Theory77 in his own words:

“I’m Mike. I do pretentious rap stuff, Cut records, Make pretty sounds, Guitar bad, Banjo worse, hurt myself and eat Veg. Awesome. ”

Some stuff about Mr.Theory77: (Press play on this podcast player first to agitate the drums in your ear canals to allow your brain to process the waveforms into cuts, scratches, human voice & Theory’s choice of music…

Ok then. History.

This’ll be tough – My memory’s never been all that great.
Let’s see.
Humble beginnings.

My first four or so years were spent in a house I can’t remember anymore way down on the south coast of England.

My first memory was being locked and left in the back of a car.

My second memory was ripping my big toenail off after jumping from a chest of drawers onto my Mothers bed.

Then I moved into a house on the edge of a not there anymore railway line.
I grew up and lived here throughout school.
I used to watch from the bedroom window when the alarm bell sounded.
The gates fell, traffic stopped and the trains crossed the road.

There used to be an apple tree, a pear tree, a cherry tree and a plum tree in the garden.

Old stone steps down to the pond.
Every time it snowed I’d fill in the gaps for my sledge.

I used to climb all the trees down in the woods, hole my clothes and piss off all the horses at the farm. I always fancied myself a stuntman and did a load of dumb stuff there.

At school I liked words and pictures and wasn’t too bad at either.
I’ve never cared for numbers.
I had a couple of crummy teachers and one day I jumped the fence and went on the run.

Mum and Dad ran an incredible video store back when VHS was god and censors were few. I saw it all – unbeknownst to my folks. Then the new laws came into effect and the BBFC came to seize everything.
And that one still hurts.

One weekend I managed to catch a few minutes of Beat Street before my friends brother kicked us out of his room.
The next day the same friend replicated the Doug E Fresh clicks on the way to Maths.
And my small town mind melted.

Not much later I somehow got hold of a 7″ of ‘The Show’ with the bleeper version of ‘La di da di’ as the other side. Remember how awful that edit was?
I guess that was the first time I ever heard anyone messing around on the turntables.

The second time was a cassette I found in another friends older brothers room.
A twenty minute scratch every line to death thing using Public Enemys first LP.
All recorded through a Microphone set up on a bookshelf.
None too hot but at the time it sounded like a work of art.
Impressionable ears.
I worshipped that tape and Id never even met the guy.
He probably didnt even notice it had gone.

Soon after that I started collecting cheap discarded turntables.
All shapes all sizes.
Pulling them apart. Screwing it down. Modifying. Rebuilding.

Finally I settled on this huge and heavy cassette-deck-included thing and fashioned myself a cardboard slip mat.
I pulled out the right speaker and used the balance slider on the front as a poor mans crossfade.
No frills, no nothing.
I still have the tapes someplace.

I learnt the basics on these things and recorded myself just like that tape.
I’d slow down the records manually and listen. Try to figure it all out.
Then I set about copying the patterns.
It were years and years before I could afford better equipment.
Devil sent contraptions.
Pause tape religion.

Started trying my luck writing lyrics at around sixteen. Maybe earlier.
Either way it was all awful.
I even have a couple of freestyle tapes from a party somewhere that need incinerating. Rakim never freestyled.
Your typical fast brag rap or laughable political attempts.
You live and learn. The heart was there.
Thankfully I stopped writing altogether after a couple of years.

Did my first graffiti piece in the pouring rain which obviously came out peachy.
Went by ‘Care’ then – the reasoning behind this still eludes me.

Played my first DJ set at an early evening dive called Slurps.
Did a few little cuts here and there and a quick double up of ‘Poetry’ by BDP.
The good, good, good old days.

Started making beats/noise around ’94, ’95.
Alone with a four track cassette.
Later on I hooked up with Willet and Jim and we began to make beats above the comic shop with Jesus Christ eating Big Macs behind the punch bag that stank every time you’d kick it.
We made some strange stuff in that strange place. Strange times.
I can’t divulge too much.

Started hunting for obscure or just plain oddball records around the same time.

Then came the Go-off which was another incredible night in the early days.
I played the first with another guy who still to this day tells how I ruined his life.
I still don’t know why.
B-boys. Writers. MCs. The works.
Probably one of the first hip hop nights in the backward city and I’m grateful to have been a part of it.

I continued to play and do my showcase routines. Getting a little better.
Entering battles. All of them. Always.
I did pretty well I guess.

Started a DJ band with Taz and Shanks (The Sasquatch) called Plastic Soldiers.
Did a little here and there. Still practice with them every now and then when we get the chance to hook up. Won this and that.

Played on the Peel sessions in 2001 for the man himself.
He shook my hand and mumbled the word ‘astonishing’ at me.
Then I set to work picking up the thirty something records I’d scattered all over his studio for the past eight minutes.

I think the last actual competition was in 2002 at the DMC finals where I snapped a drum and bass record at the judges feet.
I didnt much care about it by then.

In fact by then I didnt much care for hip hop at all and I listened to it less and less. I didn’t like the way it was going.
So I stopped going to most shows and got miserable about it all.
But that wasn’t so bad. I Stayed in and read books and continued to immerse myself in the stuff with more guts.

And then I began to write again.
Mainly because I arrogantly didnt want anyone on my beats but also because I couldnt find anyone I liked anymore.
I had books of these oddball poems and spewed out a really depressing LP that I’m not going to let you hear.
I like a few of the beats I did for it but the rest is utter garbage.
And not of the good kind.

The first time I performed in front of anyone (at all) was on stage.
Do or die.
They billed it as an out of retirement DJ set before the main act.
I lied a little bit – mainly so if the nerves kicked in I could fall back on the turntables Id always been comfortable on. Cowardly cookie.

I’ll go into the music later.
One day.
This is too damn long.
I still make, I still write and I still cut.

Fun facts.
I like weather and find things on the floor.
I collect junk.
I dodge fares and drift around.
I run in storms and hope for the best.
I get older and write down dreams.
I give directions to the book shop.
I vanish.
I ride my bike and walk for miles.
I can’t sleep and write lists I never complete.
I ran out of storage a long time ago.
I don’t do meat, dairy, drug or drink.
I had my passport stolen by the landlord.
I own a lot of scary films.
I’ve got a pad and pen in the left pocket right now.
I read a load of books at the same time.
I value manners and forget names.
I have the Recognition LP signed.
I jump off bridges and I quit most jobs.
I have clothes more hole than garment.
I’m always looking.
I like nature and climb a lot of trees.
I dont watch TV and I bowl pretty good.
I like it ancient.

That’s about it.

Thanks for your time.
Mike.