By 2006, grime had already covered an almost unfathomable amount of ground. From early emcee-led experiments in garage by acts like So Solid Crew and Pay As U Go Kartel, to genre-defining instrumentals like “Pulse X” and “Eskimo Riddim”, to acclaimed solo albums by Dizzee Rascal, Wiley and Kano, grime’s first half-decade felt like relentless rush towards the future. Fuelled by veteran formats like pirate radio and new media like Channel U and MySpace alike, grime acts were celebrated by both their peers and outside trend-chasers looking for the next big thing.

Yet from the inside looking out, storm clouds were brewing: Dizzee’s Mercury Prize was a nice feather in XL’s cap, but for the labels signing emcees amidst a P2P-piracy fuelled sales crunch, critical acclaim wasn’t enough, not when American rappers were going multi-platinum. This friction, along with a perceived lack of respect for grime acts by well-heeled label heads and journalists, led to delayed album releases, disillusioned artists and, eventually, a decline in media-attention as fair weather fans moved on. A few cynics were even already declaring grime dead.

That this would only be the first of grime’s so called “deaths” says a lot about the genre’s resilience and adaptability in a changing music landscape, with emcees and producers treating this early adversity as an opportunity to reinvent their music. In 2006, faced with the financial strain of MP3 piracy and a decline in vinyl singles sales, artists and crews pivoted towards rap’s mixtape format on CD and MP3. Suddenly, the genre’s driving force moved away from DJ-led dance singles and prestige albums to home-made compilations aimed squarely at home listeners rather than label execs trying to find East London’s answer to 50 Cent. The result was an explosion of home brewed, long-form projects, mostly rough around the edges but all the more engaging for it. From the genre’s biggest stars to up-and-coming names, it seemed as if everyone had a mixtape in ‘06, with the best efforts standing out as some of the grime’s best music ever.

With that in mind, here’s 6 for ‘06: a selection of underrated mixtapes from grime’s CD-burning, file-sharing boom era. This list isn’t exhaustive: in fact, we’ve purposefully focused on lower-key releases that aren’t necessarily well-represented in the streaming era, but if you want to read about Jme and Skepta’s string of BBK classics, we’ve got you covered too.

The mixtape boom wasn’t just about CDs. Just as advances in PC-based home recording technology freed artists from the shackles of expensive studio time, cheap digital cameras and cracked video editing software meant that, suddenly, anyone with a bit of ambition could document musical culture in real time. This was particularly crucial for grime, which hadn’t yet built up the kind of media infrastructure and slick professionalism that hip-hop and R&B relied on. That means Slew Dem’s Non Stop Working, on CD and double DVD, isn’t just another collection of tunes: it’s a genuinely precious primary source for music historians, documenting studio sessions and radio sets that would otherwise be lost to time. Which is hilarious, if you think about it, because nothing about Slew Dem says “concerned with media archival practices.” Instead, Chronik, G-Man, Tempa T, Esco (R.I.P.), Rage, Pit and crew dedicate their mic time to describing the multitude of ways they will annihilate opps on-road. CD highlights include the dancehall-sampling “Joy Ride”, which would later be remixed ad infinitum, and Chronik’s “Way Down The Road”, a heart-pumping anthem that can turn even the meekest listeners into gangsters in their own mind. As for the DVDs, the footage is grainy and the sound quality amateurish at best, but there’s an undeniable energy to every scene, and it’s as close to a time machine back to grime’s initial explosion as we’ll ever get.

Having already released their debut, Guns N Roses Vol 1, in 2005 to strong acclaim, Ruff Sqwad were ahead of the curve in ‘06. Informally financed by Wiley, who invited the then-teenage crew to Roll Deep’s label-funded studio recording sessions, both Guns N Roses tapes are shining examples of grime’s transition from a radio and singles-based format to one dominated by mixtapes and albums. On one hand, the tempo mostly sticks to grime’s 140BPM roots, with plenty of bass-forward ammunition for DJs—both in raves and on radio. On the other, tracks like “War” and the Cutting Crew-sampling “Died In Your Arms” introduce Dipset-adjacent, chipmunk soul to proceedings, providing an ideal canvas for the crew to open up socially and emotionally. For early bloggers, this was huge, considering grime’s reputation as violent and anti-social, but for grime’s audience, it was more proof of what we already knew: there was no limit to the emotional territory the genre could explore. Then there’s Tinchy Stryder, who had already begun staking his claim as the crew’s breakout star on his own solo mixtape for Boy Better Know. Here, on tracks like “Nug”, he’s a force of nature, attacking the beat with the same intensity that would earn him instant reloads during live sets. For the most part, however, Guns N Roses Vol. 2 is a family affair, and the joy of hearing a bunch of friends impress each other in the studio remains palpable, 20 years later.

Jammer had been a force to be reckoned with behind the boards since grime’s emergence in 2001, but he truly came into his own as an emcee with 2005’s “Murkle Man”, a rave-destroying anthem then-rivalled only by Lethal B’s “Pow!” in terms of energy. However, his debut mixtape, Are You Dumb Vol. 1, switched things up, with Jammer partially abandoning his Eski-leaning self-production in favour of beats by newcomers Crayzee Bandit, Rude Kid and C. Gritz that mixed grime’s increasingly horror-tinged beats with the latest American styles. The tape’s first tracks make a particular point of sampling U.S. classics like “I Got 5 On It”, “Hot Boyz” and “Hustlin’”, highlighting the common ground between torpid 70BPM crunk and grime’s high-octane, 140BPM bangers. Today, that overlap is taken for granted, but for grime artists entering an industry that demanded superstars, any move that nudged the scene towards U.S. rap standards—while still keeping the genre’s characteristic style—felt like a revelation. Mostly though, Are You Dumb Vol. 1 is all about Jammer on the mic, with his one-of-a-kind cadence and intensity dominating throughout—no matter what beat he’s shelling on. Call him cartoonish if you want; on Are You Dumb, Jammer cemented himself as one of grime’s biggest personalities, and an artist unafraid to take the genre out of its comfort zone.

Another Jammer-affiliated project, Neckle Camp featured Jahmek as well as his cousin, Knuckles, Ears, Gully Rainjah and producer Angry. You know a project’s controversial when its Discogs description, of all places, mentions unpaid rappers and stolen beats, but put that aside and Straight Necklin is a banging set that could only exist as grime was transitioning from pirate sessions to CDs. A mixtape in the truest sense of the word, the project is a collection of studio tracks that’s nevertheless structured with the same rapid-fire energy as a radio session, with various East London emcees showing up for a few bars and ducking out. While Jammer’s solo efforts sought to expand grime’s footprint by incorporating outside influences, Straight Necklin is red meat for the mandem—pure, uncut grime that doubled down on hollowed-out squarewave basslines and rave influences. While grime acts were on the cusp of reaching out for pop stardom, with mixed results, Straight Necklin was the mixtape of choice for listeners who already loved grime for what it was.

Grime didn’t exist in a vacuum—by ‘06, it was already cross-pollinating with various strains of UK and American hip-hop, predicting the rise of road rap and, later, UK drill. This S.K.I.T.Z Beatz compilation is a perfect example of that melting pot in action, with future UK rap stars like Akala rubbing shoulders with Dipset affiliates Purple City and grime stalwarts like Tempa T (though, sadly, not on the YouTube version). The throughline here is Skitz’s production, which sticks to grime’s tempo but downplays any lingering UKG influences in favour of the rough, digital presets and pitch-shifted samples that defined 106 & Park chart-toppers in NYC and new-school dancehall bangers in Jamaica. Just as importantly, In The Zone—which opens with an introduction by scene stalwart Logan Sama—is a reminder that for most listeners, grime remained a genre defined by hot tracks rather than the kind of worldbuilding and sound design critics loved in Dizzee Rascal’s Boy In Da Corner. Though that may have pushed some listeners elsewhere—notably towards dubstep’s atmospheric moodiness—it’s also part of the genre’s charm: every track here feels like an emcee giving it their all, with the energy never dipping.

OK, we’re cheating a bit: DJ Wonder’s Welcome To Wonderland is a proper album released on DJ Target’s epochal Dump Valve label, rather than a mixtape—complete with hi-fidelity sound and even a contemporary streaming release. But far be it for us to exclude it on a technicality, not when it’s a perfect example of grime’s evolving aesthetic during its mid-00s peak. Combining instrumentals and vocals by names like God’s Gift, Kano, Bruza and Rhyme Syndicate, and even early stabs at mixing grime with R&B and indie, Welcome To Wonderland is a perfect sampler pointing to the various directions the genre was exploring. Though it doesn’t feature “What”, Wonder’s signature tune (and the direct inspiration for Wiley’s “Morgue”), the album still stands out for its minimalistic half-step, particularly on the WWF theme-sampling “Undertaker”, probably the single best use of an electric guitar in grime. Predicting both R&G’s sweetness and grime’s compatibility with minimalist dubstep, Welcome To Wonderland more than deserves its flowers and a renewed look, 20 years on.