THE LEWISHAM LEDGER AUGUST/SEPTEMBER 2018 15MUSIC14 MUSIC

hink of the capital’s sound system history and Notting Hill Carnival will probably spring to mind, along with Brixton’s rich

reggae connections. But Lewisham is equally as vital in

the story of UK sound system culture: the borough has been home to many of the nation’s most revered sound systems and a hotbed of innovative reggae music, artists and record labels.

In the lead-up to Carnival – and in the year when the Windrush generation are being celebrated – it is an important history to tell, and one that continues to echo through the streets of Lewisham to this day.

“Blues parties” were house parties held by the newly arrived West Indian community in the 1950s and 60s, and UK sound systems can be traced directly back to the equipment used to play music at these gatherings.

They were somewhere to listen to music from home that couldn’t be heard in mainstream clubs, as well as getting around the racist “colour bar” that meant non-white faces were not welcome in many music or social venues.

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From Jah Shaka to Saxon Studio International, some of the UK’s most revered sound systems have called Lewisham home. We chart the borough’s rich links to the sound system scene, from the blues parties of the 1950s to today

In 1977, the “battle of Lewisham” – an attempt by the National Front to march from New Cross to Lewisham – was halted by groups working in solidarity against fascism and racism.

The Lewisham 21 Defence Committee was established to support 21 young black men who’d been arrested in the run-up to the march, as were other counter-racism groups such as the All Lewisham Campaign Against Racism and Fascism.

In 1981 the horrific New Cross fire killed 13 people aged between 14 and 22 (one survivor committed suicide two years later) and was found to have been started from inside the house, either by accident or deliberately. No one has ever been charged.

A historic demonstration took place following the incident: the Black People’s Day of Action, assembling on Clifton Rise, protested against the indifference of the police and wider society to the victims of the fire.

In a poignant political and cultural moment, thousands gathered to protest against racist violence and police inaction, marching from Lewisham to Hyde Park.

This coming together is something the borough’s sound system community continues today. Young Warrior – son of Jah Shaka and operator of his own sound system – grew up here and created a monthly family gathering called the Reggae Garden Party – a child-friendly reggae sound system event. “It was loved and grew massively,” he says. Young Warrior still holds these events at The Albany in Deptford.

Soft Wax also continues the area’s long tradition via the Deptford Dub Club. Performers include Gladdy Wax, whose sound system is one of the longest running at Notting Hill Carnival. There’s also Danny Dread (part of Jah Shaka’s crew and now Young Warrior’s), figures from the punk/reggae crossover of the 1970s, like Tessa Pollitt of The Slits, and visiting artists from Jamaica – keeping up the strong musical link between Lewisham and the island.

Lez and Les say the youthful spirit of 1970s-80s sound systems also lives on through grime and spoken word artists. “They are very rooted in reggae and in sound systems,” says Lez.

Youth clubs have been replaced by virtual worlds where the young claim space and create their own subcultures. “What’s being used [spaces, technology] changes through time, but the process is the same.”

For Les, it’s vital we remember Lewisham’s sound system culture. “It was about experiencing a different sense of what London is, what Lewisham is. A different sense of the world. What happened when the lights went down and the sound system boxes were strung up...”

Pictured above: Jah Shaka at Deptford’s Albany Empire in 1984Above right: his son Young Warrior

Nitty Gritty, performed there. Childers Street Youth Club in Deptford was another popular sound system venue.

These hubs rubbed shoulders with local record stores and recording studios, run by key players on the reggae and sound system scene.

Jamaican artist and producer Joe Gibbs had a record shop at 29 Lewisham Way, and Lez recalls buying his first reggae records – Count Prince Miller’s Mule Train and Dave and Ansell Collins’ Double Barrel – in Lee’s Sound City Records in Catford.

The shop’s later site at 494 New Cross Road housed a recording studio, and released records for Jamaican reggae singer Winston Groovy and reggae disco outfit the Blood Sisters.

Mad Professor set up his 1980s Ariwa Sounds studio – now renowned for producing deep roots reggae – on Gautrey Road in Nunhead. It was a hub for reggae recordings by artists like Ranking Ann (known for A Slice of English Toast and for protesting against police stop-and-search powers), Peter Culture and Jah Shaka.

Eve Studios on Upper Brockley Road was also pivotal. The Lover’s Rock label had its origins there, with Dennis Bovell – a Barbados-born reggae guitarist, bass player and producer who was a key figure in the lover’s rock genre – living above.

“They’d have auditions here,” says Les, standing outside the building, where the imprint of the old studios can still be seen in the basement. “Kids from the youth club would walk around and go down into the studio. They cut I’m in Love with a Dreadlocks by Brown Sugar down there, with a 15-year-old Caron Wheeler.” Caron would go on to become lead singer in Soul II Soul, with Jazzie B.

Reflecting on why Lewisham had such a dynamic music scene, Lez says: “It was the concentration of African-Caribbean people, that’s what it was.” This, coupled with lots of spaces to use for dances, created the perfect place for music to blossom.

Lez and Les say this was stopped in its tracks when the Thatcher government began shutting youth clubs – the life blood of Lewisham’s music scene – and introduced volume limits at live venues.

The police also began raiding dances and there was a violent raid of a Jah Shaka dance on Malpas Road in Brockley in 1975. “They mobilised against all forms of working class expression, and we got caught up in that,” says Lez of the authorities.  

It wasn’t just central government that wanted to stamp out black spaces: violent racism was rife during this golden age of sound system culture. Some of the darkest examples of this took place in Lewisham borough, but so did some of the most strident acts of resistance against it.

after a famous storm that devastated Jamaica in 1951.

Lez MCed with Saxon here on New Year’s Eve in 1981, alongside Papa Levi and Maxi Priest. He says the sound system was groundbreaking in taking their cues from life in London rather than Jamaica.

Les – who attended dances and carried boxes for Saxon and other sound systems – says: “What the lyrics were saying – it was a version of the world you didn’t hear anywhere else.”

This could be anything from familiar bus journeys to more serious, topical subjects. “This was so significant in the development [of sound system culture],” says Les. “And it was happening right here in Lewisham.”

This local phenomenon reached a worldwide audience and had an impact on sound systems back in Jamaica. Lez says: “When the Papa Levi style hit Jamaica, it revolutionised the way the Jamaicans chatted.”

When Lez visited Jamaica in 1985 he heard MCs chatting his own styles, and Sugar Minott – a Jamaican reggae singer from Kingston – released a track called Lover’s Rock.

It was a style of music popular in the UK and was also the name of a Lewisham record label, demonstrating further how music here was feeding back into sound system and reggae culture in Jamaica. Lez says American acts like Busta Rhymes and Shinehead were also influenced by the style.

According to Lez and Les, the boom in Lewisham’s sound system and reggae scene in the 1970s and 80s was inextricably linked to the proximity of all the vital ingredients – youth

arrived from Jamaica with his parents in the 1950s and went to school in Brockley, set up his own, now legendary, sound system in the early 1970s. By the end of the decade he had a large, loyal following, drawn to his combination of spiritual content, high energy rhythms, massive vibrations and dynamic personal style.

His fans included many pioneers of post-punk, such as Public Image Ltd and The Slits. In the early 1980s Shaka also set up a shop selling records and dread paraphernalia in New Cross.

Another sound system founded in Lewisham in the 1970s was Saxon Studio International, whose “fast chat” style was pioneered by DJ Peter King. Saxon MCs included Tippa Irie, Smiley Culture and Papa Levi. They all released records, with some achieving Top 40 hits.

Reggae fusion singer Maxi Priest – born in Lewisham to Jamaican parents – also began his musical career with Saxon, before going on to work with artists like Shaggy, Jazzie B and Shabba Ranks. The majority of this new generation hadn’t ever been to Jamaica, so they wrote about what they knew: south-east London.

Lez Henry and Les Back are London university academics who met in New Cross in the early 1980s via the sound system scene. They are making a “reggae map” of the area’s significant places, people and events.

Lez – AKA Lezlee Lyrix, who is also a poet and MC – ran his own sound system called Ghettotone. “They used to have dances here every week,” says Lez, standing outside 51 Lewisham Way, dubbed “51 Storm” by locals

What the lyrics were saying – it was a version of the world you didn’t hear anywhere else

under the radar into mainstream UK consciousness and venues. Soft Wax says Lewisham borough was central to this shift, as reggae sound systems started playing in its clubs and pubs.

“The scene began to go more public as it was tied to other movements like the Mods,” he says. “The El Partido [at 8-10 Lee High Road] had a Duke Reid residency [not to be confused with the Jamaican record producer of the same name] and Neville the Enchanter played at the Amersham Arms.”

Also in Lewisham, the Freddie Cloudburst sound system played rocksteady, R&B, ska and reggae. A budding soundman cut his teeth as an operator for them: a young Jah Shaka. 

As sound systems shifted from domestic spaces like living rooms and basements into public venues, reggae was becoming a fixture in the British charts, and many of its leading figures lived and worked in Lewisham.

Desmond Dekker – who scored the UK’s first reggae number one in 1969 with his track Israelites – lived in Lee, Brockley and later Forest Hill, and Soft Wax recalls a gig in Catford where Jamaican singer-songwriter Prince Buster appeared in the crowd. “Major figures of the Jamaican music pantheon would just turn up at community events,” he says.

As reggae emerged into the mainstream and sound systems began playing commercial venues, the tech they used became more sophisticated; sound systems got bigger and louder.

By the 1970s, the voice of the community they stemmed from was getting louder too. Soft Wax says the children of the people who came from the Caribbean to Lewisham were less willing to put up with the racism and deprivation shouldered by their parents. It meant the music scene became bolder. “Many people concerned [in the 1970s and 80s] were now second generation,” he says. “[They] had been to school here, and were not as prone to compliance.”

Moving into this era – seen by many as the “golden age” of UK sound systems and reggae music – Lewisham remained at the centre of it all.

Following his “apprenticeship” with Freddie Cloudburst, Jah Shaka, who

clubs galvanising and inspiring young artists, record stores, record labels, recording studios and venues.

Lez attended the Lewisham Youth Club as a teenager. “We had big sound system dances and they did everything from black history to martial arts, but reggae was central,” he says. “Places like this – they were safe spaces.”

Les adds: “It’s important how close things were – it was a whole world. And it was a black world, hosted by black people. And that was really powerful and important.”

Other youth clubs and community centres were just as dynamic and vital, such as the Moonshot Centre in New Cross, which was a venue for reggae dances. At Arklow Road Community Centre, also in SE14, reggae sound systems played upstairs and some of the biggest names in reggae, including

Pictured left: Soft Wax and singer Setondji SpiritBelow: Les Back and Lez Henry

These parties had their origins in Jamaica, where they were big, public, open air events. In Britain however, it was often too cold and damp to dance outdoors, and families faced discrimination that meant hiring space was often impossible. Blues parties were therefore held in people’s homes.

Deptford Dub Club’s Soft Wax (AKA Steve McCarthy), who DJs dub, reggae and roots, is an expert on the music brought to Lewisham by people moving to the UK from the Caribbean. He recently held an exhibition at Poplar Union that recreated the living room of a Jamaican family set up for a traditional 1950s blues party.

Soft Wax says parties took place all over Lewisham, but exact addresses have not been recorded – mainly because the people holding them were mindful to remain under the radar.

He says that shockingly, arson attacks on houses hosting blues parties in south-east London were not uncommon, and that people feared repercussions from the authorities over selling food and drink at unlicensed premises (their homes).

During the 1960s however, Caribbean music began to move from