Photo by Rebekka Guðleifsdóttir

Interviewing Mala felt like a task as heavy as the bass weight that made him famous. He’s not only one of the greatest producers, DJs, and labelheads the movement has birthed; he’s also one of the only bigwigs left who has appeared to stay on course, continuing to make sophisticated music that the term “dubstep” might accurately describe. But to label the man born Mark Lawrence as some musically conservative ideologue or dubplate-wielding Luddite would grossly misconstrue the singular tip this Digital Mystik is on. I recently spoke with Mala over the phone about the downsides of the Internet, the virtues of not having a codified creative process, and the general aura of greatness that surrounds Moritz von Oswald.

You’ve shied away from the term “dubstep” in the past, but just in the last couple of years there’s been a lot of interesting things going on in dubstep. It used to be music rigidly defined by tempo, by an emphasis on bass, but now it seems like the only thing defining it is that there’s nothing defining it. Do you have any perception of what’s going on in this scene?

Mala: No, I don’t. Obviously I have a perception of what’s going on, and my perception is I don’t really know what’s going on. As much as people will say what they say about myself or about DMZ in regard to our involvement in this particular genre or scene, or however you want to term it, for myself I’ve always been– the reason I don’t like to generalize and label my music and really anybody’s music [is that] it more limits my capacity to think and create, so I’d rather not put that restriction on my own head, and to allow me to still feel free while I’m in the studio regardless if I’m working on something around 140 bpm or whatever. I remember back in 2006 and 2007 people like Ricardo Villalobos would play some of my records, and obviously he’s known for playing one particular type of music and I’m known for making another type of music. He actually played the records at the wrong speed in order for them to fit into what he was doing. So therefore, what does that make that track? And that was something that I always kind of enjoyed because it’s a supposedly a dubstep record being play by a supposedly techno DJ at the wrong tempo in the middle of his set. With genres, whatever they’re called and whatever they want to be defined by makes more sense really.

It seems like dubstep has really embraced that sentiment — the pleasure of cross-pollination. There’s this idea now that music can be at all of these different tempos and can be combined with all of these different types of records.

The one thing that was a huge bonus to what a handful of people were doing back in 2003 and 2004 is that we were very open to sound in general. I guess as long as you had a weighty sub-bass frequency in there, it could kind of go. To me it totally makes sense to see what’s going on. It’s no surprise really what’s going on with the term, that producers that make “dubstep” are now making more techno or house oriented sounds. I think the people who used to come to our events, they were always open minded, and I think that’s why they came down to DMZ in the early days, because it wasn’t something that was mainstream, it wasn’t something that was necessarily familiar and known on a wider-scale. They would trust in what was going on down there. [The younger generation of producers] don’t really care what it’s called or where it’s coming from; they’re just into good music, and I think that’s what we’re really seeing at the moment — a lot of people experimenting. Because everyone’s got the facilities to be able to do it now, everyone can start their own record label and everybody can be a producer because everything’s accessible nowadays, so everybody’s having a go. And obviously, with all things, the strong stuff is always going to shine through, and there’s some really great music made over the last ten years, and it’s not going to stop now.

When you started making music in the late 90s and early 2000s, you were able to be involved in a very localized scene. It was something that happening specifically in south London, and everybody seemed to know each other. In the intervening years, the Internet has just exploded, and I think that’s turned dubstep into such a different animal than it was when you got started. If you’d started making music now instead of ten years ago, do you think everything would have come together in the same way?

I guess time is everything, isn’t it, in a lot of cases in life. I think it’s almost 99 percent sure that things wouldn’t have worked out the same for myself or for maybe the music had it been in this time now. There’s both benefits and [drawbacks] for exploitation of music on the Internet, and I think that’s not just necessarily with our music but with all music. I do think, however, that without people coming together physically in one particular place, whether that be in a record shop or in a venue where people go listen to music, I think it’s very difficult for — I don’t want to say genre or scenes, but I guess that’s really the only way to define it — there’s no way for them to survive. Because there’s so much available on the Internet, everything really gets lost. Once you put a release out, you don’t really know how many people it’s going to, because 100 people will download it, a 1,000 people will download it for free and whatever else goes on, and you don’t really know. But I think when you have a place where people come together and meet, then something kind of builds in a reality. It’s very difficult to explain.

I guess “the cybernetic world” seems to dominate a lot of people’s lives: it’s an alternative reality that people do live in. And not to say that it’s not real because it is very real — if there’s people living in it then it’s certainly real — but that can’t ever give you what you get when you go to a venue or you go to a record shop and buy a record. So I definitely think the movement of this music and the reason why the movement was so strong is because people on a physical level. They connected, and they were connecting on a regular basis in one place, and that built up people’s confidence, it built up people’s energy, it influenced and inspired people to create new sounds and new ideas. We do get inspired by stuff that goes on online, of course we do, because that’s part of our everyday life nowadays. But I think when something is actually in front of you, which you can feel, touch and smell and all the rest of it, I think it definitely builds something different, and I think had that not been the case, then this music certainly wouldn’t be doing what it’s doing now.

Have you encountered music scenes in your travels that remind you of the one that you came out of?

No.

So you haven’t found a scene that feels like it has an energy similar to south London in the early 2000s?

Yeah, okay, I guess so. Not exactly, because you can’t create a south London vibe.

Not necessarily the same kind of music or exactly the same vibe, but I was wondering whether you’ve come across a scene that feels like it has a similar vibrancy.

No, not really. Sometimes it’s difficult maybe for me to even answer that question, because often when I’m traveling, I’m working, so I don’t always get time to check out too much of what’s going on locally. I guess I’m lucky in that respect. I’m not one of those people who plays at all these dubstep parties all around the world. I’m very lucky I play a lot of different, diverse events with different lineups. I don’t even know, man. A thing that seems to have caught on world-wide, and that’s got its own vibe going, [is] that kind of Brainfeeder vibe. They’ve got their own thing going on. I’ve never been to a Brainfeeder event in L.A., but I played with Flying Lotus at one of the events, I heard his album a couple of years ago in London, maybe that’s something that’s similar, I’m not too sure to be honest with you. But I think again, it’s difficult, man, it’s difficult to go out nowadays, because everyone’s so used to doing things on the Internet, you know?

But the Internet doesn’t seem like it’s a big part of what you do: you and your labels don’t have much of an Internet presence, and you’re still playing vinyl and acetate. The physical aspect — you being present playing your tunes, and the medium on which you’re playing your tunes — remains a huge part of your process.

Yeah, I guess so. For me, it’s normal to be that way. It’s where I’ve come from, it’s how I’ve grown up. I enjoy that reality, and it’s something I hope to maintain. I always enjoyed going into a record shop as a youngster and buying records and those things there. I’ve bought music on the Internet for sure, but it’s just a different thing, you know? As much as technology has its great benefits, there’s also a downside to technology, which people often overlook. Even though it’s connecting the world in a funny way, it’s disconnecting people as well.

Maybe one of the funny things the Internet does is allow people to be almost jarringly current with their tastes. Your music, on the other hand, has never really sounded like sub-genre music or fad music. It feels instead like it’s part of some lineage: a continuation of dub culture, of soundsystem culture. Is it getting harder for dubstep to be a continuation of something?

Um, when you say do I think it’s difficult to continue, do you mean it’s difficult for it to be more accessible or more available or more successful on a more widespread level? Because there was a time when we would play our dubplates to fifty people, to a hundred people in a dark room, and we was really happy with doing that because the sound was good, the people there were into the music, and it was a way we were able to express what we were about musically and personally. However, playing dubplates in this day and age is a different thing. I was chatting to a few people about it, and you know, people who play vinyl, we are a dying breed, and that’s no joke. I go to so many shows nowadays where the turntables haven’t been maintained properly because nobody really uses them anymore. People either use CDs or laptops, or they use something like Serato where they’re still going to use turntables, but the way that [you] play from Serato vinyl to a dubplate or a normal vinyl is very different: there’s a different feedback that goes through and a different vibration that happens. There really is a difference between using those formats and using dubplates.

[Now that DJing has gone digital,] it gets more difficult to be able to play my music in a way that isn’t being compromised, and that’s something that’s very challenging [to me], both as a DJ playing my set and also coming from my personal point of view, that I don’t want to play CDs, I don’t want to play off a laptop. I love playing records, I love playing vinyl, but in order for the music I make and the music I play [by other artists] to sound decent all of the time to people who are paying money to come and listen to music, it’s something that I definitely have to think about. I still resist, I’m still one of the only ones cutting dubplates and I still enjoy playing dubplates. It seems a bit of a shame, because I remember when we first starting making this sound, sound systems in clubs weren’t so good, so we’d always be like — I’d speak to Kode9, and he’d tell me about this sound system he played on last week and I’d be going there the week after or whatever, and the same would happen with Skream. We’d kind of build up an understanding of which clubs had certain sound systems, and we would make sure the promoters knew that people weren’t happy with the sound systems, so over the years I’ve actually seen [the trend move from] pretty bad sound systems on average to good sound systems where the music translates. Now it seems we’re in this period again where everything’s going a little bit downhill, because people can get away with it nowadays. But I don’t know, we’ll see where it goes. I’m gonna keep doing my dubplates and vinyl anyway.

On the subject of dubplates and vinyl, your tracks spend a lengthy period — maybe years — as duplates before they’re eventually released to the general public. I’m thinking specifically about your album, Return II Space: a lot of the inclusions were tracks that had been around for quite some time as dubplates. Do you see this “dubplate period” as part of the process, like part of the development of the track? When do you know that it’s time to put it out on vinyl?

I’m not a really a scientific kind of person that analyzes myself or other people too much. I’m not really even a technical person in regards to making music. I’m certainly a person who works more on vibe and more on feel, and that’s the way that I select really from my music as well. I actually find selling music a little bit uncomfortable. That’s one of the reasons I don’t really release a lot of records. Also, I guess the main reason is that thing of where, I remember going out as a youngster and listening to people like Grooverider, and you’d hear Grooverider one month and he’d just play a ridiculous set, and you’d have these tracks rattling around in your mind and you didn’t know who they were by, what they were called or when you would hear them again. You could only hear them again a month later somewhere else, and you still didn’t know what the track was, you’re not going to [know] unless you’re one of those avid record collectors. I collect records, but I certainly couldn’t tell you the name and the studio and what year it was made of every record that I bought. Again, I’m not really into those details so much.

So for me, when it comes to making music and playing music — again, the whole soundsystem/dubplate culture of having exclusives and having dubplates that nobody else has got — it’s just part of that continuing. Just because somebody makes a piece of music that people enjoy, in my mind, doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to sell it. Sometimes things are better left in people’s memories. They have a life just still the same in that way, just as I still remember hearing tracks or certain mixes that DJs done when I was a teenager, and I don’t own [those] records, and I don’t know if they’re even available. But they’re still as special to me now, even more special than they were had I been able to buy them, or had I known what they were. So again, it’s not really something that’s thought out or something that I’ve planned; it’s just really been my upbringing. How I’ve seen and done things as a youngster is really the reason why I enjoy playing music, live sets. I don’t even enjoy my sets being recorded and uploaded. I think it’s important that people come together and experience stuff that’s happening in the moment rather than everything being documented and photographed and recorded for a later date. I like things that pass in the moment. They’re often the most special things in your memory.

Who would you imagine is rattling around in your subconscious? When you were a kid or a teenager, what were you listening to?

People like Tricky. Obviously, I grew up listening to jungle, so other guys from Kenny Ken to Randall to Grooverider, Fabio, Mickey Finn, Blackmarket. I went to Metalheadz as a youngster and we used to go to a lot of the sessions there so I was really inspired by what the Metalheadz lot was doing back then, you know DJs like Peshay, Doc Scott, Dillinger. It was that hardcore mentality, of where there was nothing else like it going on in the world, it was underground, it was a soundsystem thing. I listened to a lot of that growing up. I listened to a lot of deep house, people like Theo Parrish. I also listened to people like Talvin Singh, who made some nice music… I remember being really inspired by that.

Augustus Pablo was a massive influence to me making music when I was younger just because I felt so much freedom in his tracks. It never felt rigid or bland, or really arranged in terms of how people arrange today where you can actually count the bars in what they’re going to do. I really enjoy that in Augustus Pablo’s music, and he’s probably one of the most influential I think in terms of just feeling really free to be able to create melodies that were kind of abstract. It didn’t really matter whether they started on the first beat of the bar or whatever. I used to listen to a lot of hip-hop growing up as well, definitely a lot of UK hip-hop. Early stuff I used to listen to, the early Wu Tang stuff and Mobb Deep and Mos Def, The Roots, Talib Kweli, the UK hip-hop people like Jest, Kalashnikov, Lewis Parker. I listen to a lot of music, man, just probably like yourself and everybody else out there. I was into so many things, I blatantly was a junglist and if I was into any kind of scene I was into the jungle movement. But other than that, I didn’t really consider myself part of any scene, really. I just liked music that seemed like it came from an honest place.

Are you still listening to a lot of the same music in your downtime, or has it changed? Is there anyone now that you find particularly inspiring?

I think it changes all the time music, you know, because some people are not necessarily making music anymore or their frequency changed so you don’t really feel it or connect with in the same way. But yeah, I still listen to a lot of roots music, if it’s more like old stuff, people like Bob Marley and Burning Spear. Those type of things, they never really get old even though they’re old tracks. A lot of the music that’s coming out of Jamaica is more like dancehall nowadays, and I’m not really too into that sound. I think the technology has stopped people being able to make that classic roots reggae sound, but yeah, I still listen to a lot of people like Jah Shaka, I love that and always have done. So there’s definitely foundation sounds that I’ve always listened to and I imagine that I always will listen to. But like, you know, there’s so much music getting made nowadays, and it’s so accessible, and I listen to so much music all the time. So it’s hard to really label or give you a list of people that I’m really into, because I really am into a lot of stuff at the moment. But some of what’s been really close, what’s really been inspiring me, are some guys that I signed to my Deep Medi label called Old Apparatus. They send me a lot of music, and it’s just very interesting to listen to, so they’re really inspiring. They’re a pleasure to listen to, and it’s a pleasure to work with them as well at the moment, so they’re definitely worth checking out.

I wanted to talk about Deep Medi, because you were saying that you sort of feel uncomfortable putting out your own music, or selling your own music, but you really like pushing the music of other people, right?

Yeah, for sure.

So what’s next for Deep Medi? My perception has been, and I hate the word “eclectic,” but whatever definition one might have for the sound of Deep Medi seems to be growing: the tempos have been changing, the sounds are getting more diverse.

Yeah, I guess much more of that, you know. I say to the artists, it’s their label, it’s not so much my label. I always make sure that everybody feels that they can be comfortable to experiment. It’s certainly not a label specifically catering for one genre, even though most of the music that’s been released on the label is played by people who are into dubstep music. So yeah, [the label’s sound is] open [for] people to experiment on as much as they like. I think this year we’re going to see some really interesting creations from some people who you might not expect to be doing something on that kind of vibe, you know? I’m seeing it happen within the label already, so it’d be nice to be able to share with people further down the line.

You’re known for your music that hovers around 140 bpm, though I understand that you produce at all sorts of tempos. I’ve actually only seen you play once. It was in New York when you played with Skream at Dub War—

Oh, was that recently, the last time I think.

—so I’m no authority on what happens in your sets night after night. But do these different tempos ever work their way into your sets?

No, not really, because when I play my set I like to play a certain sound and certain style so that’s why I play the way that I play, which doesn’t mean I don’t listen to and don’t enjoy other tempos and other styles of music. It’s kind of a common perception that people have, especially when I get given music. They always say to me, “I’ve given you all my dubby stuff,” because they think I [only] love that music. Being defined by a scene and a genre, it does these things where it can limit people’s perception of you. Maybe I will produce stuff at other tempos, [but] I don’t think I’ll be playing sets where I start off at 120 and I work my way up to 140, that’s not really my vibe. I was supposed to do a set last year where I was supposed to play a mixed tempo set but I lost my dubs on the train on the way to the UK and ended up not being able to do it. I don’t know whether that was a good or a bad thing, it never happened in the end.

I still think there’s a lot to experiment with, with 140, with that tempo. I think it’s very open as a tempo, there’s a huge amount of possibility, and I just think that unfortunately sometimes people get a little lazy and they just stick with things that they know that work and so you end up with inevitably being inundated and saturated with a lot of stuff that sounds pretty similar, pretty similar groove and pretty similar frequency. Which is a shame, because I think the 140 tempo is so open, and you just gotta dig a little bit deeper inside the groove, you know what I mean?

So a lot of the guys that emerged from your scene, people like Loefah and Coki, people like Skream, people like Kode9 — you guys have all gotten so much bigger since all this started. Do you guys still get together? Does the scene still feel close-knit?

I wish everyone was able to get together like back in 2003, but you know, circumstances change. Generally once or twice a year, most people meet up, and it’s generally at the DMZ dance floor bashes. We’ve got our sixth birthday event in March, and most people usually play, and everybody makes a real effort to come out and connect there. It’s just physically not possible to connect the same way, just because circumstances are so different now for everybody. But I think the love is still there, and people understand and accept that everybody’s busy and everybody’s really doing their thing. You know, [if we went] back to 2003 and discussed then what’s happening now, everybody would have been like, “Yeah, whatever.” No one would have really believed that things have happened the way they have, you know? Like I said earlier, I do think that unity amongst people on a regular basis was one of the reasons why people are doing what they’re doing now. It’s something that I don’t forget and something that I’ll always remember very fondly for the rest of my life, you know?

The DMZ parties are still going strong?

Yeah, six a year. It haven’t changed. We do them on the same dates at the same venue, every year.

Is it still more or less the same vibe?

I think the vibe kind of changes, but it always feels like a DMZ vibe. I can’t really describe what it is, but it’s got it’s own vibe. When we play down there, it generates certain frequencies that I don’t see anywhere else in the world when I play. You know, maybe you have to ask other people who come to DMZ on a more regular basis for their opinion, because I’m sure there’s a lot of different opinions. There’s a lot of people who used to come all the time and don’t come anymore for whatever reason, and there’s people that didn’t come years ago who come now. It’s always changing; it’s not static. The movement’s still happening, but yeah, it still feels like back in 2003 for me, it’s just that DMZ vibe, man.

Where are your travels taking you next?

Me and Coki have a Digital Mystikz tour in New Zealand and Australia in March. I go to Cuba in April, Japan in June, and in between all that is a lot of shows in Europe. I’m coming to the States to play at Bob Marley Fest in Miami in March, which I’m looking forward to. I’ll probably be visiting the States to do a tour in September or something, towards autumn or winter time because I don’t have any time before then now when I’d be able to fit that in. But yeah, generally it’s just on the road every week, you go to a few different places and push out that frequency, push out the good energy and try and connect with people and try and expand the minds, even if it’s just for a moment.

You recently played a show with the Moritz von Oswald Trio…

I did a remix for Moritz von Oswald last year, which was one of those things where I never would have dreamed of being able to hook up with some people who have been massively influential to me. And it’s just such a blessing when you meet people [who have been huge influences], and they’re just such decent human beings. I’ve met [in my adult life] a couple of the people I really looked up to as a youngster, and they turn out to be a little bit different from what you imagined, so yeah, Moritz is a really lovely person, and you know, just makes his music nicer to listen to. I went on a big hunt years ago, probably early 2000, to find all the Rhythm & Sound records, and I found loads of them and they’ve been massively influential, just their vibration and having a unique sound. A lot of people sometimes forget it’s easy to recreate something. We can all recreate, we all do recreate, but having your own spin on it is what puts it in the mix [as a distinct entity].

When did you and Moritz von Oswald first meet?

I was doing a lecture for Red Bull in Barcelona in 2008, and Moritz was also doing a lecture there, which was one of the first and only interviews for a very very long time. Tikiman was there as well, and I actually spoke to Tikiman before. In the evening, Moritz and Tikiman were playing in this really nice outside area in Barcelona. I remember one of the Red Bull guys said, “Moritz really would like to meet you,” so we got introduced and we just started talking and we spoke about many different things on the level, and we’ve always kept in touch since then. He’s got a really good energy, man, so it’s a pleasure to be in touch with him, you know?

You recently remixed the Moritz von Oswald Trio track “Restructure 2.” How did that come about?

I just got an email from Moritz one day saying, ‘I really would love for you to rebuild my next release, do you think you can do it?’ So I was just like, ‘Ahhhhhhh, Moritz has asked me to do a remix!’ Again, this was one of those things you never expect to happen. It was a very daunting prospect, because my perception of what he does was unbelievably high, so I felt like I really had to make something that’s going to stand up. When I finished it, I sent it to Moritz, and I wasn’t too sure about it. But he was very kind about what he said about it, and it ended up being released, so I was very pleased about that.

I forgot that the remix had been listed as a “rebuild.” This reminds me of something I’ve been curious about for a long time. On the labels of your DMZ releases, you list the tracks as “build by Mala” instead of “produced by Mala” or “written by Mala.” Does “build” feel like a better verb for what you do in the studio than any of the more codified terms?

I don’t know, really. I don’t really think about it too much. I remember when we first started releasing records, we were thinking about the artwork on the label, and we wanted to keep it minimal and we wanted to represent ourselves honestly. That was a problem that I always had with not wanting to sign to any record labels or anything like that. I always felt like people wouldn’t really get it, and they’d misrepresent it, and they’d try and group it up with x, y, z, which is not what we wanted. We wanted to represent ourselves to show what were about honestly and openly. So even with the artwork, we didn’t want some professional bullshit on there like “Copyright by…” or whatever they have on the records nowadays… “you can’t reproduce or play in a public place” or the other stuff they have on a lot of records. The artwork and the record was supposed to be personal, and when we would talk to each other it’d be like, ‘Oh yeah, I just this built this track,’ that’s how we would talk. When we come to put it on the artwork, it was like “Built by Mala,” “Built by Coki,” you know what I mean? That’s just how we talk to each other. With the Moritz record, it’s “rebuild.” They asked me to “rebuild,” because the track was called “Structure 2,” and so I guess it’s maybe along those lines.

And you don’t do many remixes. Does that feel like a different process from producing, or do you get the material and just kind of vibe on it?

Yeah, they send over what they want to send and you vibe with it. Sometimes it’s really difficult. I’ve just done some remixes for Lee “Scratch” Perry which took me ages to do, but I finally managed to finish two of them, which will come out a little bit later this year. But yeah, for me, like I said, I’m not really technical or over-analytical about what I do in the studio, so often I forget things that I’ve done over the years. I just kind of go in the studio and just vibe, and I’ve always just done that. I don’t really sit down and have a plan of how I’m going to approach anything, either fortunately or unfortunately. I’m sure I’d finish a lot more tracks if I had some sort of disciplined approach to my creative flow, but, nah, just let it flow anyhow.

Well whatever you’re doing is working, despite having a schedule that’s as full as anyone’s. Is it hard to find time to keep making music?

That changes, you know? Being on the road affects [my work] in the studio, but you just have to find the balance with all things, you know? You have to balance your family and friends with work in the studio and doing your paperwork and stuff. Life’s a juggling act to some extent. Unless you’ve actually lived it for a couple of years it’s very difficult to try and describe what it actually is like. But yeah, I wouldn’t change it for anything. I thoroughly enjoy being able to go an play music all over [the world]. Again, had you said to all of us back in 2003, come 2007, or come 2011, you would have been to — I think I’ve been to about 65 or 70 countries to play music. So you know, had you said that to me back in 2003 I would have said, “Yeah, whatever.”

I might normally ask if people could expect new releases from you soon, but perhaps the better question is: should people look out for new Mala tracks in the shops as well as listen for new Mala tracks in your sets?

Yeah, definitely new music in my set. I always try and keep new music in my set, whether it’s my own music, incorporating music from my artists on my label or people who send me stuff that I’m feeling. So yeah, definitely, I got a lot of new stuff, I got some dubplates today actually for my set this weekend, which I’m looking forward to. Usually January to March is when I take time off, but this year I’m going back a bit earlier to February, so I’m looking forward to playing a lot of new [material]. So yeah, man, definitely, new stuff. I feel I wanted to spend less time doing shows this last year, which I did, and also this year I’m not taking on as many shows because I want to be in the studio more, so that’s definitely happening. Yeah, man, just keep trying to be creative and keep trying to interest myself with new sounds and new vibrations.