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Patta x Keep Hush returned to Skatecafé for their third ADE takeover, curated by Passion DEEZ. This year’s event championed Amsterdam’s underground sound, past and present, with a lineup of DJs who’ve helped shape the city’s vibrant nightlife scene and those who will carve a path in coming years True to Keep Hush’s roots, the night was a celebration of underground club music, blending jungle, garage, dubstep, UK funky, drum and bass, and bubbling; reflecting the diverse and boundary-pushing energy that defines Amsterdam’s dance culture.

Patta x Keep Hush returned to Skatecafé for their third ADE takeover, curated by Passion DEEZ. This year’s event championed Amsterdam’s underground sound, past and present, with a lineup of DJs who’ve helped shape the city’s vibrant nightlife scene and those who will carve a path in coming years True to Keep Hush’s roots, the night was a celebration of underground club music, blending jungle, garage, dubstep, UK funky, drum and bass, and bubbling; reflecting the diverse and boundary-pushing energy that defines Amsterdam’s dance culture.

Patta x Keep Hush returned to Skatecafé for their third ADE takeover, curated by Passion DEEZ. This year’s event championed Amsterdam’s underground sound, past and present, with a lineup of DJs who’ve helped shape the city’s vibrant nightlife scene and those who will carve a path in coming years True to Keep Hush’s roots, the night was a celebration of underground club music, blending jungle, garage, dubstep, UK funky, drum and bass, and bubbling; reflecting the diverse and boundary-pushing energy that defines Amsterdam’s dance culture.

Patta x Keep Hush returned to Skatecafé for their third ADE takeover, curated by Passion DEEZ. This year’s event championed Amsterdam’s underground sound, past and present, with a lineup of DJs who’ve helped shape the city’s vibrant nightlife scene and those who will carve a path in coming years True to Keep Hush’s roots, the night was a celebration of underground club music, blending jungle, garage, dubstep, UK funky, drum and bass, and bubbling; reflecting the diverse and boundary-pushing energy that defines Amsterdam’s dance culture.

Patta x Keep Hush returned to Skatecafé for their third ADE takeover, curated by Passion DEEZ. This year’s event championed Amsterdam’s underground sound, past and present, with a lineup of DJs who’ve helped shape the city’s vibrant nightlife scene and those who will carve a path in coming years True to Keep Hush’s roots, the night was a celebration of underground club music, blending jungle, garage, dubstep, UK funky, drum and bass, and bubbling; reflecting the diverse and boundary-pushing energy that defines Amsterdam’s dance culture.

Patta x Keep Hush returned to Skatecafé for their third ADE takeover, curated by Passion DEEZ. This year’s event championed Amsterdam’s underground sound, past and present, with a lineup of DJs who’ve helped shape the city’s vibrant nightlife scene and those who will carve a path in coming years True to Keep Hush’s roots, the night was a celebration of underground club music, blending jungle, garage, dubstep, UK funky, drum and bass, and bubbling; reflecting the diverse and boundary-pushing energy that defines Amsterdam’s dance culture.

Patta x Keep Hush returned to Skatecafé for their third ADE takeover, curated by Passion DEEZ. This year’s event championed Amsterdam’s underground sound, past and present, with a lineup of DJs who’ve helped shape the city’s vibrant nightlife scene and those who will carve a path in coming years True to Keep Hush’s roots, the night was a celebration of underground club music, blending jungle, garage, dubstep, UK funky, drum and bass, and bubbling; reflecting the diverse and boundary-pushing energy that defines Amsterdam’s dance culture.

Patta x Keep Hush returned to Skatecafé for their third ADE takeover, curated by Passion DEEZ. This year’s event championed Amsterdam’s underground sound, past and present, with a lineup of DJs who’ve helped shape the city’s vibrant nightlife scene and those who will carve a path in coming years True to Keep Hush’s roots, the night was a celebration of underground club music, blending jungle, garage, dubstep, UK funky, drum and bass, and bubbling; reflecting the diverse and boundary-pushing energy that defines Amsterdam’s dance culture.

The Machine touches down in Amsterdam. For one afternoon only, ODUMODUBLVCK pulls up to Patta Amsterdam ahead of his headline show at Skatecafe. Pull through for a meet & greet and the chance to purchase the limited Patta x Odumodublvck T-Shirt, dropping this Sunday, November 16th at 14:00 CET, exclusively in-store. The first 5 purchases of the T-Shirt get free tickets to the show later that night at Skatecafe. Show up. Show love. Move with The Machine.

Patta London is proud to finally welcome Living Proof to our shelves, featuring the legendary Boogie, a photographer who’s spent decades capturing the truth most people walk past.In NEW YORK IS MINE / I CAME AT THE PERFECT TIME, Boogie revisits his first decade behind the lens in New York City — 166 pages of unseen black-and-white work shot during one of the most defining periods for both the city and his career.Born Vladimir Milivojevich in Belgrade in 1970, Boogie grew up in the chaos of the nineties, where photography became a lifeline. From war-torn streets in Serbia to the raw corners of Brooklyn, his lens never flinched. He’s since become one of the most influential street photographers of our time — a documentarian of grit, honesty, and human reality. Living Proof shines a light on that legacy — and this issue sets the tone: uncompromising, unfiltered, and alive.“NEW YORK IS MINE / I CAME AT THE PERFECT TIME” is now available at Patta London.Step through, spend some time with it, and take home a piece of history.

Interview by Passion DzengaIn just a few years, T.NO has gone from quietly uploading beats on SoundCloud to becoming one of the most exciting names shaping the global electronic scene. His tracks — a hypnotic blend of gqom, Brazilian funk, bubbling, and bass-heavy club sounds — are now being played at Lowlands, at Glastonbury, and underground dance floors from Brazil to South Korea. Yet for T.NO, the journey began long before any festival stage or club setting.Raised in a house filled with R&B, soul, and hip-hop, music was stitched into his daily life. His father, a bassist in the band .nuClarity and a djembe teacher, filled their home with instruments and rhythms that naturally seeped into T.NO’s DNA. By 13, he was mixing drum & bass and dubstep with friends, and by 16, he was producing beats on FL Studio — though back then, he had no plans of turning music into a career; it was already a passion.It wasn’t until 2022, after witnessing a transformative DJ Weslee set at Lowlands, that everything shifted. T.NO dove headfirst into electronic music, crafting a sound that refuses to be boxed into any single genre. His edits on SoundCloud caught attention quickly, but recently, he’s been making a bold transition into original productions — carving out a sonic space entirely his own.Now, as he gears up to release his explosive new single “NO VAI” — a track built on deep basslines, chopped Brazilian vocals, and infectious energy — T.NO is entering a new chapter. We sat down to talk about his roots, his creative process, and how his globally inspired sound is reshaping club culture. Can you tell us a little bit about how you first got into music and what kind of sounds you grew up around?Growing up, there was a lot of R&B, soul, and hip-hop in my household — those were the main three genres. My dad was in a band called .nuClarity. He played bass guitar, and they did hip-hop, jazz, and soul, so music was always present.On top of that, he gave djembe lessons at AMP, so my environment was always full of instruments. On Wednesdays, I’d join him and my brother at his classes, soaking up rhythms and melodies from a young age. Music was part of everyday life.With all that early exposure, when did you realise that music wasn’t just something you loved, but something you wanted to pursue seriously?At first, I didn’t see it as a career — it was pure passion. In high school, when I was around 13, a friend and I would make drum & bass and dubstep mixes on Virtual DJ. By 16 or 17, one of my friends installed FL Studio for me on my birthday and said, “You’ve got to make beats too.” From that point, I was hooked — constantly producing, but only for myself.Things shifted in 2022 when I saw DJ Weslee perform at Lowlands. His set opened my eyes to what electronic music could be. I’d been making mostly hip-hop, R&B, and trap beats, but after that night, I made a full 180 and dove into electronic music. That’s when I first felt, “This is what I want the world to hear.”Before that transition, were you mostly making and collecting R&B and hip-hop?Yeah, that’s where my head was at musically. It’s what I listened to and what I produced.Rhythm clearly plays a big role in your artistry. You were also dancing at the time, right?Kind of. I never danced professionally, but it’s always been in my blood. I can watch someone do a move and instantly copy it. Being surrounded by rhythm growing up made it easy to catch the beat naturally.I remember when you first started releasing music, and you shared quite a lot via SoundCloud. What was that era like for you?Some of those early tracks are still on SoundCloud from like seven years ago. Back then, I wasn’t trying to build a brand or tell my story — I just wanted something online so people could hear what I was working on. I was heavily inspired by Soulection Radio. My main goal at the time was to get one of my tracks played there.Did you know how to make that happen back then?Not at all. I’d just upload tracks and hope for the best. I even once DM’d Joe Kay a track, but he never saw itNow your music is played at Lowlands, Glastonbury and highly respected dance floors all over the world. From Brazil to South Korea. How does that feel?It’s surreal. I make these tracks alone in my room — just me, my laptop, and headphones. To hear them booming through massive sound systems at festivals is still hard to process. It hasn’t fully landed for me yet.Are there any standout moments — big names who’ve supported your tracks?A few, yeah. Seeing RHR from Brazil play one of my tracks was huge. Then I noticed a purchase on Bandcamp and I kinda recognised the name, and it turned out to be Ben UFO! That blew my mind, especially because it wasn’t even the track I would’ve guessed he’d pick. Also, Toma Kamii, whose music I’ve loved for ages, asked me recently to do an official remix for one of his tracks. That was a full-circle moment.Over the past two years, you’ve moved from edits into original productions. What drove that shift?When I first got into electronic music, I dropped a lot of edits on SoundCloud, and they performed really well. But releasing originals is different — it’s more complex because you have to handle proper distribution across streaming platforms.Once I released my first original track, though, the feeling was unmatched. Hearing DJs play something I built entirely from scratch feels way more rewarding than edits. Edits are fun, but you’re kind of riding the wave of an existing track. Originals feel like me.Let’s talk about your creative process. How do you typically start a track?There isn’t one formula. Sometimes I’ll hear a rhythm or texture in a mix that sparks an idea. Other times, it starts with drums, a bassline, or a vocal chop.For my new single NO VAI, it began with a deep bassline. Then I found these Brazilian vocals in an old folder and chopped them up. I treat vocals like instruments — it’s more about their texture than their meaning. The goal was to make something that hits hard on the dance floor, where the bass literally shakes your body.Your sound pulls from so many global influences — South African gqom, Brazilian funk, bubbling, and more. How did that come together?Seeing DJ Weslee play Gqom at Lowlands opened the door for me. I started experimenting with gqom but didn’t stick strictly to the genre. I’d blend Brazilian vocals, gqom basslines, and rhythms from other styles. I’m not trying to replicate existing genres — I’m creating a grey area where all my influences coexist. It’s about taking pieces of what inspires me and making something new.Do you think this evolution in sound is also reshaping club culture?Definitely. Hearing sounds like bubbling, gqom, reggaeton, or baile funk makes a lot of people feel at home on the dance floor. That draws in more diverse DJs and crowds, which is beautiful.At the same time, it’s introducing new audiences to genres they’ve never experienced before. It’s opening minds and pushing culture forward.You’ve just shot your first music video for NO VAI. What was that like?Stressful but amazing. I quickly realised I’m a music guy, not a production guy. Luckily, I worked with Patta and brought my brother on board as director, which made me comfortable. He took my ideas and turned them into a proper story.I wanted the video to capture the sweaty energy of a club, so I invited my friends, brought in Yacht Private Club — an incredible dance group — and shot it in a dark, atmospheric space. There were dancers, trampolines, explosive shots… it was chaotic but so fun. We shot for over 12 hours, well past midnight. It was intense, but it paid off.Amsterdam’s T.NO lands on Club Djembe with a 5-track statement built for the late hours - dark, rave-ready and heavy. The release follows his recent Yards EP on re:lax, where he balanced grime weight with baile funk fire, and his link-up with DJ Polo on Ainda, a tribal drum workout that’s been shaking dancefloors across Europe. This EP takes that same raw energy and pushes it harder - rolling percussion, shadowy atmospheres, and basslines designed to cut straight through the rave. You can grab this now on Bandcamp.

The wait is over. ODUMODUBLVCK lands in Amsterdam for his debut Dutch live show at Skatecafe on Sunday, 16 November. The Abuja-bred disruptor shapeshifts between grime voltage and Afrobeat swing, forging Okporoko Rhythms, the sound that crowned him the voice of Nigerian drill.Fresh off his fifth album INDUSTRY MACHINE, ODU shows no signs of slowing down. The project, featuring heavyweights like Wizkid, Davido, Modenine and Skepta, cements his status as one of the most dynamic voices out of Africa, genre-blurring, truth-telling and impossible to pin down.The face of the recent Patta x Nike Air Max 90 campaign reinforces the bridges he has been building by finally delivering a live show for his Netherlands-based community. From the viral charge of “Declan Rice” to the chameleonic palette of EZIOKWU (The Truth), ODU’s pen stays sharp and his presence stays heavy. Expect highlife-laced hooks, drill grit and unflinching charisma. “Music for everybody: father, mother, son, daughter,” as he says.For this special night, Patta, Melkweg and Skatecafé join forces to make ODU’s first time in Amsterdam a reality. Tickets are available now. Limited capacity. Come early. Leave changed. Don’t miss out! The doors open at 18:00 o'clock. For this special night we’ve invited The Jollof Club to take over the kitchen. Serving up their signature smoked Jollof Rice with Fried plantain and Suya chicken or Suya Beet (v). Come early and enjoy some jollof with us!

Interview by Passion Dzenga | Photography by Greg StanleyIn the ever-evolving landscape of hip hop, two artists have been quietly but consistently bending the rules. Birmingham rapper Sonnyjim and Sheffield producer Morriarchi come from different parts of the country, but share a deep commitment to craft, collaboration, and keeping things unpredictable.Sonnyjim’s deadpan flow and razor-sharp wordplay have seen him move between underground cult status and collaborations with legends like MF Doom, Jay Electronica, DJ Premier, and Madlib. Morriarchi, meanwhile, has carved out a reputation as a beatmaker with cinematic vision — pulling from dusty records, global travels, and Sheffield’s DIY spirit to create soundscapes that sit somewhere between hip hop, trip hop, and leftfield electronica.Together, they’ve built a partnership rooted in trust, experimentation, and an almost playful refusal to fit into one box. Their forthcoming record is their most expansive yet — spanning smoked-out jazz loops, heavy funk flips, and unexpected cinematic turns.Get familiar with the duo as they talk about their creative chemistry, the UK’s shifting musical landscape, and how to keep building when algorithms and AI threaten to flatten the sound. What follows is a conversation about community, chaos, and finding your voice in a scene that’s finally getting global attention.You’ve both been making waves in UK hip hop for quite a few years now, but your paths are very different. For anyone new to your work, how would you describe your sound?Sonnyjim: How would I describe my sound? Recently I’ve been asking ChatGPT this and it called it “deadpan luxury.” Personally, I don’t know. People say it’s smoked-out jazz, drumless — which I don’t really agree with. It’s always a hard one for me. I feel like I don’t really have a sound. I just rhyme on whatever I like — funk, disco, soul, abstract loops. Whatever I gravitate toward. I try not to put it in a box.Morriarchi: I’d say something similar. It’s not rooted in one style because I’m a DJ and collector first. I’m into sprawling tastes, going in multiple directions. Some people have called it chaotic, but I like adding a cinematic edge too — I’m a big film head. In the end, it’s not really for us to decide. The listener decides.Sonnyjim: Exactly. To us, it feels varied, but if you ask my girl, she’ll say all my shit sounds the same.Since you both started your musical journeys, the landscape has shifted a lot. How would you say Sheffield shaped your sound, Morriarchi? And Birmingham shaped yours, Sonnyjim?Morriarchi: Sheffield had more of a DIY techno and dub scene. No dominant hip hop scene. That made us breed something else, move at our own tempo.Sonnyjim: Birmingham was always active. Even when UK rap felt dead nationally 20 years ago, there was still a scene there. Being the second city, rooted in Jamaican and bhangra culture, there was always MCs, always a competitive spirit. That shaped me from early.Sonnyjim you’ve cited UK legends like Skinnyman alongside US influences like Jay-Z and Nas. How do you reconcile those two worlds?Sonnyjim: To me, it’s all the same. I don’t look at UK vs. US. If a rapper raps good, they rap good. I don’t differentiate. It’s just good music.Morriarchi your beats have a dusty, cinematic quality — almost like short films. Where does that come from? Old records, movies, experimentation?Morriarchi: All of it. I sometimes think of it like martial arts — learning techniques and finding what works for you. Early on I wanted to make beats like DJ Premier or DJ Muggs. Being in Sheffield, Warp Records and trip hop were huge influences too. But over time you want to dig deeper, find sounds that haven’t been over-sampled.At the end of the day, it’s not just what you do with a sample but the personality you add. Sometimes I think I should have added more technicality, but Sunny’s like, “Nah, it’s done.” His voice becomes the final instrument. Trusting that process is key.You’ve both worked with artists from Blah Records and beyond. What do you look for in a collaboration?Sonnyjim: These days, it’s more about knowing the person. Me and Morri knew each other for years before working. If I don’t enjoy the process, it’s not worth it, no matter how talented someone is.Morriarchi: Yeah, sense of humor helps too. Those inside jokes, little samples or skits we find funny — even if the audience doesn’t get them — they make it enjoyable for us. And that joy comes through in the music.Sonnyjim on the record White Girl Wasted you had an insane lineup — MF Doom, Jay Electronica, Premier, Madlib. How did those collaborations come about?Sonnyjim: Honestly, just from being around so long. It’s six degrees of separation. With Doom, we sent the beat and he wrote off it. Once we had Doom, we reached out to Jay. He was the hardest to get — we didn’t have a link until I saw him post on Instagram about four people to contact. I hit them all, one got back, and the rest is history. Premier I already had a relationship with, and Madlib came through Egon. I was sitting on Doom’s verse from 2018. Didn’t release it until five years later when the album came together.Let’s talk about your collaboration. What’s the creative process like? Beats first, bars first, chaos?Sonnyjim: Bit of everything. I’m always writing bars. Morri’s always cooking beats. Sometimes he brings me something saying, “I hear you on this.” Sometimes I ask him for a vibe I’ve been inspired by. He’s got so many crazy styles I haven’t even touched yet.Morriarchi: Mostly we’d send folders back and forth. A few times we worked in person. There was one beat I had to really convince Sonnyjim to get on. Took some psychedelic assistance to finish that one [laughs]. But then you get magic, like with Peace Ar. I played him the record in a pub, and he wrote the rhymes the next time we were in the studio.Sonnyjim: Yeah, that was the last song we recorded. Came together so organically. Some of these tracks were fresh — not sitting around for years — which makes the album feel alive to me.Do you ever disagree in the studio?Sonnyjim: Nah, never that. For me, part of picking collaborators is about trust and learning from each other. Sometimes I’ll think, “That doesn’t sit right,” and Morri will see it differently. Later I might realize he was right. We never had major disagreements — just small details.Morriarchi: Yeah, like whether to turn up a dog bark in the mix. Minor stuff. For the sequencing, I handled it, and Sonnyjim trusted me. I think sequencing still matters, even in the playlist era. It’s like chapters in a film.Sonnyjim: And Morri mixes are part of the production. First time I’ve experienced that. The mix itself shapes the sound.Your bars, Sonnyjim, are often dense with clever wordplay, references, and imagery. Do you start with concepts, or do the beats dictate where you take the vocal?Sonnyjim: It’s always different. Sometimes I’m just writing and I’ve got loads of bars anyway. Sometimes I’ll be in the studio, just playing beats all day and writing fresh. Sometimes I’ll write something for one beat, then try it over ten others and see what it fits best on. You’d be surprised how often a verse ends up fitting a beat I never would’ve chosen first. I try not to overthink. I’ve always got dozens of beats and rhymes on the go.Even when I’m not in the studio, verses just come to me. Sometimes in three or four minutes, sometimes in hours. It’s like crate-digging for producers — they’re always hunting records, new sounds, flipping stuff. For me it’s the same with rhymes. You don’t stop. It’s ingrained in your mind.And for yourself, Mitch, how do you balance experimenting with keeping your music listenable?Morriarchi: I think now, because I’ve built up a bunch of different styles, I don’t even notice what I’m doing half the time. I’ll just start making stuff, then bring more intention to it later.Experimentation is necessary. Especially now — when you’re up against AI, you’ve got to stay unpredictable. Like, if someone asks for a mariachi beat, hopefully the machine won’t even know what to do with that. I’ve seen Terminator — I’m not trying to lose that fight.Fingers crossed this interview doesn’t make it easier for the robots.Morriarchi: [laughs] They’re coding it out already.UK hip hop’s finally getting more international recognition, with stronger ties to the US underground. Do you feel like you’re part of a bigger global movement, or is what you’re doing still very much UK?Sonnyjim: For me, I’ve always felt part of the global movement. I’ve never considered myself strictly “UK hip hop.” I just saw myself as a rapper in the world who happened to live here. If anything, I’ve felt more of an outsider in the UK, and more accepted globally.Morriarchi: It’s an interesting one. Here, “UK hip hop” almost became a dirty word for a while. But now it’s healthier, more varied. Social media also leveled things out — people in Paris or London or anywhere can connect with it.Blah Records deserves a big shout too. They built on regionality — Manchester, Liverpool, Sheffield, London. All those personalities became part of something global. Personally, I’m proud to be from the UK, but I don’t want to just be boxed in as a “UK artist.” I’d rather just be seen as an artist, full stop.Keeping on the international theme — I want to touch on the Pataka Boys. You’ve spoken about bringing in sounds when traveling. What was it like creating music that’s so culturally layered?Sonnyjim: Credit for that goes fully to the producer. If you listen closely, there aren’t actually that many Indian textures — it’s more dialogue, little sounds, the atmosphere. That’s what gave it the feeling. Plus we were rapping in Punjabi and different dialects. But the producer really had the vision.When we started, he was just a kid. About 19. He’d never worked with rappers before — had made like a thousand beats, all crazy, but no experience in structuring an album. He trusted me and Pav, so in a way we produced it together. Honestly, it wasn’t even meant to be an album. Pav was staying at mine, we had a studio, he started recording me. Then he jumped on some tracks too. A few days later we had ten records, then we went to India and added more. Super organic. Funny thing is, now he’s my engineer. He records me remotely from India. He knows everything now. Six years later he’s a beast.What have been some of your favourite venues or cities to perform in?Sonnyjim: Paris. Always shows me love. London too. Amsterdam. But Paris is number one.Morriarchi: For me, it’s walking into a record shop abroad and seeing my vinyl in the stacks. That’s incredible. Japan is always special — Osaka’s got this unique energy. And Slovenia too — I played there recently, and the knowledge the crowd had blew me away.With so much music out, do you ever slow down?Sonnyjim: I will soon. I’ve got seven or eight albums sitting, waiting. After next year, I’ll probably take a break.Morriarchi: I work in cycles. 2020–21 I released loads, then slowed down. Now I’m trying to be more intentional, give things longevity. But if projects pile up, I’ve got to get them out.The new record, will we see it performed live?Sonnyjim: For sure. I’m so proud of this music, at least half the album’s going in my live set. Can’t wait to tour it.Morriarchi: Same. This album was really special. Sonny actually came up with the title.Sonnyjim: Yeah, just something I saw online that resonated. Showed it to Morri, and we built from there.Morriarchi: I love world-building. Whether it’s microwaves or ’90s rap, it’s about having a reference point, a box of inspiration to pull from. That makes the whole process richer. 

Interview by Passion DzengaRuff Sqwad's story begins long before the YouTube era—back when youth clubs had vinyl decks, pirate radio ruled the city, and a TDK tape could change your week. More than twenty years ago, a loose neighbourhood posse of about thirty friends tightened into a small music unit—Slicks, Shifty Ridos and company—carrying the street name “Rough Squad” into studios, stairwells, and transmitter rooms. Their early education was communal and hands-on: Ghanaian household sounds and pop radio at home, drum & bass and garage on the block, and hours spent DJing and MCing in youth centres that doubled as classrooms. Pirate radio turned that energy outward—bedroom recordings to Deja/Rinse reach—while pressing their own vinyl taught business before there was a blueprint.As Channel U/AKA beamed grime into living rooms, the crew condensed and professionalised, but the ethos stayed DIY: passion first, structure second. In-house producers pushed one another daily, forging a signature that’s emotional and militant at once—heard in era-defining instrumentals like “Together” and “Functions on the Low.” Two decades on, the landscape has shifted from subs to streams, yet the core hasn’t: community, craft, and the mission to move people at 140 BPM. This conversation traces that arc—from youth-club spark and pirate missions to national tours and international stages—and why, for Ruff Sqwad, the music still feels authentic.Take us back to the very beginning—how did Rough Squad form, and who were the founding members?It started over 20 years ago as a big neighbourhood crew—about 30 of us hanging out and moving between youth clubs. From that, a smaller music unit formed: myself, Slicks, and Shifty Ridos. We kept the larger crew’s name and carried it into the music—Rough Squad. We were about 12–13, learning as we went. Being together every day—DJing, MCing, messing with gear—turned friends into musical partners.For readers in the Netherlands who didn’t grow up with UK youth clubs—what were they like, and why were they important?Youth clubs were community spaces with pool tables, table tennis, and—crucially—music equipment. Many had vinyl decks or a little studio. If you had records or a way to get them, you could learn to mix; if you wrote bars, you could practise on the mic. One of my first memories is walking into Devas Youth Club, seeing a young DJ blending two drum & bass tunes so clean it sounded like one—turned out it was Dizzee Rascal. Without those clubs, a lot of us wouldn’t have developed our skills or confidence.What sounds shaped you at home and around the ends before grime?At home: Ghanaian music and whatever was on national radio—pop, rock, chart hits. TV introduced us to the packaging of music—boy bands, pop acts—before we discovered hip-hop, then UK sounds. In the area and at school we heard drum & bass and UK garage, which led us to grime. That mix—African/Caribbean roots, pop radio, and the UK underground—fed into our style.When did you first ‘see yourselves’ in the music?For some of us, drum & bass/jungle came a bit earlier; for others, UK garage into early grime was the first time we saw people who talked like us, dressed like us, and came from where we came from—So Solid, Pay As U Go, that generation. In school, loads of MCs were Afro-Caribbean; it felt natural to step in.What did the first steps into pirate radio look like, and how did the crew name fit into that journey?We were making tapes in bedrooms—TDKs recorded at each other’s houses—long before radio. Hearing our first track “Tings in Boots” on air (shout to Triple S Crew on Magic FM) was magical. From there, pirate was the next level. Stations had hierarchies—Rinse FM and Deja Vu had huge reach—so moving from a smaller station to Deja felt like going from a 50-cap room to 1,000 people. Rough Squad started as a street crew name; when radio came into the picture, the name was already established.What were those early pirate missions like—logistics, crews, and risks?We were kids travelling across London to abandoned flats or converted council spaces that hosted transmitters and studios. It could be risky—you’d hear rumours about certain areas—but the love for music outweighed it. We usually rolled five-deep at least, sometimes with non-musical friends in the entourage. Pirate radio took us out of our neighbourhoods and showed us the city.Was there guidance from elders, or was it self-driven?A bit of both. We were lucky: Dizzee, Wiley, DJ Target, and PAUG were from nearby, so those networks and youth clubs gave us proximity. You’d spit a lyric in a session, someone would clock you and invite you up. Early on, it was about being heard—getting a turn on the mic. When artists started getting signed, it clicked that this could change our lives.Talk us through your first vinyl—why press it, and how did you make it happen?“Tings in Boots” had heat on the underground—especially with a young Tinchey Strider on vocals—so pressing it felt obvious. The model was clear from our peers: build a tune in the underground, get it on radio, cut dubplates, then press. We handled everything: booking studios, getting mixes, cutting dubs for radio, then pressing vinyl and hand-to-handing to shops. Some shops said no (and later those tracks became some of our biggest). Vinyl sales became our first legit income stream before proper shows and bookings scaled.How did distribution evolve once demand grew?At first, it was literally records in a car, shop to shop. As demand picked up, distributors stepped in to place stock across the country. It turned DIY hustle into a small business and taught us about the industry—production costs, timelines, margins—while keeping the streets involved.Looking back, what did that ecosystem—youth clubs, pirates, vinyl—give Rough Squad that streaming can’t?Access and identity. Youth clubs gave us skills and community. Pirate radio gave us reach, urgency, and a live feedback loop. Vinyl gave us ownership and revenue. Together, they made a pathway for kids from our ends to be heard—before algorithms—by sheer force of sound and consistency.Channel U/AKA put you on TV screens. How did that shift—from pirate sets and vinyl—change things?It condensed the crew. We started as 30 friends on the road, became 6–7 for the pirate era, and tightened further once TV rotation kicked in. When one of us started smashing shows nationwide with a bigger camp and then signed a deal, the spotlight widened. It felt strange at first—seeing your guy on other stations while you’re still doing your own sets—but it made sense and lifted the whole name. Tours followed, some of us jumped on those dates, and suddenly we’d gone from radio rooms to arenas of 10–15k.Mid-2000s grime went entrepreneurial—DVDs, tees, CDs, Star in the Hood, as well as exposure on commercial radio such as BBC Radio 1Xtra and Kiss FM. How did you keep the engine running as you moved from teens to young adults?Passion first, then structure. We lived together musically—woke up making tunes, passed houses to listen, hit radio twice a week, booked studio, pressed records. It wasn’t Google Calendars; it was brotherhood. Roles emerged: some of us organised sessions, deadlines and drops; others handled mixes, vinyl, videos. Because we were around each other 24/7, decisions happened in motion.“Together” still erupts clubs. What’s the origin story?Dirty Danger made the beat at around 14. It began as a loop—open, musical, cinematic. The moment it came through the wall, it felt special. He nearly binned it; we pushed him to finish it. In a later studio run (he funded the time), the hook got laid and the tune became a crew staple. It’s the clarity and space that let everyone paint emotion—that’s why it lasts.And “Functions on the Low”? How did that sound crystallise?Nothing was board-roomed. We had multiple in-house producers (each with a distinct palette) feeding off one another—same DAWs, different ears. Friendly pressure kept the bar high: if someone dropped four new riddims today, you weren’t showing up empty-handed tomorrow. We’d build a tune in a week to test it on radio the next. The overlap wasn’t formula; it was shared standards and constant iteration.Quality control in a big crew is tricky. How did you keep the sound coherent without boxing yourselves in?By listening—to each other and to the crowd. It wasn’t competition so much as catalysts: one synth line would spark another tune; a drum pocket would trigger a new flip. Because the workflow was relentless—five ideas a day at times—the weak fell away and the strongest ideas defined “the sound” organically.What’s changed in grime across 20+ years—and what hasn’t?DIY radio is gone, streaming is king, labels and platforms shifted the power a few times. But the culture cycles back: collaboration is up, the community feel is returning, and people are making grime because it moves them, not just the metrics. It doesn’t feel like 20 years because we never stopped.Grime’s international pull is real. Why keep bringing the sound to places like the Netherlands?Because the sound is bigger than us. It sits around 140 BPM, but it’s its own lane—recognisable, iconic, still evolving. We’re grateful to travel with it and rebuild, city by city. The Netherlands has long supported UK bass culture, and linking with local pillars only strengthens the ecosystem.If your music lived in a film, what genre would it score?Epic battle cinema—think 300 or Gladiator. Melodic, martial, high-stakes energy. It’s war music.On Saturday, November 1st, La Cassette take over MONO, Rotterdam presenting a crewnight. Bridging the gap between the Netherlands and the UK. Tickets are available now with party contributions starting at €14 and going up to €17.50.

Interview by Passion Dzenga  For our AW25 lookbook, we wanted every detail to reflect heritage, craftsmanship and modern storytelling — which is why we chose to style the collection with pieces from Fokko Juweliers. Known for their authentic Surinamese designs and deep cultural roots, Fokko doesn’t just create jewelry — they craft connection.As the largest Surinamese jewelry brand today, Fokko Juweliers is redefining what it means to wear tradition with pride. Their pieces blend ancestral craftsmanship with contemporary detail, honoring heritage while looking ahead. We caught up with the founder to get familiar with the story behind the brand — from humble beginnings on Facebook to becoming a million-euro company bridging cultures across the Netherlands and Suriname. Let’s dive in.First things first — how did Fokko Juweliers come to life? What’s the story behind the brand?After finishing my studies, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do. Together with a friend, Remi’s Juwelen — a Surinamese jeweler in Groningen — I started selling Surinamese jewelry online via platforms like Marktplaats and Facebook. We had a one-week delivery time.Over time, demand started growing, not just locally but from all over the country. At the time, Surinamese jewelry wasn’t really available online, so I decided to start my own brand: Fokko Juweliers. I didn’t want to name the business after myself directly, so I used my middle name — Fokko, named after my Dutch grandfather. That was back in 2009.As the brand grew, I launched Fokko Design in 2011: my own line of Surinamese jewelry inspired by authentic cultural pieces. Today, we ship over 10,000 orders a year, with an annual turnover of more than a million euros, and have a team of 10 people working with us.That’s an impressive journey! What are the values that drive Fokko Juweliers?At Fokko Juweliers, we’re deeply rooted in several core values that guide everything we do. Authenticity is at the heart of our work — we’re committed to preserving the traditional Surinamese culture and craftsmanship in every single piece we create. Our jewelry is a celebration of heritage, and we strive to keep that spirit alive through careful, meaningful design.Craftsmanship is equally important. Every item is created with precision, care, and an eye for detail — high quality isn’t optional; it’s a standard. We also place great value on diversity, reflecting the richness of Suriname’s multicultural society, where different ethnic influences come together in harmony. Sustainability is another pillar of our approach. We use eco-friendly materials and ethical production methods to ensure that our impact is positive, not just culturally, but environmentally as well.Connection plays a big role in our mission. We aim to connect people with Surinamese history and culture through our jewelry, and we’re proud to collaborate with Surinamese businesses — from local photographers to marketing partners. Our photos are often taken in Suriname itself, reinforcing that connection.We also feel immense pride — in our heritage, our team, and in the ability to share Surinamese stories with the world. Through our blog, we strive to raise awareness and appreciation for Suriname and its unique jewelry traditions. Finally, creativity is woven into our process. We love innovating and creating designs that respect traditional elements while incorporating a modern style.You operate in both the Netherlands and Suriname. How do the markets differ?There’s a notable difference in production methods between the two markets. In Suriname, jewelry is often handmade or crafted using basic molds, which results in pieces that may not have the polished finish expected in the Netherlands. That’s why we’ve invested heavily in advanced machinery and in training local Surinamese talent. Thanks to these investments, we’re now able to produce Surinamese jewelry that matches Dutch standards in both quality and finish. We can achieve intricate details that wouldn’t have been possible by hand alone, allowing us to blend tradition with modern precision.What makes Fokko Design stand out from other jewelry brands?What sets us apart is the authentic cultural connection embedded in each of our designs. Our jewelry tells genuine stories rooted in Surinamese traditions and customs, whereas many competing brands often create more generic, commercial pieces that lack that specific cultural background — and often, any personal connection to Suriname at all.We also work with authentic Surinamese materials and traditional techniques. For instance, we use the original hand-blown Ala Kondre beads, while others opt for cheaper Chinese replicas. This commitment to authenticity is a defining aspect of our brand. But we don’t stop there. We offer more than just products — we provide a full cultural experience. Whether it’s through our blog or sponsorship of Surinamese events, we create a space where people can engage with and feel proud of their heritage.And importantly, our jewelry remains affordable. For us, it’s not just about profit. Our mission is to tell Suriname’s story — and we want as many people as possible to be able to access and connect with it. Each piece we create reflects Suriname’s rich history, traditions, and cultural diversity, allowing our customers to wear something meaningful and proudly rooted in identity.What kind of partners or retailers do you collaborate with?When we look for partners to carry our Surinamese jewelry brand, we seek those who align with our vision and values. It’s important that they have a deep respect and appreciation for the cultural heritage behind our designs. We want to work with people who can genuinely communicate that story to their customers, because in Surinamese culture, jewelry holds significant meaning.We also prioritize quality. Our ideal partners are committed to offering their clients high-quality, handcrafted pieces — not mass-produced products. On top of that, they should be passionate about creating a strong customer experience — one that’s personal, warm, and meaningful.We value collaboration and want to work with people who are enthusiastic about growing with us. We believe our jewelry is much more than an accessory — it carries stories, memories, and identity. So, any partner we work with needs to understand what they’re offering and why it matters.And who is your typical customer?Our typical customer is someone who’s not just shopping for jewelry, but looking for something truly meaningful. They value craftsmanship and authenticity and are often drawn to the cultural and personal significance behind our pieces. These are people who want to wear or gift something that tells a story — something that resonates with their heritage, or simply stands out for its uniqueness.When they visit Fokko Juweliers, they’re looking for more than just a purchase. They want to feel welcomed, receive expert guidance, and be inspired. Our customers appreciate the personal attention we offer, as well as the passion and care we put into every single piece. It’s crucial that our team has in-depth knowledge to match each customer with something that truly suits their style, story, and wishes.In short, they’re seeking a warm, trustworthy, and authentic shopping experience where they feel heard, valued, and understood.Looking ahead — what’s next for Fokko Juweliers?We’re always looking forward and evolving based on our experience and customer feedback. While we’re proud of our current collection, we’re also excited about its future growth. In the coming months, we plan to introduce new designs that bring together Suriname’s rich cultural elements with modern trends.Another key goal is expanding our network of retail partners, especially in Belgium and eastern parts of the Netherlands, so we can share our passion with even more people. But for us, growth needs to be sustainable. Expanding too quickly can compromise quality and our close connection with customers — something we never want to lose.That’s why we take our time. We’re focused on maintaining the high standards we’ve set, both in our jewelry and in our customer service. Quality will always come before quantity for us. Sustainable growth allows us to stay true to our values and ensures that we remain a reliable, thoughtful, and personal brand long into the future.What legacy do you hope Fokko Juweliers leaves behind?We’re proud that Fokko Design has become the largest Surinamese jewelry brand — and that didn’t happen overnight. It took years of passion, hard work, and staying true to our identity. We’ve built a strong, trusted name both in Suriname and the Netherlands, and our customers see us as a reliable and inspiring brand that honors Surinamese culture and brings it to life through beautiful jewelry.Our biggest hope is to continue connecting people to Suriname’s rich traditions, and to do so with authenticity, quality, and care. We want to be remembered not just for our products, but for the stories we told, the people we inspired, and the cultural pride we shared with the world.

This marks the third year that Patta and Keep Hush come together — and you know what they say, three’s the magic number. So this time, we’re going bigger. We’ve called upon three of our favourite Amsterdam-based collectives — Sankofa Archives, Mosaiko and Studio Strip — to help us bring the energy higher than ever. This isn’t your average ADE rave. This is community in motion — collectives linking up, sounds colliding and people coming together to build something bigger than themselves.Patta x Keep Hush:AMARA • Cheyanne Hudson • NoizBoiz (Live) • MIXTRESS b2b Passion DEEZ • L-Dopa • Slimfit • YENTZYZ • ZillaSankofa Archives:Bxxmbastic • DENNIS FREE • Hey Bony • Itz3bby • Kekoto (Live) • Monicashflow • VPPIVH • Hosted by Kala CitéMosaiko x Studio Strip:MAJI • Chance di Finèsse • Awhlkun • Sia Sierra📍 Skatecafé, Amsterdam📆 Saturday, October 25th🎟️ Tickets are live now — don’t sleep. Join the movement and secure your spot at Patta x Keep Hush, where the community takes centre stage.