In a historic gun barrel factory in Sheffield, the atmosphere is alive with energy. Young Laber, sporting sunglasses, moves through a cloud of steam as the thumping bass reverberates throughout the building. At the center of this lively scene is a 48-year-old woman who doesn’t quite look the part of a DJ, yet commands the room with her infectious dance tracks. She’s known as the Queen of Baseline, a title reflecting her influence.
Angela Weston, also known as Big Anne, highlights a moment that reminds everyone that someone like her—a seemingly ordinary girl from Yorkshire—can create something spiritual through music. “I’ve always believed in the genre,” she says, confessing that the baseline truly runs through her veins.
Often overshadowing male MCs and female vocalists, Bassline is defined by its deep, wobbling beats set against four-on-the-floor rhythms. Although it has roots in Speed Garage, the sound has grown into its own distinct identity throughout the North and Midlands. As this genre experiences a revival, a celebratory event is on the horizon—Bassline Symphony, combining forces with genre pioneers Jamie Duggan, DJ Q, and TS7 alongside producer Katie Chatburn and the Orchestra of Opera North. “It feels like coming full circle,” shares Bradford DJ Thomas Sampson (aka TS7), reminiscing about sneaking into clubs like Boiler House during his teenage years. There’s considerable history tied to this city.
But keeping Baseline alive required the fierce dedication of artists like Big Anne. The idea of government backing for a family-friendly Baseline event seems amusing in hindsight. “For a spell, it felt like the world was against us,” Duggan recalls, noting how he was once blacklisted in many cities and faced significant challenges.
This struggle followed the infamous closure of two clubs linked to the Sheffield scene. The first shut down in 2005 due to a massive police operation that turned out to be a bust—the club could never secure a reopening license after that. A second closure in 2010, prompted by violent incidents, effectively ended an era. This harmed the careers of prominent DJs like Duggan and Shaun Banger Scott, as Bassline became stigmatized as a hotspot for trouble. “Attending police and city council meetings became part of my life,” Duggan reflects.
Originally opened in 1992, the first niche club was an unassuming concrete space running from midnight to midday. It wasn’t glamorous, but in the 2000s, artists like Big Ann and DJ Budda began to forge what would later be recognized as Baseline. “Do you have a niche song?” became an often-asked question at record shops, signaling the growing popularity. Big Ann describes her production during that time as deeply inspired by classic speed garage sounds, creating tracks that resonated with audiences.
She began crafting music at just 13, reflecting a natural talent that enabled her to juggle multiple jobs while making a name for herself as a DJ and producer. When critics dismissed her work, her response was to rise above it, famously creating a track that hit number 29 in the UK Top 40. “They just can’t knock Big Ann down,” she asserts.
For many fans, traveling long distances to hear this music was a norm. “People wouldn’t leave until they heard certain songs,” Duggan notes, underscoring how dedicated the audience became. Sunday morning sets, often considered an odd time, drew dedicated followers eager to experience the music. “They’d wake up, clean their cars, and drive for hours just to be there,” he adds.
The energy in these venues was electric. Initially alcohol-free, the spaces thrived on a mix of pills and energetic dances. DJ Nev Wright remembers certain fans creating fireballs with aerosol cans as a way to enjoy the moment. The scene extended beyond Sheffield to cities like Bradford, Birmingham, and Leeds, proving its widespread appeal. T2, a producer, recalls exploiting taxi drivers just to witness the performances. “We paid to simply hang outside and soak it all in,” he reminisces.
Despite years of battling negative perceptions surrounding their beloved genre, DJs and producers couldn’t help but appreciate the edgy allure that came with it. “It attracted the more mischievous crowd,” Taunesvi observes.
Notably, club culture and music were in sync, and live sets recorded by niche DJs became prized possessions. Everyone wanted a copy. “They were everywhere,” Wright recalls. “From after-parties to cars—it was truly a phenomenon.”
As a working-class derived dance music subgenre, it took time for Bassline to gain recognition, often being disregarded in the media. “We were overlooked for a long time,” Wright notes, but this allowed a unique sound and identity to flourish. “Growing up, I noticed Grime was mainly tied to London while Bassline had a distinctly Northern vibe—raw and unfiltered,” Sampson explains.
One significant turning point was T2’s hit “Heartbroken” in 2007, co-written with Jodie Aysha. For Tawonezvi, the success came at a crucial time in his life. “I was in tough situations, just trying to stay out of trouble,” he reflects. The song led him to a pivotal moment right before a court appearance. “My life could’ve turned out so differently,” he admits. Following this, compilations like Ministry of Sound’s Baseline came out, pushing the genre forward. Duggan shares, “When I tried to shut it down, it only spread more.”
Today, new artists are emerging, including Warpfit, Silva Bumba, Notion, and others. Even Jorja Smith’s recent single, hinting at Baseline, shows the genre’s continued relevance. And the interplanetary criminals are proudly sporting “Big Ang Forever” shirts, spinning tracks for enthusiastic younger fans.
Weston reflects, “This has truly surprised me; I’m incredibly proud. Everything I believed has come to fruition, showcasing a vibrant community of talent.” Duggan adds, “Being involved from the start makes me smile at how it’s all recognized now—good and bad.”
