With its subterranean, distorted bass, skittish synths and driving, insistent flows, UK drill music is more popular than ever. The unabashedly macho genre, with its bleak lyrics of gang warfare and city life, is inspiring musicians around the world from Australia to Ireland to Ghana. Drill artists like Headie One, Digga D and Central Cee have become stars in their own right, while UK rap mainstays such as Stormzy and J Hus have rapped on the genre’s distinctive nocturnal beats.
One of the hottest acts in the new wave of UK drill is a collective called the 98s. Named after their Hackney postcodes of Homerton (E9) and Holly Street (E8), the group’s 10 members include some of the genre’s biggest established names (Unknown T, KO and V9) as well as rising stars Mazza, Stally, Billy Billions, Jimmy, DA, Hitman and Alchubbino. The size of the group allows for more variety: melodic hooks, contrasting cadences and even a sense of humour – for the cover of their first mixtape, Class of 98s, the crew posed in school uniforms.
For drill artists like the 98s, monetising their success is a huge priority, especially when live performances are not a possibility. This was an issue for drill musicians even before Covid-19: artists Skengdo and AM were arrested for performing one of their own songs live in December 2018 after a police injunction. So they enlist the help of a fleet of creatives, such as the music video director Yukki, who brings their songs to life with eye-catching visuals.
Yukki’s filmmaking skills developed out of his experiences as a young actor. Now credited as director for videos that have garnered some 20m views, it doesn’t appear to be a bad grounding.
“I shot some freestyle videos of some people in my school, short films and stuff…which then developed into going on set with Link Up TV [an online promotional music platform with over 1 million subscribers],” Yukki told Hackney Post.
Despite not having harboured deliberate hopes of getting into drill, his skills made him a perfect fit for the genre and he was soon in high demand.
He continued: “Looking back now it’s all about networking because lots of those people I used to run for are now my crew.”
London’s burgeoning grime scene, which developed out of the garage movement of the 1990s, provided Yukki with an opportunity that he grabbed with both hands.
“I am mad ambitious like that, I wouldn’t care about money or anything like that, I just wanted opportunities,” the director said.
On YouTube, a whole ecosystem is springing up around the industry that is helping to bring drill to a wider audience. The YouTube channel CORD makes super-slick, professional videos that shine a light not just on drill artists but also their producers, music video directors, and fans. A humourous video, where the 98s are blindfolded and asked for their opinions on each other, has been viewed over 200,000 times.
“UK drill has shown that artists do not have to compromise their sound to cross over into the mainstream,” CORD told Hackney Post. “We wanted to document all of the groundbreaking moves that are going on right now within Black British music and give a platform to all of those people who want to move our scene forward.”
CORD is a crucial part of the industry expanding the reach of drill artists. “People are beginning to realise what 10/10 production can do for an artist or seeing their favourite rapper looking like £1 million in a music video,” they said. “The image of an artist is becoming more important than ever, especially due to social media. So they all have their part to play.”
As drill has grown in popularity, so has the number of headlines in parts of the British press demonising the genre and blaming it for fuelling real-world violence. Drill lyrics have been cited in several court cases, and police blamed a gang filming a music video for the shooting of a woman in London Fields in November.
Another high-profile incident was the case of SJ of Tottenham-based group OFB. He was found guilty of the murder of a rival “opp” from Wood Green. Yukki had directed the video that catapulted SJ and his two young colleagues to musical stardom.
“How I see it is what happens, happens regardless,” Yukki said. “That’s just how it is. Before drill it was the same.
“I’m not gonna sit here and say that it doesn’t affect people because we all know music affects people. But drill music specifically has given a lot of opportunities to young people that are from those kind of surroundings.”
He continued: “Everyone is influenced by their surroundings and people’s sounds come out of that. For these young people who have grown up in these surroundings, the drill sound sounds right for them. You can’t really take that away from someone.”
Does CORD feel that these demonising headlines are ever justified? “This is a really complex issue. There is definitely a disconnect between the press and those that make drill music. We think it comes from a lack of understanding and empathy. Journalists need to go into the environments of the artists making drill, actually speak to the artists, their managers and teams and ask them what creating music has done for their lives.
“However, what we usually see with the British press is drill being scapegoated, usually as the cause of crime, which is a redundant and misinformed argument ignoring all other influences, such as education, rising poverty levels, youth centre closures, etc.
“Often the headline can be more interesting than finding out the actual story, which is what we see often with some of the more inflammatory headlines. Until the press are willing to learn and understand a little bit more about the genre and the lives of young people rapping on drill then there will always be a disconnect.”
With channels such as CORD, drill music now has its own press, which is much more connected to the culture. And by showcasing the personalities and the creativity behind the often foreboding music, they could be helping to address that wider disconnect, too.
Words by James Riding and Julian Bovill.
