Paths of Rhythm (Formerly Once A DJ)

This week I'm joined by Martin 2 Smoove — Ministry of Sound Milkshake resident, tour DJ for Eve and for Romesh Ranganathan, and a man who held down a Pacha residency alongside Trevor Nelson. Martin was born in Kerala, raised in Basildon, and spent his teens watching Trevor on MTV Base thinking that's the job I want. A night out at 17 watching the Dream Team turn a room inside out sealed it. What follows is one of the most honest accounts of the slow route I've had on the show: an economics degree taken to keep his parents happy, summers as a runner at Wise Buddah fetching drinks for 50 Cent, years of breaking into halls of residence with armfuls of flyers, and a long stretch between 2010 and 2012 where nothing moved at all while everyone he graduated with got on with their careers.
Then a call from a contact at Atlantic about an American artist needing a tour DJ turned out to be Eve, and thirteen years later he's still there. We get into the craft of it too — the Leicester Square residency where the owner would ask him to clear the dance floor on purpose, six years playing 80s and 90s pop at Jazz Cafe that taught him more about music than anything else he's done, why Shazam charts are a month ahead of the actual charts, and why being easy to travel with matters as much as what you can do on the turntables. Martin's the kind of guest who makes you want to take the unglamorous gig. Really enjoyed this one.
What we get into:
Growing up in Basildon with no music in the house, and finding Michael Jackson, MTV Base and Trevor Nelson
Seeing the Dream Team at 17 and deciding on the spot that making a room happy was the job
Studying economics at Keele to shut his parents up, and hating every minute of the academic side
Why he'll still take the right gig for free, and how the long-term view has paid off repeatedly
Being a runner at Wise Buddah, getting studio drops from Mariah Carey and Xzibit, and learning artist etiquette the hard way
Warming up for Trevor Nelson at universities, and twenty years of Milkshake at Ministry of Sound
The 2010–2012 stretch where nothing happened, and the digging-for-diamonds meme he wishes he'd seen then
Two summers at Pacha, and bringing R&B and hip hop to an island that wasn't playing it
Leicester Square and Jazz Cafe: learning to clear a dance floor on purpose, and what Karma Chameleon does to a room
The U2 end-of-tour party where nobody danced for four hours until one request changed everything
Getting the Eve call, messing up the second gig, and the look of death on stage
Gumball 3000, working Mondays unpaid to learn the clothing business, and a BAPE collaboration on the way
VJing Romesh Ranganathan's arena tour, and how to add value rather than just play a set
Why Shazam charts beat the official charts by a month
Running a DJ agency with Andy Purnell and Luke, and why being easy to travel with is a professional skill

Dean Bryce grew up in a council house in Catford where his dad played records so loud the single-pane glass would vibrate. His dad ran a sound system called Observer and was close to Saxon, the South London sound whose cassettes travelled so far that Wyclef Jean learned English from one in Haiti — thinking they were American. Dean spent his weekends bored in Saxon's Brockley studio while records were being made around him, and it was that DIY world — pirate radio, your own label, boards pulled off boarded-up houses to build speakers — that shaped everything he's done since. He found his own music in jungle at 13, at Jungle Magic in Peckham, then garage, then a job on Deptford market bought purely to fund records. A conversation over the HMV counter with a stranger buying an MJ Cole single turned into a job in artist management the same week he met him, and from there it's been Talking Loud, BMG, sync at the height of the Cadbury's Gorilla ad, Ninja Tune, and Boiler Room. He signed Speech Debelle and won Ninja Tune their first Mercury Prize, DM'd Peggy Gou on SoundCloud and met her for a coffee in a Pret in Old Street, and set out to make Ninja Tune a label he'd actually buy records from. He now runs Don't Sleep — a label, a management company, a club night and a CIC teaching young people the parts of the industry nobody shows them — and he's back DJing with intention, because he thinks too many people playing right now aren't really DJs at all.
In this episode we get into:
Growing up in a Jamaican household in Catford, and a dad with thousands of records
Red Records in Brixton, and why he ended up living there
His dad's sound system Observer, and being raised around Saxon
How Saxon's cassettes reached New York, Jamaica and Haiti — and taught Wyclef Jean English
What actually wins a sound clash: dub plates, or sheer power
Building speakers from the boards off boarded-up houses, and where his independent streak comes from
Jungle Magic at Laserdrome, Peckham, aged 13 — and jungle as the first music that was his, not his dad's
Tape packs, happy hardcore, and jungle splitting off from breakbeat hardcore
Buying garage from 96, and where house stops and garage starts
Why the girls were all in the garage room
Learning to mix on unbranded belt-drive decks with no pitch control
Pirate radio as the real goal — Upfront FM, and why it was "the internet"
Working Deptford market to buy records, and never making it to the shop before closing
Meeting MJ Cole's manager over the HMV counter, and a marketing meeting on day one
Tuse, Roots Manuva, and hearing Witness the Fitness on cassette in his flat
Sorting MJ Cole's Kiss promos into three piles — and pulling out an early Streets white label
BMG in the Hey Ya era, and the OutKast party that hired out the whole London Eye
Sync, the Cadbury's Gorilla, most favoured nations, and why a low fee isn't always a bad deal
Signing Speech Debelle and winning Ninja Tune their first Mercury Prize
Making Ninja Tune "the label that I would buy records from" — FaltyDL, Peggy Gou, Actress
The SoundCloud DM to Peggy Gou, and a coffee in a Pret in Old Street
Why A&R is all soft skills, and leaving no fingerprints on a record
Boiler Room from iChat messages to a 50-person company, and the lockdown moment they missed
Don't Sleep, the Doja Cat email, and building a home for artists who get slept on
Infinite Coles, Sweetface Killa, and handling a record people read as a diss
Artist development against the TikTok microwave
Coming back to DJing with intention

This week I'm joined by DJ Melo D — a beat junkie, a world champion, and one of the most technically gifted scratch DJs to come out of Southern California. Melo D was born and raised in Cerritos in the early 1980s, right as hip hop and electro were landing on the West Coast, and he grew up hooked on KDAY airchecks, pause-button mixtapes and a friend's older brother's turntables. He got his first Technics 1200 for Christmas 1987, taught himself to scratch by ear on his dad's home stereo, and cut his teeth doing high school dances and quinceañeras as a mobile DJ before linking up with DJ Curse, Rhett Matic and J Rock — the crew that would become the Beat Junkies.
While studying sociology at UC Irvine, Melo D was quietly stacking up battle titles: a Vestax USA and World Championship, a DMC USA final with Babu, and an ITF World Championship with the Beat Junkies crew. That same run of form landed him a job as Quincy Jones' on-air DJ for the late-night talk show Vibe — a gig he says he only got because he had the nerve to force a James Brown routine on Quincy after his first set of battle routines fell flat. Alongside years on LA radio with Julio G at 92.3 The Beat, Melo D went on to co-found the Beat Junkie Institute of Sound with his crew, where he still teaches today.
We get properly nerdy in this one — the maths behind scratch technique, why J Dilla's swing breaks DJs, how the crab scratch was actually born in a Tokyo hotel room, and what it's like being handed a job by Quincy Jones on the spot.
In this episode we cover:
Growing up in Cerritos during the first wave of West Coast hip hop and electro
The KDAY Mixmasters and the birth of the West Coast mix show
Getting his first Technics 1200 for Christmas 1987 and teaching himself to scratch
Mobile DJing quinceañeras, high school dances and SoCal house parties
Linking up with DJ Curse, Rhett Matic and J Rock and forming the Beat Junkies
Balancing a sociology degree with Vestax, DMC and ITF world titles
The golden era of turntableism and why vinyl forced so much creativity
The origin story of the crab scratch, told first-hand
Becoming Quincy Jones' DJ for the Vibe talk show
Building the Beat Junkie Institute of Sound and what's hardest to teach beginners
The vinyl renaissance and the case for BPM-labelling your records

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This week's guest is a Yorkshireman I'd heard whispered about by more than one person in the scene before I ever got him on the mic — David Piccioni. Born to an Italian father and South African mother and raised in Huddersfield, David got his real education in a punk scene that had him sneaking into soundchecks before he'd even worked out he wanted to DJ. A few years later, economics and politics at Liverpool University led him straight into throwing his own parties and playing American import records at Liverpool's Wednesday night club nights — and by 1986 he'd saved up for a one-way flight to New York with £300 in a bag and no contacts waiting for him.
What followed is the kind of story you can only get firsthand: getting schooled at Paradise Garage under Larry Levan, soaking up David Mancuso's Loft, and becoming one of the biggest DJs in the city within two years. When he came home to London, David co-owned Black Market Records with Nicky Blackmarket — the shop that helped break UK jungle and drum & bass upstairs while he ran the house side — before founding Azuli Records, a label that got away with pretending to be American for years, broke Afro Medusa's "Pasilda" and Spiller's "Groove Jet," and put out the Late Night Tales and Choice compilation series. When digital killed the vinyl business, David didn't look back — he moved to Ibiza and built a restaurant instead. This one's full of stories you won't find written down anywhere else.
Topics covered:
Growing up in Huddersfield and sneaking into gigs during its punk scene
Missing the Sex Pistols at Ivanhoe's on Christmas Day
The move to Liverpool University and falling into DJing by accident
Saving up for a one-way flight to New York in 1986
Getting schooled at Paradise Garage by Larry Levan, and David Mancuso's Loft
Coming home to co-own Black Market Records with Nicky Blackmarket
Building Azuli Records — and the fake American label trick that fooled the industry for years
Breaking Afro Medusa's "Pasilda" and turning down Spiller's "Groove Jet"
Curating the Late Night Tales and Choice compilation series
Why Azuli couldn't survive the shift from vinyl to digital
Trading the dancefloor for a restaurant on a clifftop in Ibiza