When I first moved to Bristol from Brighton six months ago, I struggled to see beyond the overwhelming mass of events dedicated to the city’s ever-prominent love for drum & bass and dubstep, two sounds that are alive and very well in that part of the country. It reminded me of the years I’d lived in Brighton, where any event you attended—no matter what it was promoted as—would turn out to be a techno night. Of course, this is not to undermine the fact that some of the best nights out I had when I first moved to South West England’s cultural hub were coincidentally dubstep and D&B events, namely the Stomp Project. But in the same way Brighton duo Frankie Stew & Harvey Gunn had introduced me to a small world of hip-hop artists that characterised the coastal city, I wanted to find a similar scene that spoke for Bristol.

At the top of the year, I happened to stumble across a rare gem by the name of Fruit Machine, which at the time operated as an open-mic night every Wednesday at 9pm at the St Nicholas Street venue, Mr. Wolfs. Fruit Machine was launched in June 2019 by Lawottim Anywar, who had hoped to create an inclusive label and platform accessible to all artists. The weekly event, which allows any willing audience members to participate, is entirely freestyled and experimental; it encourages performers to showcase their own unique sound whilst still being a part of the collective. As a newcomer to the night, it wasn’t always evident that the sound was improvised. Perhaps it’s the inclusive environment that Fruit Machine’s created that consistently delivers a seemingly rehearsed night of soulful hip-hop, jazz, and funk.

After realising that there was a strong appreciation and demand for hip-hop in Bristol, I wanted to find out how extensive the scene was. Asking around led me almost immediately to the name Split Prophets (pictured), a collective made up of eight artists, including Badhabitz, Datkid and one of the city’s most celebrated rappers, Res One. Split Prophets released their first EP, Scribbled Thoughts, in 2011—a time when boom-bap and jazz-inspired UK hip-hop was about to hit a resurgence. As a result of both timing and indisputable talent, they received almost immediate acclaim, going on to support the Wu Tang-Clan and MF Doom on tour.

Despite becoming one of the most successful crews to rise up from the city, Split Prophets are by no means an origin point for hip-hop in Bristol; they exist within a longer tradition that stretches back to the Windrush generation, when a large influx of Caribbean immigrants made the South West their home. It was in the 1980s that Bristol’s underground scene was born, with musicians and graffiti artists merging their crafts to make a sound and style synonymous with the city. Split Prophets’ sound is much more fast-paced and intense than the hip-hop of the ‘80s and ‘90s, but it’s the ‘weird’ and ‘nitty’ elements that make their music so characteristically Bristolian.

Moving into more recent years, there has been a wave of artists aiming to keep the city’s hip-hop scene on a roll, including Pupils Of The Clock, Creatures Of Habit, Chillman and Illinformed. Pupils Of The Clock, a duo consisting of MC Lazy Eyez and Tok, identify themselves as “hip-hop through and through” as they seek to preserve elements of the genre that other artists are happy to disregard for the sake of experimentation. Green Bricks Records, who now represent both Res One and Lazy Eyez, also offer an example of one of the many independent labels in Bristol seeking to promote the unique talent of South West England.

In a 2018 interview, Res One explained that it is rarely the case that specific venues will offer a platform for Bristol hip-hop acts as most nights are organised externally, however there is always opportunity for people to create platforms themselves. Despite there seemingly being a lack of genre diversity to a new resident of the city, Bristol’s hip-hop scene is a vibrant one—you just have to look close enough. To this day, Bristol remains a city with a thriving arts movement and an undeniable sense of community, so whatever niche sound it is you’re looking for, it’s bound to exist here. Having discovered Bristol’s diverse, underground hip-hop scene for myself, I feel a sense of attachment to the place I now call home.