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Words by Dominique Nzeyimana | Assistant: Immi AbrahamA big dream of mine is to be part of a frequent council that feels like a mix of stand-ups hanging out in bars after a late-night show and AA (for the mandatory sharing).We don’t all have to be best friends, but there’s big mutual respect. Every so-often, we’d congregate, and talk about what’s been on our minds; admit when we’ve been assholes , and celebrate each other’s wins. We’d also express love, exchange information and contacts, name figures, amounts, pitfalls, percentages, and laugh loud.. The small talk, while everyone’s trickling in, is “what did you eat today?”, “where do you get your jackets altered”, “how have you been sleeping?” and “which records have you been listening to?”. All before we also dive into building secure spaces, art shows, entertainment, alternate education, and specific care. Before we head out, “Does anybody need anything else?” has definitely been asked. Black bonding, but no one’s excluded except bigots. A couple of times a year, we would release a double vinyl carrying the best excerpts of what was said.For Patta Volume One, I feel like jotting down the most direct outline of my conversation with two people who have been instrumental to my growth these past years. So let me introduce Steve McQueen and Guillaume Schmidt, who, both in their own brilliant ways with their art and their deep thinking and conscientious execution, have been forging brand-new connections and possibilities in my brain and reality. Gifts beyond measure. If you haven’t had the pleasure, I am sure they will do the same for you, and this talk is a start.  Beyond an unafraid chronicler of our collective and ancestral history, globally acclaimed British-Caribbean director-filmmaker, artist, producer, and screenwriter Sir Steve McQueen CBE possesses the uncanny ability to discern, unlock and carefully release emotion from his audience. The agony and ecstasy of Black existence reflected — often for the very first time — back at you, not like a cold mirror but like a heart-to-heart with someone who deeply understands and cares. In a career spanning 30 years, as the first Black filmmaker to ever win an Academy Award for Best Picture, McQueen has today moved far beyond institutional praise–though it has come thick and plenty in the shape of an Oscar, BAFTA, Golden Globe, NAACP Image Award, Turner Prize, a knighthood, Cannes Caméra d’Or, BFI Fellowship, and many more.Steve grew up in Ealing, west London, in a Grenadian-Trinidadian household. Despite educators misreading his many talents, Steve pushed forth, self-sure and tenacious, to study art at the Chelsea College of Art and Design in London and at Goldsmiths College, where film became his preferred medium. A later stint at the Tisch School of the Arts at NYU defogged a path to further creation through photography, sculptures and installations, and, naturally, film. His early work in the ‘90s ranged from transgressive shorts in black-and-white (Bear) to a Super 8 film (Exodus), which eventually landed him the Turner Prize in 1999. In 2007, McQueen made waves by unveiling an artwork honoring fallen British soldiers on stamps–daring the Royal Mail to take a stand. This thought-provoking work proved fertile ground for his feature-length films, the first two starring Michael Fassbender: Hunger (2008), on the last days of Irish nationalist Bobby Sands and Shame (2011), a sinewy story on sex addiction. Next, McQueen moved mountains to get his culture-shifting film 12 Years a Slave released. The unflinching story of enslaved free man Solomon Northup cleared the 2014 award season, receiving a Golden Globe and Academy Award for Best Picture. The following feature Widows (2018) was widely acclaimed for deepening the heist genre. In 2019, Steve created Soundtrack of America, a tour de force concert series feting the history and influence of African American music. In 2019 and 2020, both Tate and Tate Modern showed Year 3 and the major exhibition Steve McQueen spanning 20 years of McQueen’s work. More recently, McQueen co-wrote and directed the deeply influential anthology film series Small Axe (2020), centering the West Indian Windrush community in London through visceral vignettes. For this series, he collaborated with Patta on a limited 2021 Small Axe T-shirt and knitted jumper and produced the feted Patta x Nike ‘The Wave’ short film series with his production house Lammas Park. In 2022, McQueen’s Uprising documentary won the BAFTA for Factual Series. The list of incredible achievements goes on. For all his commercial and critical success, true iconoclast Steve McQueen has achieved one of the rarest feats in artistic life. He has arrived at that plane of visionary achievement that stands beyond critique and the white, Western gaze, creating a vault of timeless heirlooms and capsules of Culture.Guillaume Schmidt, known as ‘Gee’ to many and as ‘Gui’ to Steve, is the co-founder of Patta. Along with his business partner and best friend Edson Sabajo, he turned what was once a small sneaker shop and streetwear brand into an ever-evolving magnum opus, shifting culture and community as we know it. When Schmidt and Sabajo — who met working at record store Fat Beats Amsterdam — opened the doors of the first Patta store in 2004, energies aligned for the most successful Lowlands community brand ever to take root and bear fruit. Trial, error, and woes turned into wins, which organically grew Patta’s halo until it spanned an Amsterdam flagship and sought-after clothing line, a huge international fandom, London and Milan brick-and-mortars, a charitable foundation, an entrepreneurship Academy and summer school, a record label, a running team and much more. As an internationally respected creative, industry, and community leader, Schmidt has worked with just about every major name in the fashion industry; from Nike to Levi's, Converse, Puma, Tommy Hilfiger, Reebok, New Balance, Vans, Napapijri, Asics, Fila, Alpha Industries, Timex and many others. With Patta, Gee has had an unmistakable impact on how streetwear and hip-hop culture evolved from an underground phenomenon to a globally dominant culture. Crucially, Team Patta has transcended the success of their products and collabs by putting community, intersectionality, and culture above profit. It’s a level of care that shows in any interaction you could have with Gee, whether it’s face-to-face or through wearing Patta: he makes you feel seen, uplifted, and respected.By dragging banks and billion-dollar brands alike into their ‘pull up and give back’ philosophy, Gee, Edson, and the team have not only made sure we looked great in their sought-after collections for nearly two decades, but they are also doing more than their part in the imperative re-imagining of how we can be more of our authentic selves and break free from institutional and internalized restrictions. DOMINIQUE NZEYIMANA: “Thank you both for being here. I’m extremely nervous. My daughter and I went to see The Cure in concert a couple of days ago and we went to dinner first, and she asked me: ‘Mom, why are you so nervous? You talk about both of their work all of the time!’ And I said: ‘Yes, but not to their faces!’ “So, I’m honored. Gee, of course, you know I love you so much and I love everything you and Patta do, thank you so much for asking me to take this on. Steve, your work over the past couple of years, I don’t think anything has touched and inspired me more. I was on holiday this summer and I read your book on the beach and I had the best time, just sitting in the sun, exploring your work even further. “I would love to go back a little bit with this first question. Who, in your recollection, was the first person to instill confidence in you?”STEVE MCQUEEN: “Well, other than my parents, it was Simon Foxton. For people who don’t know him, he was one of the original stylists, along with Ray Petri, before the word ‘stylist’ was ever known. It was amazing meeting him. I was in Camden, with my friend, Danny, and we thought: ‘let’s sell food at the market here. You could sell second-hand clothes and food at Camden Market.’ “This was before vintage was called ‘vintage’; it was just second-hand. So, Danny and I were selling some stuff, and a guy came up to me with a phone number and said: ‘I’m Simon Foxton’s assistant, are you interested in doing some modeling?’ I said: ‘Huh? What’s that about?’ I didn’t know who he was, but Danny said: ‘Simon Foxton worked with Nick Knight, oh my god, you’ve got to do it, you’ve got to do it.’ I rang the number and, strangely enough, the first three digits were very similar to my three digits. Meaning that he lived in my neighborhood. Turned out Simon lived only 15 minutes from my house. 15 minutes. So, that was such a beautiful coincidence. “Anyway, I got to know him, we did a shoot, and that’s how I met Edward Enninful because Simon had spotted him too. That’s how our worlds collided. Simon is just beautiful, and was extremely helpful in giving me confidence. You know, in the house I grew up in, the only real book was the Bible. Going to Simon’s place, it just offered me situational possibilities. He was that person, and I used to go to his house every Friday. We used to watch TV and have a nice time just talking about things. He was just a wonderful person who gave me a lot of ideas. Just talking about inspiration. Not necessarily having the answer to anything but allowing conversations to develop. Still, to this day, he’s my best friend.” GUILLAUME SCHMIDT: “Was he also connected to Judy Blame?”SM: “He knew Judy, yes. We used to all hang out together. It’s London; everyone knows each other. Strange, but true.”DN: “I just read Edward Enninful’s memoir and I marveled at how closely connected you all were. When I first got the question if I wanted to sit in for this conversation, I told Lee Stuart that I was reading A Visible Man and that I was highlighting some pieces where your name came up, and that was even before I knew that I was going to be here today. And the parts where Judy Blame came up as well. Because, obviously, when Neneh Cherry came onto our screens in the late 80s, she made such an impact on me and I went out of my way to find out where she got her clothes from, and that’s how I also found out about Buffalo and Judy Blame. So now, to read in Edward’s book you were all within each other’s orbit, it’s amazing. Gee, I’m first going to ask you that question as well, who was that first person to instill confidence in you?”GS: “Definitely my dad. Both my parents are very inspiring to me, but my dad was the one to emphasize knowing yourself and being proud. My neighborhood was pretty mixed where I grew up, but then I went to do Atheneum which was pretty white. I was a rare sight at my school and things happened that sound strange now, like the touching of hair, very familiar. So, my dad was very protective in that sense of me not trying to be someone else but being proud of who I was and where I’m coming from. He is my inspiration. And then, of course, coming of age: Edson. To this day, our partnership blended into our friendship is something special. Since the early days of our company, he would take on the financial tasks so I could take on more of the creative–although he has talents in that arena himself. He knew the importance of us getting our business in order and sacrificed himself for me, although he would never put it like that. He also did that in a way that he was always the type of financial man–like: ‘Yo, if you think it’s a good idea, let’s fuckin’ do it.’ We failed, and we won sometimes, but even when we failed ten times, he was still supportive and always about confidence. Always: ‘Listen, if you think that is what we should be doing, I trust you, so let’s just go.’”DN: “In conversations we’ve had, this has come up, and you’ve used the word ‘sacrifice’ before regarding Edson wearing the finance hat. Do you feel guilty about this early allocation of tasks?”GS: “Hmmm, no, I don’t feel guilty. I think I have put my money where my mouth is. We’re not sitting here, having this conversation for no reason. But sometimes, it’s also good to acknowledge it. We could’ve both wanted to do creative stuff. I would say ‘the fun stuff’. I just think it’s very good for him to know that I know. I don’t feel guilty because I’m very good at the creative part. And whenever he asks, when deliberation is needed, I'm there from a financial point of view. But I mean that sometimes you have to see it, say it, and be aware of it.”SM: “I imagine Edson also acknowledged that you were better at one thing and he was better at the other thing. I think the acknowledgment, understanding, and appreciation of each other’s positions makes for a good partnership.”DN: “We’ll come back to the materializing of the work and some collaborations, but the second part of my first question is: what was the first place or space where you felt truly at home?”SM: “Amsterdam, to be honest with you. It’s kind of weird to say that. I always make a house a home anywhere I live. I never had a studio for work. The studio is in my head, and it used to be that my home was in my head. When I got to Amsterdam, I didn’t know anyone, and everything was unfamiliar. So therefore, I had space for myself. When I’m in London, I’m always on. There’s a certain kind of code of conduct, a thing that goes on subconsciously, and it’s exhausting sometimes. You don’t even know you’re doing it because it’s just how it is. So, when I got to Amsterdam, I discovered: ‘Oh, there’s another way of living; there’s another way of seeing.’ I had more time for myself; I had more time to reflect. And that was interesting. Plus, I’m a homebody. I love being at home.” DN: “How did you make your house a home? Without being too intrusive, is it through art that’s on your walls, special furniture? What is it?”SM: “I’m surrounded by a lot of books. Books are my thing. I just love being here with my kids and my wife. They’re not always home, but I love it when they are. I don’t have any art on my walls. When I was at art school, all my walls were white. Because if I had anything on the wall, it sort of infects thoughts. What else is home for me? It sounds funny, but I like to be warm. (laughs) I like to clean. I moved my vacuum cleaner, my Dyson, off-screen a second ago. It’s like nesting. When I come back from a shoot, I often annoy my wife because I end up cleaning. She will ask: ‘It’s not clean? What’s the matter with you?’ But it’s not that. I’m just making the nest again.”GS: “When I think about Steve’s home, I think about birthdays. As you know, I met Steve through our kids, his son and my son; they were in the same class. We were two dads on the playground, giving each other the nod. And the nodding became a cup of coffee, and the cup of coffee became ‘hey, come to my son’s birthday’, or ‘come to my birthday’. And just, from the gate, before really knowing him, I got to know his mom, his sister, his cousin, and I just had such an amazing time. It really felt like a home from the moment I set foot inside. That’s a special thing. And, also segueing into what he’s saying about Amsterdam… Originally, I came from a smaller city in the Netherlands and riding the train to Amsterdam in the late ‘90s felt like arriving at a big playing field. It was just such a brilliant city for me to come of age. I really loved the place from the get-go. And I still feel that way. It was also very much of a safe space for me. “Can I say a little thing about Steve’s hometown of London? That’s a city I fell in and out of love with. Sometimes, I really loved it, and sometimes, I really hated it, mostly depending on what I was doing there. It’s huge, which makes getting from place to place such a thing. I really had to get used to it, but I must say London (Notting Hill) Carnival, going there these past couple of years, totally opened my eyes. I’m so in love with that place now.  I’m still buzzing from the energy I got there last summer..”DN: “Is that a feeling you can get in Amsterdam as well? Or is that really specific to London?”GS: “I’ve never been to Rio, or to any of those types of carnivals and celebrations. I’ve been to America, I went to Puerto Rican day parades, summer festivals, and all that type of stuff. Obviously, we have Keti Koti and Kwaku Summer Festival, but to be honest, I have never experienced something similar to the London Carnival in 2022. I’ve been there before. Maybe it was the space I was at in my head and what I had going on and all the COVID, Black Lives Matter, and all of these things that also very much occupied my head… But it was so much more apparent for me now; it really clicked. There are these conversations about why it’s still going on and sometimes people forget about the reason it was there in the first place. I think it’s so needed, and it felt so good.” DN: “Steve, London is your hometown; you grew up with this festival. And you’ve probably been to Keti Koti as well? GS: (nods) “Yes, he has.”DN: “Can you grasp the difference?”SM: “In London, Carnival is unabashed, and the style is ‘come as you are’. Also, there are older people, my parents’ generation who follow their steel band. Then there’s the mid-generation going for reggae, maybe, and the younger generation for grime or whatever it is they’re into. You have all these different generations who go there and enjoy themselves unabashedly. It’s a real process. It’s a street party, don’t forget it’s a street party. Meaning that there’s a situation; it’s a vibe. People get a sense of authority, a kind of brazenness, that they own the city. Unlike a party that’s enclosed, London carnival is a roaming situation. This is ours. We own the streets. “And very important to remember we missed the 50th anniversary because of COVID. So, when people came out this year, they came out and wanted to be seen. As Gee has said, a lot has happened in that time. George Floyd’s murder and Grenfell, five years prior. People wanted to be seen and heard. There’s just a celebration. My friend said to me: they’ve got every Saturday with their football, we’ve got two days in the year, let’s go for it. It’s about being celebratory, about owning it, about being sexual, having fun. It’s about being unabashedly you. Extraordinary.”DN: “I was wondering Gee, in the beginning of you two knowing each other, did you talk to Steve about his work?”GS: “At first our relationship was purely getting to know each other, really. A cup of coffee and some small talk. Over time, you also start talking about what interests you. If you like someone and know that they created work that you love…” SM: “Can I jump in here? I had no idea who this guy was. This tall, dark-skinned, handsome Black guy is waiting for his child. I gave him a nod, here and there, and that was it. Obviously, our sons hung out, so then, they brought their parents in, and we got to meet. So, up until a long time, I didn’t know what Gee did. I didn’t even know what Patta was. I saw it around, and then: ‘That’s you, Patta? Oh, okay.’ We got into a conversation, all very organic. I wasn’t looking for him; he wasn’t looking for me; we just found each other. That is the beautiful thing about our relationship, really.” GS: “I cherish the way that we bonded. To Steve’s point, it was very organic and very much about us and the relationship. Then we started talking a lot when Trump won the election. The day before it was final, we were talking to each other saying: ‘This is not even possible, man! The world will be upside down if Trump becomes president.’ And then, next thing, you come to school and Steve just looks at me like (makes dramatic side-eye) ‘What a nightmare.’ Crazy.”SM: “I will never forget waking up in the middle of the night. I was so selfish, I thought: ‘Whyyy? Why me?  Why do I have to live through this?’”(Everyone laughs)SM: “It wasn’t even about my wife or my children. Just why me?” (laughs)GS: “And you weren’t even living in the U.S.!”DN: “So, Gee, Small Axe came out. Did you immediately think: ‘We have to do something together?’ Or how did that happen?”GS: “Again, very organically. I was incredibly compelled that he was doing something so democratically available. For a theatrical release, you have to go to a cinema. You have to pay for the ticket. You have to make an effort. But the fact that he wanted it to be on national television, the BBC, and that it becomes so democratic and that it actually can be watched by an entire nation so to speak, I found that amazing. “I watched Lovers Rock again with a friend last Friday, because I have a really nice sound system in my house. And she said exactly what the movie and Steve’s idea was about: ‘I’ve never seen this. I have no recollection of mostly or all Black people being captured on film in this manner.’ There are all these references of white people partying and having a good time. There are a gazillion references for that. However, even what was captured for Lovers Rock and all these other little-known stories, he wanted them to be accessible to as many people as possible. “That thought process and those stories are so important. And I just thought that it was imperative for us, and for Patta as a brand, to support in any way we could. We want our DNA and the people that follow us to know that this history exists and that they need to spread the word. I would say that it is a secondary mission for me to let as many people know about Small Axe as I possibly can.” DN: “I think, on my podcast, it’s the most recommended piece of work, I yell it at everybody. ‘Have you seen this? Have you not seen this?’ waving my box set at them. (laughs) As soon as someone talks about music or loving movies, it’s top of mind. Always. From the moment I saw it. And, for me, out of all the films, they all touched me, but the two that touched me the most were Lovers Rock, obviously, because of all the details–the getting ready with friends, the love story, the music, the nuanced characters, the style, the dancing, the drama, and suspense. The first time I watched it–of course, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop because that’s kind of what we learned as Black people seeing ourselves on screen if it goes too well for a long time, you think: when is something really bad going to happen or when is someone going to get killed? And in the end, there’s an interaction where someone tries to put the protagonist in his so-called place. And then, I watched Education—I followed the chronology Steve set up for the BBC—and when the credits started rolling, I just sat there and really bawled my eyes out. Just like Gee, I went to a super-white Catholic school until I was fourteen and I was the only Black girl the entire time. My headmaster was a nun that entire time, plus I had a nun for a teacher for a whole year. Watching Education, it was the first time that so many things that I felt were acknowledged. I knew it all happened, but this was the first time I saw it emphasized on screen. That shifted and lifted something inside me. So, thank you so much for that, Steve! Can you talk about what making Small Axe did for you?”SM: “My pleasure! I made four movies before I did Small Axe – Hunger, Shame, 12 Years a Slave, and Widows. Many people asked why I didn’t make it in the beginning, and honestly, I didn’t have the life experience. I wasn’t ready yet. And it’s only because of getting older, I can look back at what that timeframe was, what that time was about. Particularly Education was based a little bit—obviously not exactly—on my education. It’s so interesting all three of us talking about our education, it’s very noticeable how it was traumatic for all three of us in one shape or another. For a long time, I didn’t want to reflect on that. “The only reason I’m here talking to you is because of Black people and what they did to reverse the system. Because, if anyone hasn’t seen the film, there’s a situation where a lot of Black children are being put in this section, and they call it ‘Educationally Subnormal’. If you were deemed ‘educationally subnormal’, you got put in a special school. And that would have happened to me, if it wasn’t for those Black parents and the Saturday schools formed in the UK through them. “Black parents fighting the school system to say: ‘this is not right.’ And it’s very important that we, as Black people, govern ourselves to change and reverse the law so children can fulfill their potential. Because, if that hadn’t happened, I would’ve been in a ‘subnormal’ school, no doubt.”DN: “Did making Education resolve anything for you?”SM: “It was part of the process. For a lot of people, the damage that is done in your early education can be like a ball and chain. The self-doubt and lack of belief in oneself can linger. I was very lucky, similar to Gee, with my parents and the people around me. And also, I was cocky. I thought I was the best. Even if people thought I wasn’t, I thought I was the best. Absolutely.”DN “Me too. You have to.”SM: “But I really believed it. (laughs) In some ways, you’re quite right, you have to. But to be in the situation to have done what I’ve done, and to have had teachers and other adults telling me I was stupid. I just knew I wasn’t. I really knew. It wasn’t a case of false faith; it was a case of: I know I have the capability of doing this. That came from my parents, for sure, no doubt about that.”DN: “Do you have a reaction to that, Gee? How was watching Education for you?”GS: “It manifested a lot of things that should be very common for me but are uncommon. In every movie, I saw similarities, but what stayed with me the most was that I had never actually seen it as much on-screen. And I’m a movie buff, I watch a lot. But overall, I loved all the movies, for the resilience and people not taking what they were being served. Whether it’s the buff guy in Lovers Rock that comes outside to protect this girl that’s going into a dangerous situation, or it’s the parents and the Black women standing up for a kid. Watching these films, I learned a lot and I have a really special place in my heart for them.”DN: “Same here. Steve, you have been rightfully so bestowed with countless awards, accolades, and prizes. I was thinking about Kara Walker, she got the MacArthur Genius Grant and she later said in an interview: ‘I didn’t use it enough as a shield’. That struck me. Is there one out of all of your prizes, titles or awards that means the most to you in the sense that it lets you do things, it gives you more freedom?” SM: “Well, you know the fact that I won the Oscar for ‘Best Picture’ and I was the first Black director and first Black producer ever to do that–that means a lot. But at the same time, it’s as Miles Davis said: ‘So what?’ Because, honestly, I do not want to be judged by white people. And most people who judge these things are white. So, yes, it did allow me some access and as far as history is concerned, in movies, that is undoubtedly very significant. But, at the same time, so what? It’s about the work. It’s about what you produce. Who is this person saying it’s good or it’s bad? It’s the same person at school, telling me: ‘Steve McQueen, you’re good or you’re bad’. I must judge myself, on myself. And your peers, the people you respect and the people you hold up high. Those are the people I’m most interested in having conversations about what they think, rather than anyone else. “I remember while making 12 Years A Slave, someone close to my camp kept talking about ‘your impossible movie’. They said to me: ‘Movies with Black leads don’t travel abroad, don’t make any money abroad, they fail. Black movies don’t do anything but a little domestic box office in America, nothing crazy.’ Of course, 12 Years A Slave changed that completely. In the first two weeks, they only put it out in a hundred or even less cinemas. And people were knocking on the door asking: ‘Where is 12 Years A Slave?’ So, then they released it to 2,500 cinemas. We lost over 20 million in our first two weeks because they didn’t believe it would do well. In its first week of DVD sales in America, it sold over a million copies. In its first week. I only just found this out.”  GS: “Over a million DVD’s in this day and age.”SM: “This is when people used to buy DVDs for $20. I never saw any of that money, by the way. People were saying: ‘White people will be too afraid to go to the cinemas to see 12 Years A Slave. And then in one week, we sold 1 million DVDs.”DN: “What do you do with that information, because you don’t seem angry or frustrated at all?”SM: “Sometimes you just have to break the mold. I know for a fact that without 12 Years A Slave; Moonlight, and Selma wouldn’t’ve been made. I know this because the same producers couldn’t get it made. After 12 Years A Slave, they did. Now the thinking became: ‘Black movies make money? Okay, let’s get this out’.” The trajectory goes all the way to Black Panther. And I know that if Obama wasn’t the president, 12 Years A Slave wouldn’t have been made, at all.” GS: “Wow.”DN: “Have you been able to tell him that?”SM: “I was invited to the White House because of 12 Years and we met and he said congratulations and all kinds of lovely words. He was very gracious and did talk about the movie, but no, I wasn’t able to tell him that.  A lot of things happened because of him, absolutely, there’s not a question about it.”GS: “The importance isn’t about what you think about what Obama did as president, or even what your opinion is about 12 Years A Slave. It’s about the possibilities it creates, just by existing.”SM “That’s what I’m most proud of, I’m very happy and excited about 12 Years A Slave and what it did and was. People were talking about slavery for the first time in a very interesting way. It wasn’t really spoken about. You go back to 2013, look what has happened in those ten years – things changed completely. Thank god.” DN: “Yes, thank god. I hope it keeps going and that the momentum for ‘Black films’ or for Black people getting the opportunities to make their art, to be at the forefront, continues that way and there isn’t another halt like there was in the 80s.”SM: “Indeed. Gee said the word ‘sacrifice’ very early on and I really believe that what happened during the pandemic and what happened with the murder of George Floyd is representative of that. We Black people have to deal with extremes. The fact that George Floyd was murdered in such a horrible, heinous manner in front of the world, during a pandemic: an earthquake has to arise before there’s an advancement in how we are treated. A lot of things happened after that moment, but do you see what we continuously have to sacrifice? A death in the most brutal way and a pandemic before people thought: ‘You know what? Maybe there’s something about this racism thing.” (shakes head)DN: “We go through this as adults, I just hope that our kids who went through the same thing get to process this in a healthy manner.”GS: “I’m hopeful. We’re all here, we’re working on it. I can’t be sorry about nothing; I can’t dwell on things. I got to move and get shit done. I don’t really wake up on some activism tip; I just do my things, I do what I love and what I like. I put music on, I go outside, and do creative shit. And, obviously, that is really empowering. I think that’s also something that came out of all the things that happened during COVID, the global rise of ‘Black Lives Matter’ and the aftermath of the murder of George Floyd, which is the empowerment of each other. When we were talking about the Nike commercials for ‘The Wave’ I called Steve not knowing whether he would like to do it because it’s definitely not something he’s said ‘yes’ to before. How we approached making those films together, giving space and opportunities to our Brothers and Sisters, people who are trying to do things, is the main takeaway. Getting together, establishing things together, applaud even if you don’t like a specific work. In the white man’s world, it’s very normal to have multiple perspectives and opinions, but it’s very important for us to be able to listen to each other and voice our thoughts and still say: ‘Whatever happens, yo let’s do this thing, let’s push’. Small Axe brought forth the opportunity for us to design a T-shirt and a jumper, and for Steve then came a chance to do something with a company he really likes. And it’s this Nike project and now even doing this interview and recognizing and seeing possibilities in each other, that is incredibly important. This could all be done on a much, much higher level. And don’t forget: you can vote with your wallet. If you don’t trust politicians, maybe leave the Louis Vuitton bag for once and buy a Patta hoodie or a Daily Paper shirt, or shop at Union or whoever you want to support. That’s awareness. That’s what a case like this is also showing.”DN: “I love that about you, Gee, and about Patta as a whole. I felt very early on that this was so much more than a brand and you all have proven that afterwards with Patta Academy, Foundation, Running Team and so on. Even just the expansion of the company, the stores and seeing all the ideas come to life. It gives me so much joy to witness.” GS: “You know what the thing is too? I just love people who can do things at the highest level. Regardless of color. I just like creativity. So yes, of course, I want to work with Steve because he makes incredible stuff that I adore. Making these choices and getting these ideas out, I really deem as super important.”DN: “Steve, have you heard about the Patta retirement home?”SM: “No, what is that? Gee, what have you been up to, what’s going on?”GS: “I’m not retiring. Edson has been talking about: ‘We materialized Patta Academy and now there’s another thing I really want to do: a retirement home for our people.’SM: “That is so brilliant! That is so good. I was thinking about that–maybe not what you’re doing, but is there a Black retirement home? Is there a place to go? And I couldn’t think of it. That is so beautiful.”DN: “And the best thing is, we can keep working and be mentors and still do our stuff!SM: “That’s very important. That’s so beautiful. Just to educate about Black health in general is so very important. And I think, again, people work so hard to do what they have to do, and I think this is a wonderful idea: just to look after these people who are our pioneers.”DN: “So, Gee, can you tell Edson that we’re coming?”GS: “A couple more spots filled.”SM “Seriously, are you doing that?”GS: “You know what, it’s on Edson’s mind and the same happened with his idea for Patta Academy. Our parents are getting older and we are getting older as well. I’d love to create a place where there is room for different interests beyond sitting around and playing bridge.”SM: “Interestingly, I was filming at a few retirement homes as I was doing a documentary in Amsterdam and I was just thinking: where are the Black people? Where are they?”GS: “Probably in family’s houses or family that come to their house to care for them–that’s what happens most of the time in these cultures. Sometimes, there’s also a budgetary problem. But it’s the same as with Patta Academy. When resources open up and you can get specific ideas executed, you can pull up for older people. We have to take care of the next generations to come, but we also can’t forget about the people that created space and made the ground fertile for us to build on.”DN: “This is excellent and I’m so honored to have had this conversation. My heart is full, it was amazing. Is there anything that you feel like you have to add?”SM: “I think it’s a perfect ending because we started with us discussing who inspired us as children, we talked about our childhood and our adulthood and dealing with the pasts of these institutions. To end on this beautiful note of these old people’s homes is fantastic. It’s a full circle. It’s something that often gets neglected, so I’m very inspired and touched by what Gee said.”GS: “Thank you for this. You know, when I reached out to Steve months ago: ‘Steve, we’re going to do this magazine.’ He said: ‘That’s brilliant!’. I went: ‘I really want to do an interview with you and somebody else, it can be anybody. Who would you like to talk to?’ And I gave him all these names. And he said: ‘I want to talk to you! Let’s have this conversation with you and me’. I was like: ‘Oh my god, but we can pick anyone on the planet’. And he said: ‘No! I’ll only do it with you’.”SM: “That’s typical Gee, I don’t think he knows how influential he is. I think that’s great. Sometimes I say: ‘Do you know what Patta is?!’ Before I finish: I went into the Patta store in London and I bought some stuff for my son. We were leaving the store and I had two bags. We went to this other store, just to buy some trainers and I was talking to this lady and she said: ‘You’ve just been to Patta? Aw, I love Patta. I love that store, it’s amazing, it’s really, really good. But I can’t afford it.’ When we were leaving there, I had an extra cloth bag, and I said: ‘Look, have this.’ And she was so touched. And she gave us a discount.”GS: (laughs)SM: “That’s the impact you are having. It’s the philosophy around the brand and people are obviously attached to it, so congratulations. That’s why I wanted to talk to you, you’re that significant.” 

On Thursday 18th of June, Guillaume ‘Gee’ Schmidt, Patta co-founder, is curating a special PUNCH evening in honor of Steve McQueen’s first solo exhibition in the Netherlands. Taking over the museum garden at De Pont Museum with an evening filled with music by Mr. Wix, AK Soundsystem, and DJ Max B. Food is provided by Meo.  From 17.00 to 21.00, free entry at De Pont Museum, Tilburg.  Running from 21 March to 30 August 2026, Steve McQueen’s first solo exhibition in the Netherlands,  ATLAS, presents four major works that together form an expansive meditation on history, space, trauma and perception. At its centre is the world premiere of Atlas (2026), a newly commissioned work created specifically for De Pont Museum, alongside Sunshine State (2022), Untitled (2025) and Bounty (2024). Together, the exhibition positions McQueen not only as one of the defining filmmakers of his generation, but as an artist deeply engaged with the emotional and political dimensions of image-making itself.

At the center of Tom van Veen's new body of work is a bird most people have never seen. The nightjar moves at dusk, hides in bark and moss, and only reveals itself to those who learn to look differently.Verdwijnende Vogels van Amsterdam brings together paintings, field excursions, and ecological research into a project that is as much about urban communities as it is about wildlife. Working with ecologist Pim ter Laan, Van Veen went in search of a bird that survives by becoming invisible. The palette follows: earth, bark, rust, grey-brown, twilight. Camouflage is not deception here but strategy, a way of protecting oneself, adapting, and waiting. When a species vanishes, something else becomes audible: a longing for place, for shared attention, for a more reciprocal relationship with the landscape. A longing that grows sharper as digital environments increasingly stand between us and the natural world.Responding to this work, photographer Pieter Numan presents Field Study as part of the exhibition. Using a thermal imaging camera, originally developed for military surveillance, Numan photographs people wearing camouflage and gorpcore clothing. Garments that borrow from nature, that perform a kind of belonging. But the thermal camera strips all of that away. It reads heat alone. The brand, the silhouette, the carefully constructed image: gone. What remains is a body. A presence without context, without story, without the social markers we use to define and protect ourselves. Identity, reduced to warmth.That erasure is the point. In a world where the digital layer shapes how we see and how we are seen, the camera offers a different kind of vision: one that does not recognise, does not categorise, does not scroll past. Where Van Veen seeks out the bird and learns to look differently, Numan turns that gaze around. The human becomes the observed. The animal world offers no answers. It offers a mirror.The opening is this Friday, 21 June, from 16:00 to 21:00. The exhibition runs until 26 June at Chillzone, van Diemenstraat 410, Amsterdam. 

Keti Koti Block Party On Saturday 27 June, Marimba invites SlapFunk for Keti Koti in Westerpark.Two communities, two musical worlds, coming together through shared history, sound and movement. Rooted in Afro-diasporic culture, this block party blends genres and generations in the spirit of Keti Koti. A day shaped by connection, collaboration and collective energy. Marimba and SlapFunk come together in Westerpark for a free Keti Koti Block Party rooted in remembrance, celebration and community.

Knife, Fork, Spoon 3.0, on view June 10–12 in Copenhagen, with works by a number of talented artists, designers, and architects.Curated by Dung Ngo and presented by Marta Los Angeles, the project exhibits twelve contemporary flatware designs, realised in stainless steel, produced via 3D-printing, and given form by some of today’s leading artists, designers and architects: Rafael de Cárdenas, Charlap-Hyman & Herrero, Johnston Marklee, Misha Kahn, Minjae Kim, Greg Lynn, Nifemi Marcus-Bello, Jolie Ngo, Jacqueline Rabun, Marcin Rusak, Solid Objectives Idenburg Liu (SO–IL), and David Wiseman.Presented for the first time at ARK Journal’s Design / Dialogue’s exhibition as part of 3 Days of Design, Knife, Fork, Spoon 3.0 reminds us that cutlery is an intimate part of daily life: a universal touchpoint that transcends culture and generations. This project aims to explore formal possibilities enabled by additive manufacturing and to articulate contemporary cultural perspectives on dining and materiality.

Join Our Community Ride! We’re kicking off the Patta Cycling Team’s community rides, and we want YOU to be part of it! We’ve got 10 spots open for riders who want to roll with us. If you have a well-functioning road bike, a helmet, and can join us for at least 30-50km of riding starting from Amsterdam, slide into our DMs to apply!Date: June 9thPace: ~27 km/hSpots: Only 10 available!Don’t miss out on this chance to ride, connect, and have fun. See you on the road!

An in-store live performance, Q&A, album signing and community event featuring East London singer-songwriter and cultural custodian Murkage Dave. Following the release of his third album, Brut Thoughts which features collaborations with Cinnaman, Yard Act, Young Fathers and Lauren Auder. Dave also hosts The Outlet, his residency on Refuge Worldwide, where he shares a mix of influences alongside unreleased music from friends and collaborators. The event will highlight his introspective, genre-defying sound that blends pop, indie, and soulful storytelling. Expect an honest exploration of community, urban survival, and personal vulnerability. Free entry and first-come, first-served, so bring yourself and bring your crew. Dave began making music while studying in Manchester, releasing tracks including 'Hands On Her', which was remixed by Sunship and featured on a DJ EZ compilation. During this period, he also founded the influential weekly club night Monday Murkage, which evolved into Murkage Cartel. After returning to London in 2016, Dave formed HALFBROTHER with producer and singer SCALLY, before releasing his debut EP D.A.V.E. Its standout track, 'Car Bomb', received support from Pharrell Williams and Young Fathers. Around the same time, he partnered with Mike Skinner of The Streets to launch the club night TONGA.His acclaimed debut album, Murkage Dave Changed My Life, featured Manga Saint Hilare and Jaykae, with productions from Skepta and Star Slinger. The album earned praise for its vulnerability and distinctive sound, leading to shows with The Streets, Peace and Tricky. Following the Keep Up The Bad Work tour, Dave reunited with Manga Saint Hilare for the surprise collaborative project We Need To Look After Us. His second album, The City Needs A Hero, debuted at No. 10 on the UK iTunes Chart and earning further critical acclaim. The campaign was led by the double A-side single 'Please Don't Move To London It's A Trap' / 'Awful Things', featuring Caroline Polachek.

Dutch-Surinamese Imani Imani released a surprise album today named 'Papercut'.Her 11-track debut album was released under the music label pgLang, where she joins the roster of co-founder Kendrick Lamar, Baby Keem, and Tanna Leone. Her first music video for the soft and introspective track "Mindgames" is out now. Imani Imani is wearing the Patta Track Jacket in the video. Find new Patta tracksuit releases here.  

As Afrobeats continues its global rise, Dope Caesar is emerging as one of the most exciting DJs shaping its sound and culture, but her success didn’t happen overnight. Long before the viral transitions, international bookings and sold-out shows, there were years spent studying other DJs, practising endlessly at home, learning technical precision at Vibes DJ Academy, and grinding through weekly club residencies in Lagos, one of the most demanding nightlife scenes in the world.For nearly a decade, Dope Caesar has been refining her craft in real time: playing four-night-a-week residencies, learning how to read impatient Lagos crowds, testing risky transitions live in clubs, and developing the instinct required to control a room rather than simply play songs. The viral moments people see online today are often ideas she’s been quietly sitting on for years, waiting for the right crowd and the right moment to finally understand them.Get familiar as Dope Caesar reflects on the unseen hours behind her rise, the discipline required to survive Lagos nightlife, balancing technical skill with crowd control, and why boldness matters more than perfection. As she prepares for a new chapter of global touring, she speaks on staying grounded, navigating a male-dominated industry, and understanding that true success is built long before the world starts paying attention.Recently, you’ve really broken through online. Your sets are going viral and your name is travelling globally. Does it feel like you’re in your “I’ve made it” era now, or do you still feel like you’re just getting started?Well, it’s in between. I approach life from the perspective that you don’t really know how far you’ve come until the journey has ended. Someone else is going to write that story eventually. I don’t even know myself yet. So I feel like I’ve made it because obviously I’ve grown, but at the same time I’m also just getting started because I don’t know where the story ends. It sits somewhere between those two things.And you’ve been doing this for almost a decade now, right?Nine years.Congratulations. Maybe we can go back to the beginning a little bit. What did those early days at Vibes DJ Academy look like for you?Honestly, those days felt like, “Do you even know what you’re doing?” — but you kind of do. I was already DJing before I got there, but I didn’t fully know whether I was doing things correctly. Going to Vibes DJ Academy validated everything I had taught myself through research and practice.But then another challenge came up: how do you present technical skill in a way that regular people can connect to? Because people can easily box you in as “a DJ’s DJ” or someone who should just do competitions, but that doesn’t always work on a dance floor. So it became about translating technical ability into something people can actually feel in a party environment.So it was a transition from technical skill into learning how to control a room?Exactly.What was it about the academy environment that created that shift?The tutors. They had very technical DJs there, like DJ Massive and DJ Consequence, who are some of the best party DJs in Nigeria. So you had both worlds in one space: technical precision and crowd control. You could learn different things from each person and merge them into your own style.Lagos nightlife is famously intense and competitive. Did growing within that environment shape your identity as a DJ?Definitely. The real leap happened in 2022 when I started working in a club. That became my platform to really show myself. But Lagos crowds are already used to certain things. You can’t just come in and say, “This is what I do now.”So it forced me to think differently. You can do all the hard technical stuff, but how do you make simple things exciting? Nigerians are impatient — everything has to hit immediately. Timing matters. Precision matters. Lagos keeps you on your toes constantly.Were you performing for yourself at that stage, or for the crowd?At first, definitely for the club. But I also have to put myself into it because that’s why I DJ. I have a piece of myself to give people. If I remove myself completely, then something is missing. But DJing is still for the dance floor too. You can’t make it entirely about yourself. It’s about balance.How did you first enter the Lagos nightlife scene?It’s actually the craziest story. I got a random WhatsApp message from someone saying he wanted to open a club and believed in me. I genuinely thought it was a scam because I wasn’t popular at all. But it turned out to be real.The funniest part is that at the time, I had barely even been to clubs myself. I’d probably only gone out three times in my life. But I still said yes. Then I started calling my DJ friends asking what songs they played. I studied other DJs constantly, recorded sets, watched how they controlled rooms, and practiced from there.And what did that residency look like?Four nights a week. Full-time job energy.And now you’re resident at two places, right?Yeah, now I’m a resident at Mr Panther and Guest List every Saturday. The sound, the drinks, the people - everything is amazing there and it’s for the few only, you just have to be there!One thing people really associate with you now is transitions. Your sets feel very fluid and unexpected. How do you approach building them?Chaotically, honestly. Ideas just come to me and I test them out. But over time I’ve developed rules for myself: musicality, timing, key, energy. A lot of my transitions are personal challenges. Sometimes I’m literally trying things just to prove to myself that I can do them. Transitions are risky. When they work, it’s incredible. When they fail, it’s disastrous. But I enjoy that risk.Do you test those ideas beforehand or live in the club?It depends on the crowd and the environment. You have to earn certain moments. Some transitions I’ve had for years and never played because the environment wasn’t right yet. That viral transition everyone knows? I’d already been doing it long before people saw it online. It just finally reached the right audience at the right moment.What separates a DJ who simply plays songs from someone who actually controls a room?Being bold. I don’t even think DJing itself is my talent. I know how much work it took to learn. The difference is being willing to take risks. If you take risks, you gain power over the room. You can’t play safe forever. No single moment defines you anyway. You learn from the good moments and the bad ones.Your career is becoming increasingly global now. How has that changed your life?It’s crazy because I’ve been to countries where I genuinely wonder how people even know me there. But at the same time, my life is still normal. I still play with kids in my neighbourhood. It’s not that deep to me. What I appreciate most is experiencing different cultures while sharing mine too. It’s very symbiotic.You’re about to head out on a European tour as well. What excites you most about that?The challenge. Europe is so multicultural. My Amsterdam show at Melkweg had the most diverse crowd I’ve ever seen. That really challenged me because you can’t rely only on what works in Lagos anymore. You have to understand different cultures and figure things out in real time. That excites me.What’s the difference between Dope Caesar online and Dope Caesar in real life?I honestly don’t know how people perceive me online. I think people assume I’m mysterious because I wear glasses and don’t speak too much. But I’m actually very playful. Everybody around me knows I joke constantly. I’m very minimal in how I dress and move, and I think people build a perception around that. But I’m not trying to create some fake persona. I’m just myself.Your image has become very recognisable too — the shaved head, the minimal styling. How did that become part of your identity?It happened naturally. I used to grow my hair before, but during a certain period in my life I kept telling my friends I wanted to shave it off. Everyone said I’d never actually do it. Then one day I looked in the mirror and decided to do it. My sister shaved it off for me. Some people loved it, some people hated it, but I liked it, so I kept it. I never planned for it to become part of my identity. Same with the way I dress. I like comfortable clothes and sneakers. I’m not overly fashion-focused. It just became associated with me naturally.Are original productions the next step for you musically?Yeah, definitely. I want to explore it and see where it takes me creatively.The DJ space — especially in Nigeria — has historically been very male-dominated. What has your experience been like as a woman entering that space?The ecosystem has changed a lot. More women are entering DJ culture now and I love seeing it.I always tell female DJs: just do you. People are going to talk regardless. Come with your nails done. Come feminine. Come however you want and still destroy the set. DJing isn’t about physical strength. It’s mental. It’s rhythm. It’s energy. And honestly, for a long time — controversial or not — the best DJ in Nigeria was DJ Switch. But because the industry was so male-dominated, she didn’t always receive the visibility she deserved. Now things are changing. Female DJs are finally part of the main conversation.What advice would you give to young women trying to enter that world now?Practice. Practice. Practice. Stay humble. Virality is not professionalism. When hype disappears, skill is what remains. So you need to actually know what you’re doing. And don’t just follow trends because they worked for someone else. Know yourself first. Beyoncé still rehearses constantly, so what excuse does anyone else really have?Before we wrap, what’s one song that always works in the club?“All I Do Is Win.” Every single time. People complain online about DJs always playing it, but the second it comes on, everybody’s hands go up. It’s hilarious. So that makes it funny. So that’s a track that always works multiculturally, but personally? “Ozeba” by Rema. Anytime I hear that song, I lose my mind.Dope Caeser will be back in Amsterdam on Friday, June 5th at Club Noir, tickets are almost sold out, so head over to their website to get your hands on them now or follow her on socials to find out whereelse she will be in Europe. 

Practitioner, educator, DJ, and researcher, Femke Dekker (also known as Loma Doom) has long been immersed in both sound and education. Across lecture halls, archives, festivals, art galleries, independent radio stations, and dance floors, she orbits a central question: What if listening itself were an artistic practice? What might unfold when listening becomes method, medium, and material?Open Field Listening takes shape around these ideas. Presented as a collaboration between Page Not Found—an artist-run platform dedicated to publishing and experimental practices—and the record label Osàre! Editions, the text originates from Dekker’s graduation thesis for the Master Education in Arts at the Piet Zwart Institute, Rotterdam. There, she honed her skills as a pedagogue, inviting students into improvisational jam sessions, radio-making, and exercises that activate new modes of attention and a heightened sense of sonic curiosity.Drawing on the work of scholars and artists—most notably Pauline Oliveros—Dekker approaches listening as a call to action: a way of tuning into one’s surroundings, one’s body, and the urgencies that contour our political and social worlds. She emphasizes the radical potential of reorienting knowledge toward collective attunement: the we rather than the I (or the eye). Inspired by Oliveros’s concept of Deep Listening—a way of expanding awareness through focused, embodied perception—Dekker acknowledges the composer as a foundational feminist figure whose insights continue to reverberate through the classroom, the studio, and beyond.

Words by Passion DzengaWith the release of his debut album Never Thought I Could (Part 1), South African singer-songwriter Lloyiso is starting to tell his own story. Before sold-out European shows and collaborations with global artists, Lloyiso was teaching himself production in his mother’s house, busking to get by, and building his career from the ground up. That journey from independence to international recognition sits at the heart of Never Thought I Could (Part 1). Lloyiso touches on building his own team from scratch, the struggles behind releasing the album, and why independence gave him the confidence to trust his instincts. He also reflects on self-belief, burnout, and what it means to finally feel seen by audiences around the world.You’ve recently released Never Thought I Could (Part 1), how does this moment feel for you,  and when you listen back to the album now, what emotions come up?Man, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I’ve been making this album for a couple of years now, and it’s been a tough time putting it out because some people don’t believe in it. There was a sound that was envisioned for me, but I created my own identity. This identity is truly who I am inside, and I’m just happy that I get to put it out into the world. It sounds like it was quite an uphill battle to get this record together. Why was now the right time to release your debut album?I had to build my own team. I had to build it from scratch. I had to find the people to stand up for what’s right, stand up for artist rights, stand up for real, authentic, raw talent, and not just follow the trends.I needed to find a group of people who are fearlessly unapologetic about expressing themselves in this music industry. So I started from the beginning. I found a label partner, EMPIRE. I put together my management team from all over the world. Everyone I work with is international, which was quite exciting, putting the team together that I have right now. We keep on growing and growing. The Lloyiso “empire”, if you get it, you get it. It’s expanding and becoming like a global partnership, a global-citizen type of thing. I needed to be comfortable in the team that I have to be able to put out this music.You’ve come from busking to self-producing, and now you’re working with major teams globally. Can you talk about that transition and what changed internally for you?It’s been a slow journey. Frustrating at times, because I always knew that I was destined to be on stage and hopefully not having to worry about carrying my own speakers, mixing my own voice, engineering, doing my own sound and managing myself.So I always knew that I needed to do that first before I could get into this place. And I’ve had to be tough. People speak about how dreams can make you harder than you want to be and I’ve had to be harder sometimes. As soft as I can be, I can also be a beast and those moments had to come out.I had to fight for myself. I had to feed myself. Moving out from home, living in a different city - I moved eight hours away from home to Johannesburg, and I basically paid for everything and lived by myself when I was 18 years old. So I’ve had to make those sacrifices of struggle to be able to tell the story. And I think it all comes together. The music is the story and it is the journey of what I was born to do. I had to go through that. I think if I had it easy, I would not have this much insight and depth and understanding of what it is to live for something.It feels like you prioritised independence before collaboration, can you tell us what did that independence give you that traditional systems don’t?It gave me confidence, man. It gave me the confidence that I don’t need anybody. I was doing numbers on YouTube before I got signed. I was basically Lloyiso before the other “L” was taken away. There was something that was trying to be taken away, but I never gave it. I never gave away that control. Never sold my soul. Now they talk about it in the music industry - “don’t sell your soul.” I haven’t sold my soul. I’m not going to sell my soul.I’ve had to be relentless in it. I’ve always fought for what I believe is right. Maybe it’s how I was raised, but being independent is something I’ve always done. I did everything by myself growing up. I walked to school, figured out transport and figured out how to get stationery or a uniform. I was always that kid who wanted better for myself. If I wanted to go to a new school, I’d find a way to get in so it’s always been in me to be independent.You taught yourself how to produce, what is it like being self-taught and what are the challenges that come with that?So I started producing on FL Studio. I played piano when I was like 12 years old, so that made it easier. I wanted a sound that was tailored to me. I felt like I was the only one who understood how my voice should sit in a song. I used to get frustrated going into the studio and producers would cancel on the day, in the morning. I was like, you know what - I’m tired of waiting for these guys. I’m tired of waiting for this moment. So I’m going to go get this moment.I took my mom’s old laptop, I figured it out, and I bought a mic. I plugged it into my old keyboard that I got when I was 12, and I started making music. It got better and better. Ever since then, I’ve been making my own music. That’s where it starts - at home. This album started at home, in my mom’s house, before it got out into the world, before LA. That production needed to happen for me to be fully comfortable in saying the things that I say and singing the way that I do.There’s a cinematic quality to your music. Can you talk about the sonic world you built on this album?It was definitely inspired by growing up listening to pop music – Sam Smith, Westlife, Jennifer Hudson, Beyoncé, Labrinth, Emily Sandé. I also drew inspiration from musicals like Camp Rock and High School Musical. I’m a ’99 baby, so I grew up on that. And gospel too. On this album, I put all of that together with a big inspiration - Kanye West. If you listen closely, you’ll hear it.When I started making the album, he had just put out his documentary, and I was like, you know what – I’m going to figure this out myself. I was inspired by that sound.What’s your process when starting a song? Is it melody, lyrics, or feeling first?It’s always a feeling. I let the feeling drive me. I don’t go into the studio unless I’m feeling really inspired or I have an idea. I’m a quality guy, not quantity. I don’t need to make a thousand songs to find the best one. The best ones come when you’re most inspired.And inspiration comes from life – being present, being outside, not always fixating on music. Watching sports, running when I can. It’s definitely from experiences.Is taking that space part of how you avoid burnout?Yeah, I could definitely be avoiding burnout without even knowing. Right now, I haven’t been in a making music space because I’ve got so much music waiting to come out. Part two is coming out! These songs have been sitting for two to three years, and I haven’t been in the studio since finishing them.Now I’m starting to think about what the next sound is going to be. I’m excited to explore, travel the world, and see where my voice sits best.Can you talk about your collaborations with artists like Martin Garrix and Clean Bandit?It started with me being inspired by their music. I messaged Martin Garrix back in 2016, saying I wanted to work with him. He didn’t see it at the time. Later, after my voice got shared around, he reached out and said he couldn’t believe he missed it. Same with Clean Bandit - I met them in South Africa, got into a writing room, started singing, and they went crazy.We were sending music back and forth across time zones, building the track in real time. It was meant to be. And I think my sound naturally fits within that time zone and space.Your European tour sold out. What was that experience like?Man, it was crazy. We sold out London, Amsterdam. Amsterdam was my favourite show. I didn’t expect people to come out like that. I thought I didn’t have a fanbase there. But it was incredible. I can’t wait to come back.You spent time running in Amsterdam with the community. What did that moment mean to you?It was incredible. I almost cried. To think about where I come from and what it took to get here, and to have a community that trusts me - it made me emotional. I felt seen. And that’s been a theme in my life - not always feeling appreciated or valued. So when that appreciation comes, it feels like finally someone gets it. It was beautiful to experience that.If you finish the sentence “I never thought I could…”, what would you say now?I never thought I could have more self-belief than I did before. I thought it was a phase, but I’ve been able to carry it through. I’ve been consistently appreciating myself and showing up for myself. I’ve realised I can do this. I’m capable of maintaining myself and being kind to myself.Do you still have fears?We’ll have to find out in part two. The story continues. It’s a rollercoaster. Part two will give more insight into what it feels like to be me - or what it might feel like for you too.Was this always planned as a two-part project?Yeah, it was always meant to be connected but not released at the same time. The title came later. After going through all the struggles and finally getting the green light to release the music, I realised - I never thought I could. I remember when I heard the news, I cried for like three days.Is faith important to you?I believe in the universe. I believe there’s something that connects us and gives purpose to everyone’s life.What advice would you give young creatives trying to stay consistent?For me, it was covers. But for someone else, it’s whatever your thing is. You can’t really put it into words. I wouldn’t want to tell someone how to be a superstar. Everyone becomes one in their own way. Trust your intuition. Your first idea is usually 95% right. The world speaks – you just need to listen.Listen to Lloyiso’s new album Never Thought I Could (Part 1) here. 

Homelanding’s second stage, Café Homeland, presents a five-day program featuring takeovers by well-known Amsterdam collectives. In this café, the collectives are given the freedom to curate and create an entirely unique program of their own.Get lost all evening among hip-hop DJs, punk bands, communal dinners, karaoke machines, and ping-pong tournaments. A true celebration of our city, its creators, and the diverse communities that shape us. On Sunday, July 5th, Patta Soundsystem will take over the evening program at Marineterrein, Amsterdam with free admission.

Oscar #worldpeace returns with visuals for “Chessboard Freestyle” a sharp, cinematic cut from one of the UK’s most distinctive creative voices. A long-time collaborator of Mike Skinner, Ragz Originale and benji flow, Oscar brings the same raw intimacy and off-centre storytelling that’s made his visual language instantly recognisable across the underground and beyond.“Chessboard Freestyle” moves like a late-night thought spiral: calculated, restless and unpredictable. Every frame feels intentional; balancing tension, stillness and instinct with the precision of a player always thinking three moves ahead.  

Words by Passion Dzenga | Photography by SPYDERAt a time when so much music feels engineered for algorithms, Reuben Aziz is building something far more difficult: a world people can emotionally live inside. Raised in Southampton, the 23-year-old artist has quietly built a world of his own — one shaped by emotional honesty, DIY creativity and a refusal to be boxed into genre. His latest mixtape mind the gap feels less like a sophomore mixtape and more like a statement of intent: a project that bridges vulnerability and ambition, faith and self-expression, melody and chaos. Having originally pursued basketball at a serious level before pivoting fully into music, Reuben approaches his artistry with the mindset of an athlete: disciplined, obsessive and constantly evolving. Over the past three years, he has steadily developed a sound that fuses pitched-up melodic vocals, hyperpop textures, alternative R&B and hard-hitting hip-hop production — often self-produced from his bedroom studio. Tracks like “shotgun,” which quickly gained traction online and earned co-signs from artists including Potter Payper and 4batz, have positioned him at the forefront of a new generation of UK artists creating emotionally raw music without sacrificing experimentation or edge. But beyond the viral moments and growing industry attention, mind the gap is rooted in something deeper. Throughout our conversation, Reuben speaks openly about masculinity, vulnerability, faith, purpose and the pressure of modern life. Where earlier music came from sadness and emotional confusion, this new chapter reflects a clearer sense of self — one grounded in his relationship with God and his desire to make music that genuinely uplifts people. Whether discussing the emotional complexity of modern relationships, building an intimate Discord community with fans, or touring Europe while still finding ways to stay spiritually grounded, Reuben carries himself with a level of self-awareness that feels increasingly rare in contemporary music culture.From my research, it seems like you were originally on a serious basketball journey before music became your focus. Looking back, what did that sport teach you that still applies to your music career?Discipline and consistency, for sure. The more I grow in music, the more I realise you have to treat it like a sport. Even though it’s creative, if you want longevity, you have to keep going no matter what’s happening around you. You have to keep creating, whether things are going well or not. Basketball taught me that mindset. It’s about constantly getting shots up, for lack of a better term.So when you talk about discipline, you mean talent alone isn’t enough — it’s really about putting the work in every day?Exactly. If you truly love something, you’re willing to work at it. Anyone who thinks talent alone is enough probably doesn’t love it deeply enough. Greatness comes from pushing yourself consistently. That doesn’t mean making ten songs every session, but it does mean trying to move the needle creatively every time. That’s what I tried to do with this project sonically.Let’s talk about the new project, Mind the Gap. What “gap” are you trying to bridge here?There are a few different gaps in my life that I’m trying to bridge — relationships, my relationship with God, my relationship with music and even my relationship with ambition. There’s also confidence in the title. I feel like I’ve reached a level where there’s a gap between certain people and me in the scene. This project is me showing that I’m ready to fully commit myself to this for the long run.The title also references the UK transport system, which makes it symbolic too. It feels like a journey — making sure you get off at the right stops in life.Exactly. Sonically, I wanted it to feel very London too. Even though people might label me as R&B, I wanted to break that genre barrier. A lot of the production was inspired by the UK underground scene and what’s happening culturally right now. I wanted to put my own stamp on it because I think what’s happening in the UK musically is really special.When I was describing your music to our music director, I genuinely struggled to define it. I called it something like “hyperpop, hyphy alt-rap, futuristic R&B.” It feels new.That’s important to me. If I hear a new artist and they just sound like someone I already know, I struggle to buy into it because I can just go listen to the original. If someone makes R&B that sounds exactly like early 2000s R&B, I’d rather just listen to Aaliyah or Boyz II Men. I want to make something people can’t get anywhere else.Your mixtape jumps across multiple sounds — R&B, hyperpop, and alternative music. Are you consciously trying to create something new?A bit of both. I’m chasing emotion, but production is what creates the atmosphere for those emotions to exist. When I’m thinking sonically, I’m not thinking about genres. I’m asking myself: “How can I make something that hasn’t been made before?” I started as a rapper, so even when I’m making these more melodic songs, the beats still come from a hip-hop mindset — the drums, the 808s, the energy. Everything else layered on top is just whatever the music needs. I genuinely think we don’t have enough artists trying to push R&B forward right now.Your music feels emotional, but also very controlled and intentional. What’s your creative process like? Is recording therapeutic for you?It’s definitely therapeutic. The first song I made for the project was actually the final track, “We’ll Get Married.” After that came “Shotgun,” and once I had those songs, I understood the world I wanted to build sonically. I’m intentional about the sound and direction of the project as a whole, but when it comes to writing, I try to be as emotionally vulnerable as possible. Especially as a man, I think there’s a lack of male singers speaking openly from that space. That’s something I really miss in music.“shotgun” has been everywhere lately. Can you talk about the songwriting process behind that record?It definitely gave me confidence and confirmed the direction I needed to take with this project. I made it at home — I produce everything in my room. I already knew what genres and influences I wanted to blend together for the track. Once I made the beat, I knew the lyrics had to hit emotionally. I went for a walk and wrote the opening lines there. I was being more intentional rather than just casually making another song.“shotgun” is a really beautiful love song — a modern take on romance. What inspired the lyrics?I think love today is complicated. My generation has a strange relationship with it — things can feel toxic and emotionally dishonest sometimes. Personally, I’ve always had a more wholesome or even “Disney” view of love. I think my music reflects me trying to navigate what that kind of love looks like in modern life.I think that honesty is exactly why your music resonates. A lot of people are scared to express what they truly want emotionally because nobody wants to look vulnerable anymore.Especially for men, there’s still stigma around vulnerability. It feels like people think you either have to be completely obsessed with someone or completely detached and reckless. But there’s a healthy middle ground between those extremes.A lot of young artists emotionally exhaust themselves chasing attention. How do you protect your peace while remaining vulnerable in your music?Religion is really important to me. Reading the Bible, going to church, speaking to my friends from church — all of that keeps me grounded. Social media makes comparison very easy, and that can distort how you see yourself. My relationship with God gives me humility and perspective. Without that, I’d probably be a lot more all over the place mentally.Has faith changed how you approach success and ambition?Definitely. There’s a song on the tape called “Ego Death,” and that’s a huge part of my journey. As I’ve grown closer to God, I’ve realised how much pride needs to die inside me. I’ve had to understand that this isn’t just about me. It’s about the music, about making people feel heard, feel joy, feel connection. Ironically, that mindset also pushes me to work even harder because I want the work to live up to that purpose.You’ve built a Discord community where you speak to fans daily. Was that an intentional move away from the superficiality of social media?Definitely. Discord has become a safe space — not just for me, but for the people in there too. Some of them have become real friends with each other. Social media can feel very surface-level. Discord creates intimacy around the music. I can play unreleased songs, get honest feedback and actually have conversations. I don’t even really think of them as “fans.” That word feels too distant. . Especially now, with AI and everything becoming more digital, people are craving physical experiences again — live shows, vinyl, CDs, real talent, real connection.You recently announced a train pop-up show. It’s such a DIY concept. What can people expect?We found this old underground train station-type location and we’re just going to perform there. I’ll bring my guitar, my friend’s DJing and we’ll play songs from the tape and older material too. I think the location helps build the world of Mind the Gap. I want everything around the project to feel intentional — not just the music itself. I don’t want to be lazy with any of this. I want people to feel like they’re stepping into a real world.You’ve also been touring around the UK and Europe with Artemas recently. What was that experience like?It was crazy. One of the most interesting things was performing for audiences who didn’t necessarily speak English, but still connected emotionally to the music. There were definitely moments where people didn’t know who I was yet, so I had to win them over. But songs like “Magic” always connected instantly.That tour taught me a lot about performing and about the importance of having a proper live setup. Artemas’ band was incredible and it made me realise how important a strong team is for building a show properly.There’s such a DIY spirit throughout your journey — bedroom production, self-built communities, self-produced records. Does that independence strengthen your creative identity?Definitely. For a long time, I thought working alone was the only way to create. But now that this tape is finished, I’ve realised I actually want to collaborate more moving forward. I needed these first two tapes to fully prove my own vision to myself and to the world. Now I feel ready to open things up and work with other producers and artists. I’m excited for what comes next.You recently spent time in New York and Atlanta too. What were you working on over there?We did On The Radar, which I’m excited about, and another live session called Red Couch with a full band setup. Because this project is so alternative and processed sonically, I also want people to hear the raw musicality behind it — the live instruments, my natural singing voice, all of that. Outside of that, we were mostly recording new music.Reuben Aziz's new mixtape "mind the gap" is out now! 

Words by Passion Dzenga | Photography by Louis Oomes and Luca Wehneskruzer does not make music that feels accidental. Even when he describes his creative process as organic, there is a clear emotional world running through everything he creates: nostalgic synths inspired by childhood memories, cinematic songwriting rooted in real experiences, and huge melodic hooks designed to be screamed back in crowded venues. Born in Mogadishu and raised in the Netherlands, the Somali-Dutch artist has quietly become one of the most exciting new voices emerging from the Dutch alternative scene, building a sound that sits somewhere between hip-hop, pop, rock and emotional rap music without fully belonging to any of them.PhoHis latest project, VOORBIJ DE ZON (Beyond the Sun), feels like the clearest expression of that vision so far. Built alongside close collaborators and friends, the album blends raw vulnerability with widescreen ambition, pulling influence from Somali music, Kanye West, Kid Cudi, 80s synth music and films like Interstellar. But underneath the experimentation is something deeply personal. kruzer speaks about music less like entertainment and more like documentation — every song capturing a specific moment, relationship or emotional state in his life.You’ve been making music for quite a long time already, but this feels like the beginning of a new chapter creatively. Can you take us back to the start a little bit? What first made you want to become an artist?I started making music when I was around 17, around 2017. I’d always been curious about music and really fascinated by it. Then one of my friends started making music himself, so I asked him if he could teach me how to do it. At first, I was just downloading beats from YouTube, writing songs in my room and going to the engineers to record them. That was really the beginning. Eventually, I started meeting producers and building from there, but honestly, I still hadn’t found my sound yet.Around 2019, I started experimenting much more seriously and trying to figure out what I actually wanted my music to feel like emotionally. That was around the time I met a producer called Big Cam in Rotterdam, and through working with him, I really started shaping my sound. From the beginning, I always wanted to make what I call “stadium status music.” Music that feels emotional but also massive — the kind of music people can sing together live.That ambition is interesting because your music does feel very timeless and echoes the past through its references to 80s synth-heavy music, even when it’s vulnerable. Where does that sound come from?A lot of it comes from my upbringing. I was born in Mogadishu, Somalia, and when we lived in a refugee camp, my mom used to play a lot of Somali music, but also a lot of 80s music. That’s where my love for synths and nostalgic melodies really comes from. Then later, I became obsessed with Kanye West and Kid Cudi. Those are probably my biggest inspirations musically. Especially albums like 808s & Heartbreak and Man on the Moon: The End of Day. I love music that feels emotional and cinematic at the same time.The producer I worked with on VOORBIJ DE ZON, Strayed Saint, is also a huge Kanye fan, so we both wanted the album to feel nostalgic, emotional and immersive. I kept telling him, “This album needs to hit people in the heart.”The project definitely feels cinematic. If VOORBIJ DE ZON was a movie, what would it be?Interstellar. During the time we were making the album, I rewatched Interstellar again, and it really affected me emotionally. One of the hooks on the project was literally inspired by the movie. It’s my favourite film ever. The atmosphere, the emotion, the feeling of space and loneliness and hope — all of that influenced the music a lot.Did you know from the beginning that VOORBIJ DE ZON was going to become a full album?Not at all. It actually started as a small EP with maybe four songs. But we kept making more music and realised we had too much material we loved. At one point, Straight Saint literally looked at me and said, “Why aren’t we just making this an album?” So honestly, the album happened naturally. Every song was worked on heavily, too. Some tracks probably have fifty versions. We were really obsessed over details.And everybody involved in the project is somebody I’m genuinely close with in real life. Nothing was random. GRGY jumped onto one of the songs naturally during the process and made it way better. Vjeze Fur also happened almost accidentally. Everything about the album came together organically.That word keeps coming up when you speak, "organic".Because that’s genuinely how everything in my career has happened. Nothing was forced. Even the relationships I built around music happened naturally.You’ve mentioned before that Ray Fuego played an important role in your development creatively.Definitely. Around the time I was still figuring out my sound, Ray really took me under his wing creatively for a couple of years. He gave me advice, helped me think differently and pushed me creatively. I’m super grateful to him for that.A lot of my connection with the wider SMIB world also happened naturally because my best friend, Bokoedro, already knew people from there. I started going to shows and parties with him, and eventually we all became friends naturally.You also worked with BNYX pretty early on, before he became the huge producer he is now.Yeah, this was around 2019. I was in the studio with a producer friend who had some loops from BNYX. I heard one and immediately asked, “Who made this sample? This is crazy.” Then I checked his work and saw he’d already worked with people like Lancey Foux and Ty Dolla $ign. So I just DM’d him directly and told him I had a song using one of his loops. He replied within fifteen minutes and from there we just stayed connected. We still talk now.Your previous project Elke Koning Heeft Pijn (Every King Has Pain) felt much darker emotionally. Looking back now, what does that project represent to you?That project means a lot to me because at that time, I didn’t really have the resources or people around me that I have now. I didn’t have proper engineers or proper setups. Everything was raw. I was also really depressed during that period in my life.The title came from this idea that everybody is hurting in some way underneath the surface. People only see the bigger picture or the outside image, but they never really know what someone is carrying internally. So for me, the project was about understanding that pain exists in everybody’s life and that you can’t judge people based only on appearances.Your music feels very autobiographical too. Almost like every song documents a specific memory or emotional state.Because every song really is based on real life. My music is basically my diary. Even my biggest song, “Me hart is op,” is literally about my love life. Every track captures a specific moment in my life, so when I listen back to older songs, it feels like revisiting old chapters of myself.There still aren’t many Somali artists visible in alternative music spaces like this. What has that experience been like for you?At first, it felt strange because I wondered if I was the only Somali-Dutch artist making this kind of music. But eventually, I made peace with it. Now I actually hope I can become an example for younger Somali kids so they feel freer creatively. I think it’s important to represent where you come from and not hide it.I heard you sampled one of your mother’s favourite song on your EP Rezurk as well.Yeah. I always wanted to sample that song. The lyrics are very poetic in Somali so it’s difficult to translate properly, but it’s basically about a boy chasing his vision. When I told my mom I used it in the album, she was really happy because she felt like I was honouring my roots.Is there anything creative you still want to explore further?I’m already working on the next album, actually. This next project is going to be way more festival-focused. I want to make music that people can scream together live. I also want to lean further into rock & synth pop influences. Artists like David Bowie and Pet Shop Boys inspire me creatively a lot.You’ve already received support from artists like Ronnie Flex, Ray Fuego and Vjeze Fur pretty early in your journey. What do those co-signs mean to you?It reassures me that I’m on the right path. All those artists make completely different kinds of music, so the fact they all connect with what I’m doing makes me feel like maybe I’m creating something unique. What becomes clear when speaking to kruzer is that his music is less about genre and more about feeling. Every project feels carefully constructed emotionally, even when he insists much of it happened accidentally. Beneath the synth-heavy production, huge hooks and alternative textures is someone trying to document his life honestly while building something larger than himself at the same time. And maybe that is what makes VOORBIJ DE ZON resonate so strongly. It does not sound like an artist chasing trends or trying to fit neatly into a scene. Not because it tries to sound like the future, but because it sounds like someone becoming fully comfortable with who they already are. 

This issue highlights Wiley, Universally hailed as “the Godfather  of Grime”, the London-born MC and producer Wiley has played a  massively influential role in bringing the UK Grime movement to a  worldwide stage throughout his prolific and storied career marked  by the extreme highs and lows of violence, controversy, and global  stardom.Emerging from London’s culture of pirate radio stations and  garage music during the early 2000’s, Wiley followed in the  footsteps of his father - a reggae musician who introduced him  to hip-hop at a young age - and began producing instrumentals  mixing the regional influences of dancehall and jungle music,  adding verses to his tracks with a wide variety of collaborators  including members of his original grime crew Roll Deep, formed in  2001.As grime became a global phenomenon during the 2010’s, Wiley  remained at the forefront of the genre, pushing the movement  forward through his innovative work ethic and a consistent ethos  of collaboration. Today, his enduring legacy is present within the  sound he helped pioneer, becoming a foundational influence on a  new generation of stars across the scope of UK rap and drill music.This issue also highlights M Huncho, Bel Cobain, AJ Tracey, TOX DDS, Amy  Leung, Dynamite, Victory Lap Radio, D Double E, Potter Payper, Charlie Birch,  Karim B, E Pellici, Tim & Barry. Living Proof, the London Issue is available now at Patta London.