Roni Size

It’s a month ago and I’m meeting Ryan Williams. You probably know him as Roni Size, the drum & bass legend, aged 38. I’ve just witnessed him and Reprazent conduct a precision sound check at London’s Scala. Now we’re in the basement bar of The Big Chill just down the road. It’s time to get down to the business of interviews. I’m first in, which is a result. I beat the 6 Music girl to the punch. Or was it 1xtra? Either way, she was BBC and much prettier than me. Slip me some cred.

Roni’s dreads are stacked and so is the smile. He’s primed and sharp. He’s obviously been given prior prep for answers. But as I’m about to find out, he’s also ready to be completely candid and share a little piece of himself. He’s in mid chat with his PR agent as we embark. Their conversation is regarding the imminent arrival of an annual awards ceremony. “It’s a shame that I’m working tomorrow because I would’ve loved to have gone down to The Brits and really put my two pence in. I’ve got a lot to talk about”.

These are the mutterings of a man who seemingly has something to prove. Which is odd considering this is the same Roni Size who defeated goliaths such as Radiohead, The Prodigy, Chemical Brothers and Primal Scream in the race for the covetted Mercury Prize a decade ago? Believe it or not, Roni just wasn’t satisfied. As he sees it, the quintuple-platinum New Forms album that bagged the trophy was simply the bare bones of what he really wanted to achieve. Despite its blend of the smooth, rounded edges skimming over shadowy, riotous jungle; despite its plundering of live jazz and double bass; despite it forging a new path with a doth of the cap towards groovy East Coast American hip-hop; despite all this, he wanted to feed us the meat. And very soon, you bumpkins, you shall have it.

New Forms: Part 2 is “a genuine journey, not fabricated”, Roni tells me, almost like a man who has got his back up. “I believe there is a journey. The people that have been following it, they know it, I know it, so let’s just put it out there”. New Forms: Part 2 is a complete re-edit and marks the anniversary of the original. It includes the timeless ‘Brown Paper Bag’, ‘Heroes’ and ‘Share The Fall’ in addition to three new tracks, some video footage and special packaging.

The new work is indicative of Roni’s personal development during that time. A decade on he now has the knowledge to do everything he wants to do. “I had to go back and learn about frequencies and music in general. I feel like these new tracks are my grades”.

Whilst recording the first version, much of the work was archived because Roni “didn’t really know how to put it all together”. For the re-edit, he and his engineer pulled out all the old floppy discs and DAT tapes. This was a process that took some time - “a solid three or four weeks” – but was eventually worth the effort. “It was great to keep everything as an original. All the drums just as they were rather than just taking a loop here and a loop there. You listen to tracks like ‘Less Is More’ and ‘Heart To Heart’. The drums, all the way through, every groove, it all changes. The drum’s got freedom now. We’ve all got freedom. The layers just sound really powerful. It’s electronic but yet it’s still organic”.

Despite his new found technical capabilites – “I can do a lot more a lot quicker now” - Roni still claims to be somewhat of a dolt. “I’m not the best producer in the world, I’m not trying to be. I still use a street attitude”. And the key? “A little bit of tops, a little bit of bass, a little bit of mids, and then let her go”. This is the lesson, furnished with a chuckle at his own simplicity.

So I ask, “You wouldn’t call yourself a gizmo geek, then?”

His riposte, “absolutely not. I’ve got an iPhone in my pocket and I cant even be bothered with it”.

To celebrate the new New Forms occasion, a nine-date UK tour is arranged. It begins in Manchester and ends, a few days after our chat, in his Bristolian hometown. Offering a slight colloquial drawl he admits, “I’m Bristol Rovers mad. I’m a Gashead through and through”.

Reprazent are back together and although they are minus a Krust, “old faithfuls” Onalee and Dynamite are still on board. “As Reprazent, the last show we did was probably in Brazil about seven years ago. It was pretty emotional”, he begins, sounding a little saddened. “To be honest, when we started I always wanted it to be a short term project because I knew as individuals we all had our alternative goals. We all had our own independent status. But then as it got going it was clear to me that the longevity of Reprazent was a lot more positive than I could ever imagine. So when it did all come to an end, for me it was all very premature”.

I’m intrigued by this apparent disheartened profile, so I urge him to continue. “About three years ago I did quite a small, low-key record called Return To V” – (low key for who, Roni? Many would disagree. It featured no less than 18 vocalists, including Beverley Knight and beatbox phenomenom, Rahzel) - “and I toured a new group of kids. I showed them the life and the experience. Unfortunately, they were a bit too young. It was a bit like taking out a young Man United. They didn’t really work the stage and didn’t really have the presence”.

Universal, his bosses at the time, were going through massive changes themselves and, as Roni puts it, “there was noone to really champion what we were doing”. By all accounts this lead Mr Size to have a long chat with Mr Cox, as in Carl, who strongly advised him to take some time out. “So, I just took a voluntary step back from music. I started listening to TalkSport”.

As many people can contest, a fresh look at something old can often reveal surprising results. “When we all came together it was very unintentional and as friends. When we disbanded, we disbanded as friends. Fifty percent of the people involved now are new people. It’s nice to have new fresh blood involved”. So, what of the former collaborators, Roni? “I miss the old faces but I’m not going to cry over spilt milk. I’m going to get on and do what I do, which is music”.

Roni is finding the tour to be odd. He enjoys playing to “a four or five hundred core audience” but never forgets what it was once like. “It was only a few years ago that we were playing alongside Coldplay, and Black Eyed Peas were warming up for us. It’s quite gut-wrenching to look back and know that we have to start right back at the bottom. We’re climbing. I’ve not been this excited about music that I’m making, and about performing live, for a long time. That’s simply due to being around like-minded and positive people who have no hidden agendas. I don’t even need to touch wood because I’m that confident about the way that this band is internally”.

There’s an excitement rising in his temperament as we continue. The prospects that lie ahead for Roni are a breath of fresh air. “Like Onalee last night”, comes the example, “I thought she was going to drill a hole through the stage she was so electric. It was incredible. To feel this way about music is quite hard because some days you cant get out of bed. That’s just the way shit goes down some days, let alone go in the studio. Now, though, you wont keep me out of the studio”.

There’s a hint of hidden demons here so I attempt to extract some of the reasons. Such success can make creative greats falter in their own confidence, so I open up the subject of the Mercury Prize. “Winning the Mercury Music Prize was our mark in history”, he recognises the importance of that particular golden chalice. However, he also reveals how it has turned him, undeservedly, towards self doubt. “I’m very aware of the reasons behind us winning, I’m not ignorant, I’m not stupid. But I’ll take that accolade and I will go forth and I will make sure that I will represent in the correct way. I feel like I do have something to put on the table”.

Curious to find out exactly what he means, I encourage him to open up the chip perched upon his shoulder. “I love Radiohead. What they gave was great. If they’d turned up it would’ve been great. Prodigy, if they’d’ve turned up, y’know, you cant fuck with that album. But they are so anti everything. Chemical Brothers well deserved it. Even the Spice Girls at that time were phenomenal. I know I was in good company but it was the year of the underdog and that is as simply as that. You put me on stage with any of those people now and I will match them. I don’t care”, he alludes to a stroppiness that I have not seen as of yet, the gloves are off. “I will come on after Radiohead and I will do the best I can. I know now that I’m schooled, I’ve done my time, I’ve done my ten years. I’ve got the team of people that are capable to go on major stages. I haven’t really got anything to prove but”, this sounds like a BIG but, “I appreciate at that point in time what we did because we spawned a generation. The Goldies, the Grooveriders, everyone that was involved in drum and bass, because they’re still going now. It’s still fucking pretty strong. It pops it’s head up every now and again and then it goes back down to the underground”.

As quickly as it began, the rant begins to fade. What makes it especially poignant is that my leading question was nothing but a harmless probe about people he would like to work with in the future. Sometimes a man just needs to vent.

“Perhaps this album is reaching out to someone in particular”, I suggest.

“More than anything, I think I had some points to prove to myself but I wanted to do justice to the people that gave the award. I don’t want to go down in history as a bad bet. I feel that maybe the Mercury judges saw something. I’m hoping they saw something. This is me saying ‘look guys, I know you took a chance on me but this is how it’s supposed to sound’. Some people get it and then they’ll say ‘ah yeh, but I prefer the original’ and I say ‘cool, as long as you like one of them, I don’t give a shit’”.

Roni is currently still with Universal and insists he isn’t scouting for a deal. “But if someone comes along and gets what I’m about and they feel that they can work with me, then we can sit down, have dinner and talk”. He’s beginning to look like a man with a hunger, but a man who is willing to hold out for the main course. “I’m not trying to get anywhere fast. I’m enjoying just being up on stage and playing bass. People always say ‘ah, you’re that guy with the dreads who plays bass’ and they kind of forget about the drums because they know that really it’s all about the bass”.

I want to say “You’re dead right there, Roni” but the phone he is toying with suddenly cuts in. He offers me his apologies. Apparently, it’s his son’s birthday and the boy keeps phoning. Likewise, I then offer my apologies for coming between them. He replies, “No, no, no. it’s fine”. Seconds later and I’m apologising again. This time it’s because I’m the unintentional bearer of bad news. I ask him if he’s heard the latest about his old friend, Grooverider. He hurriedly replies, “No, is he out?”

Apprehensively, I tell him, “errr, no, he’s been sentenced to four years. I was just going to ask you what you felt about that”. His face goes the shade of pale shock.

Uhh-ooh.

“I’m absolutely gutted” he mutters. He can hardly speak. “I’m absolutely gutted” he repeats, “how did that happen?”. I try to explain but he interrupts, “Yeh, I know what happened, but I don’t like that. Damn”.

I make an attempt to diffuse the awkwardness by asking a few ad-lib theme questions concerning his ‘last’ whatever: the last album he was blown away by - “Nicole Willis. Absolutely incredible. It’s old school veteran. It’s motown soul”; the last time he won something - “I did a pub quiz about a month ago but we never won. I think we came last. We won best at losing”; or the last time he uttered the words “Get in my son!” – “Probably today. I didn’t watch it on Saturday”, (he’s refering Rover’s triumph in the Cup), “We don’t say that, though. We say ‘Gerrin thrrr, kid, gerrin thrrr’”.

Sensing his lighter side returning to the room, I push the boat out and regrettably ask who was the last person to piss him off. “You just pissed me off, man. About Grooverider. You just pissed me off. I’m gutted. I’m fucking absolutely gutted. I’m absolutely pissed right off”.

Oh.

I offer to bring the mood back up. He abruptly replies, “I don’t know if you can”.

Moment’s later, he persuades me that I’m not to blame and that I shouldn’t be so silly. He even calls me “bruv”, which is reassuring.

So, even though he danced around the intent of some of my questioning and despite pissing him off, I still get the sense that he still loves me as an artist should love his fans. His demeanour later in the performance certainly isn’t affected. It’s a sell-out Scala crowd and everybody, bar none, is bobbing they’re head. Especially Roni. Gerrin thrrr, kid, gerrin thrrr.