In the mid-Seventies, deep in Soho’s sleazy underbelly, down a staircase and into a dodgy basement club called Crackers, London was bouncing to the ridiculously upbeat combination of funk, soul, jazz and hints of reggae and pop.

At the time, this blend of evolutionary sounds was unheard of before, drawing heavily on imported US records from artists like Brass Construction, Roy Ayers and BT Express but with the local DJs adding a distinctly British flavour on the decks. The scene was called Brit-funk and, though short-lived, it laid the foundations for club culture as we know it today, breaking down racial barriers long before acid house.

Patrons aged from their mid-teens to early twenties went out to dance, a key pillar of the movement – the floor was a no-go area unless you were prepared to dazzle with your moves. Daytime parties, which started at lunchtime, were also key. Venues such as Watford Baileys, Bobby McGees, Global Village, the aforementioned Crackers, Lacy Lacy in Ilford and The Goldmine in Canvey Island, where Chris Hill held court, were essential to its inception. Hill, along with Greg Edwards, Robbie Vincent and Colin Curtis, a Northern Soul selector, began to play the homegrown sound as labels such as Ensign and Elite Records began. Chris Hill and Robbie Vincent also managed bands, Hill looking after Light of the World and Vincent handling Second Image.

This scene spawned a number of groups, like Incognito, Hi-Tension, the afore mentioned Light of the World, Beggar and Co, Central Line, Freeez and Linx, many of whom went on to play on Top of the Pops – Hi-Tension even reached the UK Top 10 with their self-titled single in 1978. These bands were among the first wave of Black British youth culture that filtered down to the pop charts en masse.

Soon, pockets of Brit-funk popped up across the UK, with different regions having their own nuanced version, many of it influenced by the music that they’d heard on American army bases. Bands quickly formed. In the north, there was The Real Thing, a sophisticated group from Liverpool; in Dundee, Average White Band. Interestingly, several of these acts achieved success across the pond – Linx, David Joseph and Imagination are among those whose records made their way to tastemakers like the legendary house DJ Larry Levan. Imagination even performed at his club, Paradise Garage in New York, making them the first British group to perform there.

In 1979, aged 14, I heard a track called ‘Dancing in Outer Space’ by a UK band called Atmosfear. To me, it was amazing, and in November, it peaked at No. 46 in the UK top fifty, most likely whilst everybody else was listening to Buzzcocks, Clash,The Ruts, The Damned, The Jam and The Pistols.

I was a funk/soul/disco fan, listening to Radio Luxembourg and even Pennine Radio (235 on the AM band…), and this song stood out, in its complexity (as opposed to the bands mentioned above), and it was part of that Brit-funk scene.

One person weaved through that scene; Jean-Paul Maunick, known as Bluey. He was original member of Light of the World, worked with Freeez, and formed his own band; Incognito in 1979 with another member of Light of the World.

Fast forward to the 2020 Brit Awards and Tyler The Creator, winner of the ‘Best International Male, does a shout out to “all the British funk from the Eighties that I try to copy” and a watching Gilles Peterson was inspired to contact Maunick and start sending him Brit-funk records, rarities and hits that represented the era. Gilles said “If you’ve got any old tracks lying around, maybe we can put some out’” (on his Brownswood Recordings label).

Maunick explained in an interview. “I went in and I thought, ‘Let me see if I can create a track that’s got that vibe, with just myself in the studio, then give it to Gilles and pretend that I found it.”

In 2021 Peterson and Maunick released the album Aspects under the name STR4TA. It’s a conceptual eight-track recording that fuses together the raucous energy and DIY sound of early 80s Brit-funk, combined with spacey-synth melodies, jazz dance grooves, and hypnotic vocals. Capturing the essence of the sound perfectly, and without any context, for music lovers who remebered that genre/era, you might first think this is a lost Brit-funk recording from 1981.

I love this album, and also the 2022 follow-up; STR4TASFEAR (note the link in the name to Atmosfear…).

Some additional reading if you were so inclined:
https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2014/feb/05/10-of-the-best-britfunk

https://daily.bandcamp.com/lists/brit-funk-list

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2021/apr/02/how-britfunk-overcame-racism-to-reinvigorate-uk-pop

https://www.juno.co.uk/junodaily/2021/10/26/a-secret-history-of-uk-dance-how-black-brit-funk-shaped-the-acid-revolution/