing, may also be mirrored in the original grime genre no longer existing, as grime is so focused on the areas and social conditions around it. Will these issues be solved with the relocation of the working-class? or will grime just evolve with new artists pouring their hearts out about the new issues that arise, becoming the second generation of politically forgotten music makers.
Bibliography-
Frith, S (2007/1981) ‘ ‘The Magic That Can Set You Free’: The Ideology of Folk and the Myth of the Rock Community’, in Taking Popular Music Seriously: Selected Essays. Aldershot: Ashgate, pp. 31-40.
Hancox, D (2018) Inner City Pressure: The Story of Grime. London: William Collins Press.
Longhurst, B (2014) ‘Text and Meaning’, in Popular Music & Society. Cambridge: Polity, pp. 157-189.
Negus, K (1996) ‘Histories’, in Popular Music in Theory. Cambridge: Polity, pp. 136-163.
Wall, T (2013) Studying Popular Music Culture. Los Angeles: SAGE.
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