Don Letts on Big Audio Dynamite

Don Letts is the film-maker who documented punk rock as it happened, and was the highly influential DJ at the Roxy club in London in 1977, where he schooled young punks in reggae grooves. He has also played a significant part in UK electronic music history as the samples man for Big Audio Dynamite, the band formed by Mick Jones after he was ousted from The Clash.

The inimitable humour of the self-styled ‘rebel dread’ shines through here as he talks about Big Audio Dynamite’s hybrid multicultural sound, getting away with sonic larceny and why he had to put stickers all over his keyboards when playing live with the band.

Back in the mid-eighties when you started , Big Audio Dynamite looked like a gang of swashbuckling, stylish, righteous dudes who knew all the best tunes. Was that the kind of image you were trying to put across?

I think ‘Medicine Show’ [from 1985 debut album This is Big Audio Dynamite] was really like a manifesto of what the band was about. We were just doing our thing and having a good time, and that imagery - that's just how we dressed at the time, you know? We didn't get dressed up to look like that. That's how we really were back then.

You were a multiracial group doing this hip-hop/rock hybrid music, that was quite unusual in Britain at that point, wasn't it?

Well, apparently so. Big Audio Dynamite was just a reflection of the multicultural way that London was going at that time and the sounds that we were tuned into – Jamaican basslines, the New York hip-hop beats that were coming out stateside, with UK rock’n’roll guitar all over it.

It wasn’t like, “OK, let’s have a Black guy in the group, let’s have a dread in the group.” We were mates. Essentially we were working-class kids in a multicultural city who turned our combination of music and style into an art form.

You were also one of the first bands to use samples live.

I played samples because I couldn’t fucking play anything else. I mean, basically, I don't know if you know the back story of this - Mick Jones gets kicked out of The Clash, and he's moping around for a while. And one day, I'm in a club with him and my Rasta mate, a guy called Leo Williams, he's in Dreadzone now. And Mick's standing between us and he says, “We look like a group! We should start a group.” And I'm like, “What the fuck, Mick - I can't play anything.” To which he basically said, “Well neither could [The Clash's bassist] Paul [Simonon] initially.”

Which is true. Paul Simonon couldn’t play when he joined The Clash and used to have coloured stickers on the frets of his bass to show him what to do. The difference between me and him is that Paul eventually got rid of his stickers. I never did and through my whole time with Big Audio Dynamite, when I was on stage I had coloured stickers on my fucking keyboard to know where to trigger the samples.

How did you go about choosing which samples you wanted to use?

So Mick's got me in the band, Big Audio Dynamite, and everybody can play an instrument except Don Letts. Pre this happening, The Clash had released Sandinista! with the track ‘Magnificent Seven’. One of the Black New York radio stations, WBLS, picked up on it and did a remix where they put in samples of Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry, “Come on punk, make my day!”, and a bit of Bugs Bunny. I’m sure that that sowed some seeds in Mick’s head with the whole sample and dialogue thing.

So Mick just left me to it. So while they're laying down the tracks, I'm listening to bits and pieces of things because we have similar tastes, me and Mick, you know, we're of the same age, we have same kind of cultural totems, particularly in cinema. And I'd start putting things that I thought were appropriate to some of the subject matter that Mick was developing, for instance, Medicine Show, which we actually co-wrote, you know, it was kind of based on the whole idea of conmen in the West robbing people, taking their money, tricksters basically, hustlers, and we saw ourselves as kind of musical hustlers.

Anyway, somewhat predictably, we’re both fans of Sergio Leone and we're just straight in there with The Good, The Bad and The Ugly and stuff like that. And obviously gave the songs a distinct flavour. But I've got to say this, the thing about BAD is that the samples and the dialogue were only salt and pepper to that main meal. As far as we were concerned, you should be able to take the samples and loops out and still have a song.

The other thing I guess I've got to point out is that we did this before anybody else commercially. Obviously I knew Holger Czukay was sampling stuff from FM radio back in the day [on the album Movies] and I knew Byrne and Eno’s Life in the Bush of Ghosts. So I wouldn’t say we originated it, I’d say that we were the first to have commercial hits with it.

And it was so early in the day that the lawyers didn’t know what was going on and we got away with it. We sampled from the fucking best – from Scarface right through to Sergio Leone to the Ealing comedies and Nicolas Roeg, and we only got hammered for using a song from West Side Story.

Anyway, about the sample and dialogue thing, like I said, we started early and got away with it but the law suits were just around around the corner, as demonstrated by [the legal action against hip-hop band] De La Soul [over their sample-heavy 1989 album Three Feet High and Rising].

But I quickly realised that you also don't get paid for stealing other people's shit. So I quickly threw myself, again with Mick's guidance, into lyric writing. And that was really my main contribution to the band. I mean, the first thing I cowrote with Mick was ‘E=MC2’  - full of samples by the way, various Nic Roeg films, who we were both big fans of. And from then on, you know, I co-wrote lots of the songs with Mick. So everybody makes a big deal out of the sampling thing, but what I'm most proud of, besides getting to write some songs with Mick Jones, is my lyrical contribution.

But I felt Joe Strummer breathing down my neck the whole time. Because I mean, how the fuck do you compete with that? No, really! I The whole time I was with Mick, I felt a tremendous responsibility. I can't lie. You know, it's not a space to fuck around with. Even though I can't play anything, I have tremendous respect for that space. That's why when people call me a musician, out of respect for what I understand that to be, I put my hand up and go, “I'm not really a musician”... says the man who has just signed a record deal with Cooking Vinyl!

Not bad for a non-musician.

Well, obviously, over the years I've co-written stuff with BAD and Dreadzone, and I've done other musical bits and pieces. And people say to me, you'd be surprised how many people are in this business that can't actually play an instrument.

But I still don't feel comfortable calling myself a musician because I can't stand toe-to-toe with somebody like Mick Jones in the studio where he throws something down and I throw something back. That's not me. You know, God forbid that I ever could be a musician because I'd be fucking intolerable! I'm being serious. It keeps me humble, you know?

Big Audio Dynamite established a very specific sound and got great reviews but never really had massive hits.

I’ve always said, we were more cred than bread. Chart-wise we didn't do all that, you know? I've always said, for those that are supposed to know, they know. I'm a bit too close to see the impact that it had and its legacy. But you know, I'm proud of being a part of that whole journey.

Big Audio Dynamite was about beats and samples, so what did you think about the acid house scene when it came along in 1988?

I saw it as a part of an expression that these youth had to go through, and I liked that, although it didn't last very long because very soon it got back to making money and taking everybody's dosh, but initially, it was a beautiful thing. You know, anything that brings people together for a synchronised collective experience with a fucking wicked soundtrack, I'm right there. And tell you what, you know, I ain't gonna lie, the E was alright too before the crims got involved.

I spent my time in the fields, I know what I'm talking about. But it was somebody else's soundtrack. I did recognise that, although the reggae influence never left that scene. It informed a lot of it.

That's true, reggae was a major factor in some of the tracks made in the UK.

On one end of the spectrum, there's The Prodigy. On the other end of the spectrum, there's The Orb, and within that dynamic there's a lot of room for Don Letts to operate, you know? So I just saw it as part of this ongoing sonic dynamic that brought like-minded people together. It was all about the bass. It was all about the b-line, man. And that was where I was coming from.

You mentioned The Prodigy. There were all these kind of electronic rock bands that emerged in the 1990s like The Prodigy and the Chemical Brothers.

I love The Prodigy by the way, fucking wicked!

Do you think Big Audio Dynamite were a kind of precursor to these electronic rock bands using hip-hop beats and samples with big riffs?

Nah, nah, I ain't going there! That's for people like you to sit and work out if there are any dots to join. You know, we had a part to play, might have been a small part, we might be a rock’n’roll footnote, but we're in the mix. We're in the mix.

I wouldn't dare to suggest that we could've inspired anybody. But the fundamental elements were heavy basslines, cool beats, rock’n’roll guitar and a bit of hip-hop going on. And that still stands firm, I tell you.

Interview by Matthew Collin for ‘Dream Machines’, July 28, 2022.

Photo: @lettsdon/Instagram.

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