How Jamaican soundsystem culture changed dance music forever

When the HMT Empire Windrush arrived on British shores in 1948 — Tilbury, Essex to be precise — no one could have predicted the reverberations it would have on Britain’s music culture. Though it wasn’t the first ship to bring Caribbean people to the UK, it was the first to land in Britain after the passing of the British Nationality Act of that year (the act that gave British citizen status to those who were colonial subjects). As such, it is often cited as a representation of the “arrival” of Caribbeans in the UK. The so-called Windrush Generation began to filter into Britain’s communities from 1948 onwards, this generation was mostly made up of islanders from the Caribbean.

Music has always been an intrinsic aspect of Caribbean life, closely linked to its social and cultural history. From calypso and soca, to jazz, soul, zouk, merengue and, of course, reggae, music is at the core of everyday life for millions of people in the Caribbean.

In Jamaica, the largest and most influential Caribbean island, soundsystems came to the fore in the late '40s. Poverty and social exclusion were behind the ingenuity that led to the birth of soundsystem culture. People in deprived areas had no access to live shows, and some couldn’t even afford their own radio. DIY soundsystems, built by hand, allowed people in the “ghetto” to innovate and broadcast their own music, fostering a sense of community and bypassing the radio, which was still under colonial rule back then.

Initially playing R&B from America, soundsystems evolved parallel to the development of Jamaica’s own unique sounds; rocksteady, ska and, by the late '60s, reggae. Pioneers like Tom Wong, Duke Reid and Sir Coxsone, were pivotal in building the foundations of soundsystem culture. These DIY set ups empowered people from deprived areas, inspiring them to employ advanced technical know-how, and their popularity soared as more and more people were inspired to build their own systems. Over time sound clashes emerged, as the competitive nature of Jamaicans fueled the desire to prove whose soundsystem was the best.

The blueprint of soundystem culture - speaker stacks, amplifiers, turntables, a DJ/selector, an MC and a dancefloor - was introduced to Britain by the Caribbean immigrants who arrived during the second half of the 20th Century. Finding themselves mostly alienated from mainstream clubs, and dealing with the day to day discrimination that was rife back then, many Caribbeans set about organising their own music events. These typically took the form of clandestine blues parties, where a soundsystem would be set up in someone’s living room, or basement. Just like the original soundystems back in Jamaica, there was a defiant element, giving islanders the chance to come together as a community in the face of ostracisation. One of the first soundsystems in the UK was founded by Duke Vin, an apprentice of Tom Wong. Sounds like TNT Road-Show, Rapattack, Touch Of Class, Beatfreak, Funkadelic Soul Sound, and Soul II Soul were among countless soundsystems that emerged in the '80s pushing rare groove, soul, funk, electro and early house. During the early years of acid house, Zepherin Saint’s Shock soundsystem was a key feature in Room Two at the legendary RIP at Clink Street. At Notting Hill Carnival powerhouse sounds like Rampage, Channel One and Aba Shanti-I, not forgetting the incomparable, highly revered Jah Shakal, brought the sounds of Jamaica to the streets of London.

The echoes of the past are still being felt today, as soundsystem culture - the physical template, as well as its social and cultural influence - continues to inspire the evolution of dance music in the UK. From jungle/drum ’n’ bass to garage, grime and dubstep, the spirit of Jamaican soundsystems is unmistakable and, just like reggae music itself, has translated to communities and cultures all over the world.

The notion of MCing has its foundations in soundsystem culture. From the formative stylings of '50s pioneer Count Matchuki, who was a selector who also got on the mic, through to Jah Stitch, King Stutt and, one of the most popular early mic men - U-Roy. These “deejays” as they were known, developed a craft known as toasting - entertaining the dance with a variety of vocal accompaniments to the music. From comedic commentary to boasting about their sound’s prowess, through to basic rhymes and singing, the art of toasting became an inherent part of soundsystem culture. Count Matchuki’s early forays occurred in the '50s, while U-Roy rose to prominence in the late '60s. During the next 30 years toasting evolved into MC culture and, by the time it was being integrated into the UK, a template, including MCs, had been formalised. In the '70s and '80s, soundsystems cropped up all over the UK, wherever a large Caribbean demographic had settled. From Sheffield (where my dad had his Kamasi-I soundsystem) to the Midlands, the West Country and London, these creative communal hubs were essential and MCs were a key part of the whole configuration. This is where we find the roots of British MC culture. As highlighted by several MCs who we spoke to for this piece, there was an early wave of MCs and sounds that inspired the first generation of dance music mic controllers. “Saxon, Coxsone, Volcano, Java, Unity soundsystem,” garage MC CKP, told us. “The MCs that I gravitated to were the ones that got the crowd hype and ones that had lyrics — Tippa Irie, Papa Levi, Rusty, Daddy Sandy, Demon Rockers, Flinty Badman, Navigator… guys who were on a soundman ting.” The Ragga Twins and Navigator (then known as Specky Ranks) were part of Unity Sound, while Tippa Irie, Papa Levi, Daddy Rusty and Daddy Sandy were from Saxon.

Fast forward to the '90s and jungle and garage replicate the soundsystem blueprint, MCs forming the key pillars of the emergent genres. Jungle preceded garage, which then gave birth to dubstep and grime, again following the same template. The '90s also saw the rise of dancehall in Jamaica. With its rawness and often “hardcore” lyricism, dancehall gained popularity with younger audiences and the resulting “sound tapes” (i.e. recordings of sound clashes) made their way across the world. MCs like Eksman credit these tapes with being influential in their own development, with dancehall icons like Bounty Killer, Buju Banton, Ninja Man, Beenie Man and Super Cat, among those who inspired a generation of MCs who grew up in the '90s. Not forgetting the hip hop and rap artists who also influenced the UK contingent. The roots of hip hop can also be partly attributed to soundsystem culture, again working from the same template.

On the subject of MCing comes the rewind, or reload. This sometimes polarising element of dance music culture comes directly from Jamaica. Nowadays, a reload comes from two equally high-energy sources: 1) a big tune gets played, and the crowd responds so emphatically that the DJ has to rewind it or 2) the MC gets so much hype, the DJ does a reload - this is most common in grime. The origin of the rewind has been linked to Ruddy Redwood and his mistake of picking up an instrumental version of what he thought was a vocal recording. In doing so, he is credited with accidentally “inventing the rewind”, pulling up the instrumental countless times when he debuted it, due to the response of the crowd.

In line with the evolution of toasting, the phrase “haul and pull up” came into popular use, with deejays hyping up the crowd by urging the selectors to rewind certain tunes - also, giving themselves more space to chat lyrics or communicate with the dance floor. Today, that phrase is still in use, along with “Who says rewind?”, “Pull up”, “Inch up”, “Take it back to the T-O-P” and more.

In 2025, rewinds are still in use across the world, by jungle and drum 'n' bass DJs, garage selectors and the dubstep and grime community, too. They often provide key energetic high points in sets, increasing the potency of a tune and giving the dancefloor a peak moment, followed by a chance to reset. Legend has it the iconic d'n'b tune ‘Pulp Fiction’ by Alex Reece got six rewinds the first time Fabio played it. Some DJs also incorporate rewinds, or spinbacks, into their mixing style, adding some dynamism to a transition. Love them or hate them, rewinds are crucial to British dance music - all thanks to soundsystem culture.

A novel development, inspired by this element of soundsystem culture, was that live bands at sound clashes would imitate a rewind at the request of whichever vocalist they were playing for. So, it became commonplace to see artists like Bounty Killer and Ninja Man perform with a live band and shout, “Wheel!” and the band to recreate a “rewind” sound with their instruments. This has been replicated very recently by The Outlook Orchestra, who incorporate a rewind of ‘Original Nuttah’ by Shy FX and UK Apache into their performance.

Ruddy Redwood’s first accidental play of an instrumental gave way to a new avenue in reggae, the advent of the dub. From straight up instrumentals to the scientific warping effects employed by pioneers like King Tubby, Scientist and Lee “Scratch” Perry, dub reggae and its potency has traveled far and wide, influencing dance music in a myriad ways.

The innovative methods used by Tubby, Scientist and Scratch especially helped form the groundwork for a multitude of styles within electronic music. Echo delays, reverbs, and a production technique predicated on emphasising space in the music can be heard in balearic beat, house music, jungle and drum 'n' bass, garage and, of course, dubstep and dub techno - its most closely linked offspring. Dubs started to feature heavily in house music in the '90s. One of the most infamous producers of dub versions is Marc Kinchen, AKA MK, whose “MK Dubs” were prevalent throughout the house scene in the States and in London, where garage pioneers were playing his music in their sets.

In a similar vein came the remix, which stems from early experimentation with stripping out vocals and creating new versions of existing recordings. This deconstruction, and reconstruction, of music formalised a technique that set the bar for a whole new way of creating music.

In the formative era of the late '60s and early '70s, the remix was developed in Jamaica and later adopted by American artists like Tom Moulton and Walter Gibbons, who inspired DJs like Larry Levan at Paradise Garage. Today, remixes are the norm, with countless EPs featuring alternate versions of the main track, or remix LPs with all-star lineups commissioned to rework an entire album.

Dubplates are synonymous with Jamaican music. Coming from the pioneer of dub music, King Tubby. The idea of having one-off specials gave soundsystems, and their selectors, extra artillery when they were clashing. A sure sign of a system’s prowess was the amount of dubs they could draw on. Getting a prominent artist to record a special version of their famous tune - insulting the opposition or boasting about the sound their dub is representing - was vital for sound clash victory.

In jungle and drum 'n' bass dubplates were less focused on the clash element and more on the exclusivity. The best-known DJs could get hold of fresh new tunes before anyone else and would often form close relationships with key producers to get their music on dub. DJs like Randall, Grooverider, Jumpin Jack Frost and many more, would sometimes be the only ones to play certain tunes on dub before anyone else had them. With these exclusives in their arsenal, the DJs galvanised their already high status on the DJ circuit. This carried on through to garage, grime and dubstep. Cutting houses, where the dubplates would be “cut” onto acetate by engineers, were key hubs for the genres. Infamous spots like Music House and JTS would be where DJs and producers would connect with one another. Stories of the bigger DJs jumping the queue are widespread - something the lesser known DJs had to take on the chin.

As touched on earlier, sound clashes started to become common after the initial development of soundsystems. Driven by the competitive spirit inherent in Jamaican culture, clashes are the catalyst behind a whole host of creative innovations, including dubplates and the remix.

To put it simply, a clash is a friendly contest between two soundsystems, or two artists - as it was later on in dancehall. The clash has rules, which are generally rooted in respect for one another. Insults and bravado are part of the whole show, but nothing below the belt. David Rodigan tells a story in his book Rodigan: My Life In Reggae where his opponent, in desperation, brought up Rodigan’s skin colour, lowering the tone and breaking the unspoken rules of the clash.

Clashes get heated, but contestants are expected to maintain respect at all times. The language and lyrics can often be violent, especially on the dubplates that get produced, but they are metaphorical. The term “kill a sound boy” means to defeat the soundsystem, not to literally kill them. To an outsider not familiar with the terminology and culture of clashing, it can seem a lot more combative than it actually is. Saxon emerged as one of the UK’s most fearsome clashing sounds back in the '80s, and their prowess remains the stuff of legend up until today.

Clashes have been particularly prominent in grime. Going back to the days of Wiley VS Kano in Jammer’s basement for Lord Of The Mics 1, to Chipmunk VS Bugzy Malone, clashing and that competitive energy has been part of grime DNA from day one.

The Red Bull Culture Clash took this concept and utilised it to pit representatives of different genres against each other. In 2010 at The Roundhouse, Shy FX, as part of the Metalhaedz soundsystem, pulled out a dubplate version of 'On A Mission' where Katy B dissed Skream and Benga’s sound - even though Benga produced the tune in the first place. This planted a seed for Shy FX’s appearance four years later with Chase & Status, David Rodigan and MC Rage as Rebel Sound, where the artists put on an unprecedented performance comprised entirely of exclusive dubs. Their opponents A$AP Mob, Boy Better Know and Channel One were trounced by a slew of dubplates featuring artists like Emeli Sandé, Tempa T, Kurupt FM and Rihanna. A performance that many observers have called historic.

What’s most apparent, when we zoom out and look at the influence of soundsystem culture on dance music, is the energy that has permeated through generations from the 1950s up to now. Take the late Lennie De Ice, for instance. His Caribbean background was a vital component of his pivotal tune ‘We Are I.E.’. The bassline comes straight out of reggae soundsystems. Similarly, when you look at Fabio, another jungle pioneer, his upbringing includes sneaking out to blues parties when he was a teenager. So many of the pioneers of dance music in the UK, including those with British heritage, were taking influence from reggae, soul, funk, disco, electro, hip hop - blending it with futuristic electronic influences and creating something new.

It’s impossible to imagine the musical landscape today without soundsystem culture and its vast influence on so much of the music that has emerged from the UK, and the US, over the past half a century. It is the forebearer of a multitude of styles and genres, techniques, and cultural touchpoints that have become the norm, inspiring millions of people all over the world.

Marcus Barnes is a freelance writer and regular contributor to Mixmag, follow him on Instagram

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