"Dancehall pressure."

"She's a dancehall MC from Israel, all her stuff is produced by the Bug so it's this mad acid tech dub echo stuff, she also has a track called dagger that was on album from last year, so good!"

"I grew up with a lot of my dad's reggae records. I used to always buy the compilations, the Reggae Hits volumes, Ragga Ragga Ragga! We always listened to music in the car and “Murder She Wrote” really captured everything that was great about ‘90s dancehall music. The melodies were right, the emceeing was just the right tone, and the beat itself was of an era of dancehall that I loved so much, from listening to sound systems like Kilimanjaro and Addis. “What I've really enjoyed, having been in this for a minute now, is to see how styles and trends and music are cyclical. I used to think all that was BS; “Oh yeah, don't worry, this is gonna come back round”, but when I start to think, I guess it was around 2015 that there was this new sound everyone was talking about called 'Afrobeats'. I was like “Let's check this out” and to me it's ‘90s dancehall with a twist. You know what I mean? And now we've got Diadora, Kappa, Fila, all these brands that kind of had a moment, and all of a sudden it's retro, it's vintage. It's like “Wow, this is happening in front of my face.” “So to have that wisdom of what those songs were about is exciting for me. I can go in the studio and I can draw samples from a ‘90s dancehall tune, that, if you didn't grow up during that time might be lost in the vaults, because you wouldn't even know about Jigsy King, Sanchez, Beres Hammond and old school dub reggae. “Now I can pull out my tracksuit and people are like 'Mate, where'd you get that?' and I'm like '1990', this is real vintage coming out my mum's cupboard."

"I didn't really grow up listening to Buju, I kinda got into him a couple years ago, I would say. But soundsystem culture is interesting in that respect, same with soca, same with some of grime, a lot of dancehall, where you’ll go into a party and you’ll know the tune but you don't know who it is. I’ve always had that kind of relationship with Buju. When I really started going through his discography was the same time I got into Count Ossie and The Mystic Revelation and listened to a lot of Nyabinghi - spiritual music that’s not for entertainment. Then later finding that this record was when he was converting to Rastafarianism, but when I listen to this tune it always stuck out to me because how do you sound like the deepest gunman in Kingston, but yet also like the poet. It's perfect man. I'm getting married later in the year and was telling my fiancée ‘You know I’m gonna walk down the aisle to some Buju?’ And even she’s like I can’t really say you’re wrong. We get it as well, if you’ve grown up in London soundsystem culture is so important, there's something you just get. It feels like you’re listening to Kano or Dizzee cos they’re borrowing from it. That album just has a sound, it's really emotive, when you listen to it you feel everything, you know. Whether it's the way he's recorded the guitar or the choice of mic, it all adds to that sound world. It’s more than music - that was really influential to me, I would say."