Brothers Mikey Dread and Jah T have spent close to half a century championing sound system culture across the globe, but it’s their annual appearance at Notting Hill Carnival – where they’ve set-up on the same corner since the 1980s – that has made Channel One Sound System the totemic institution that it is, channelling heavyweight bass straight into the heart of the dub reggae movement.
As they get ready to return this year for Carnival’s 60th anniversary, Anu Shukla sits down with Mikey to discuss the origins, evolution and living legacy of Channel One, and the unifying spirit that has guided their consciousness vibration since day one.
We just do what we do,” says Mikey Dread, who’s as laid back as you might imagine as he discusses the legacy of Channel One, the hand-built sound system he’s manned with his brother Jah T since 1979.
He may be nonchalant about it, but that’s 47 years spent flying the flag for sound system culture – of channelling heavyweight bass straight into the heart of the global dub reggae movement.
We’re speaking to Mikey, AKA Michael Bailey, ahead of the 60th anniversary edition of Notting Hill Carnival, the world’s second-largest street festival, which has taken place every August Bank Holiday weekend – bar 2020 and 2021 – since 1966 as a celebration of Caribbean culture in London and as a joyful symbol of anti-colonial resistance.
Each year, an estimated two million people head West to revel amongst the steel bands, mas dancers and sound systems that make this annual event so special.
As they have reliably done since the 1980s, Channel One will set up on the corner of Leamington Road Villas and Westbourne Park Road, a meeting place for young dub heads, sound system elders and curious carnivalists alike.
After spending Friday night hosting a warm-up event at Village Underground, they’ll spend Sunday (30th) and Monday (31st) transmitting the consciousness vibration to the streets, welcoming passers by of all ages into their deep roots rock reggae soundscape.
They come to engage and learn," says Mikey when asked how it feels to watch younger generations continue to embrace the sounds he and his brother have been sharing for close to half a century.
I have to have faith in them. Our generation of sound systems kept things alive for decades, but we won't be around forever, so they’ve got to come up and do good.
It's now up to the new generation to really put their stamp on it.
If they want Carnival to carry on for the next 60 years, that will be down to them," he adds. "Keeping that corner going so long has been hard graft, so it's even more important they take note and know their role as time goes on.
It’s not all about educating the next generation, he emphasises. "I know people who will hear certain tunes and say, 'I remember when I used to play that music in my living room in the ‘70s',” he says.
Through sound systems, Black music and Black culture, mindsets were changing, and now we're going all over the world, 38 countries so far, influencing many other people to build their sound systems too.
Mikey and Jah T, AKA Trevor Bailey, were only teenagers themselves when they experienced the energy of amplified music at Carnival for the first time. This was in 1973, after director Leslie “Teacher” Palmer introduced sound systems to Carnival to help pull young Caribbean crowds out of underground shebeens – where they sought sanctuary from the widespread culture that ostracised them and their music – and into the streets.
The arrival of sound systems at Carnival stampmarked a sea-change – a revolutionary moment that set the trajectory for the birth of UK bass music at large, and a tectonic shift for a generation who could finally step out of the shadows to dance freely.
Like most young people, of course, we were excited about it," recalls Mikey. "Anyone wanting to get involved with sound systems and music overall would feel the same.
We thought, 'Yeah, if we can get to do this in a few years' time, then why not?' We didn't know it was going to happen, it was just something you have to work towards.
It happened. Mikey and Jah T inherited their dad's Admiral Bailey sound system in 1979 and renamed it Channel One after the enormously influential Kingston, Jamaica studio where iconic songs like Sister Nancy’s 'Bam Bam', The Mighty Diamonds’ 'Right Time' and Delroy Wilson’s ‘It’s A Shame’ were recorded.
Four years later, they played their first Carnival gig to a packed out cavernous open-front garage from a 22 foot, 7. 5 tonne truck. “The speaker stacks sounded really good and we would still be going until 9:45PM,” Mikey recalls.
From there, Channel One Sound System hit the road. "We started playing at quite a lot of universities up and down the country to people who had never heard or experienced a sound system before the '80s," says Mikey.
We played at polytechnics and colleges with Bad Manners, Aswad, Misty in Roots. It was the first time these students had ever experienced sound system culture.”.
They loved putting their heads into the speakers when the bass dropped,” he recalls with a smile. “Our boxes then were seven feet tall. We laugh and joke about it, but we played in places like Westfield University, which was very conservative.
It’s where Thatcher studied. That was our constituency and we played our sound system there for the first time with Bad Manners. When you saw these rich white kids going crazy, sometimes you realised in that moment that some of them would be the leaders of tomorrow.
They used to go crazy and silly, throwing beer over one another's heads. And these are rich kids coming from rich houses.
Half of Carnival wouldn't be there if sound systems were stopped. Carnival just wouldn't look the same.
Channel One projected those chest-rattling basslines of their handbuilt speaker stacks through student unions across the UK – from Wolverhampton, Bradford, Swansea, Carlisle and Northumberland to Essex, Bath, Bournemouth, Exeter and an obligatory stop at the London College of Printing.
We tried to take a different route than just playing in the Black community,” Mikey explains. “[We were] taking the sound system out.
He recalls watching ravers on ecstasy flock to the “second room” of '80s warehouse raves where Channel One would be set up. "There were the skinheads and people who had experienced Rock Against Racism," he recalls.
The influence builds up over time." Rave and reggae, rastas and ravers, all united in blissful harmony at DIY parties thrown across north, south and east London.
You were bringing people into a different environment to what they're used to, so you're fusing people together – white ravers, Asians and Black people, not just rastas.
Sound system culture intrinsically helped smash discriminatory attitudes among younger generations in a still overtly racist ‘80s Britain. "Through sound systems, Black music and Black culture, mindsets were changing," Mikey explains.
And now we're going all over the world, 38 countries so far, influencing many other people to build their sound systems too. It's a spiritual experience.
Come and join the spiritual movement, the Rastafari movement. It's where you can bring your children and enjoy the weekend, that's the only thing I can say.
Channel One Sound System has been through a lot over the decades since, but like Carnival itself, they’ve won plenty of battles. These include their victory over affluent Notting Hill residents who tried to drive them out of Carnival in 2014 over "excessive noise.
A petition signed by more than 8,500 people put those complaints to bed, with Channel One and other threatened sound systems, including Sir Lloyd and Killawatt, being granted a permanent license by Westminster Council.
The sound system community came together from all over the world and [authorities] realised how powerful the movement was,” Mikey remembers “We hadn't done anything wrong.
When we won the license, the residents got up and walked out, but some of them decided, 'Well, it's not really a bad thing after all’.
The threat of the complainants was very real however, and Mikey knew at the time that if they managed to drive Channel One out, "then other sound system crews would fall and be kicked out too." It's an unthinkable scenario at an event where sound system culture is such a critical component, not to mention an essential aspect of Caribbean cultural expression.
The preservation of Carnival has always been treated as an extension of wider struggles and the fight for social justice faced by the local community. The Westway flyover and Acklam Road – where Channel One first played Carnival – were a literal battleground for the Black British civil rights movement.
This peaked in 1976 when Carnivalgoers hit back against racist police brutality and the weaponisation of SUS laws that pointlessly arrested scores of young Black people.
Mikey recalls running from the scene towards Westbourne Grove.
The riots were in full force but the music never stopped,” he recalls. “There were sound systems on each corner and they couldn't stop every single one. I couldn't tell you what records were playing.
You're just trying to get away. Fighting was going on between the establishment and Carnivalgoers and you don't want to get involved in that situation.
In the face of modern curfews, ongoing gentrification, pedestrian restrictions, and complaints from residents who knowingly move into an area known for hosting one of the world's biggest celebrations of Caribbean culture, sound systems thrive on.
Carnival, with its mas bands and steelpan groups, remains a living testament to anti-colonial resistance and pan-Caribbean culture, from Trinidad to Jamaica. Mikey's message to people celebrating this year's 60th anniversary of Carnival is simple.
The sound system he and his brother inherited from their father has evolved beyond anything they first imagined, and one wonders what they reckon he would think about the journey it's been on over all those years.
I think he would be proud," says Mikey. "He's not known, and our mother's not known how far the sound system has come along, or all the countries we've played in.
When asked if there’s any surprises up Channel One’s sleeve to mark the occasion of Carnival’s 60th anniversary, Mikey’s as cool and direct as ever. “There's nothing special I can do,” he says.
Want more? Read a history of UK sound system culture here and check out these photos that capture 50 years of Notting Hill carnival here.
