Member-only story
A Love Letter to Drum & Bass
My Unapologetic Devotion to the Dark Side
House music was my first born, but Drum & Bass sits right at the core of me.
As a card-carrying house veteran who graduated through the sweat-dripping back room of Cream in Liverpool back in late 1993, I did my time on the altar of the four-by-four beat.
Don’t get me wrong, house is lovely. It’s warm, it’s euphoric, it’s almost gospel in its desperate bid to make you smile.
But if I’m honest? It’s just a bit too obvious.
It hands you the mood on a silver platter with a neat little vocal bow, telling you exactly how you ought to feel and when you ought to feel it.
I always preferred the shadows. Armand Van Helden tearing the roof off at the once a month Bugged Out, over a hands-in-the-air diva anthems.
I didn’t want polite, palatable joy.
I wanted grit, sub-bass, and a bit of real teeth.
Then came 2001. A campervan, the vast and unforgiving expanse of the Australian highway, zero smartphones, and zero outside interruptions. Just us, the open road, and a CD…
