There are icons, and then there’s Don Letts. For five decades, the man has been more than just a presence; he’s been a catalyst. The dreadlocked DJ who famously armed London’s burgeoning punk scene with the bass-heavy power of reggae at The Roxy in ’77, he defined a pivotal moment in history. As a filmmaker for The Clash, musician with Big Audio Dynamite, and broadcaster, he has consistently operated on the bleeding edge. Letts is the original Rebel Dread, the living embodiment of Black and British, who championed ideas over commerce. 

Meeting him, you expect an imposing figure, a man weighed down by the gravity of his own history. Instead, you get a lanky, cool-as-fuck elder statesman who carries his legacy with a lightness that’s almost disarming. I had to know how a man who has lived such a life distils his own essence.

The Sound of a Black and British Duality

For 16 years, Don has been a fixture on BBC Radio 6 Music, his ‘Culture Clash Radio’ show a testament to a life lived between worlds. People call it eclectic, a label he shrugs off with effortless logic.

“You know what’s funny? People say I’m eclectic, but I’m like, who the hell listens to one kind of music except for a 10-year-old? If you go around most people’s houses, if they’ve got a little bit of taste, it’s quite varied… My show just reflects the duality of my existence, which is black and British. I grew up with sort of reggae and black music coming in this ear, and the Beatles and the Stones and Led Zeppelin in this ear. And I’ve always been open to whatever’s out there, especially if it’s got a good bassline.”

This openness wasn’t just a personality trait; it was a conscious decision, a personal rebellion. “When I was young, I decided I wasn’t going to be defined by my colour. Okay. You know, just because I was black didn’t mean I couldn’t dig The Who or Led Zeppelin or whatever, you know.” He admits he was the odd one out in his Brixton community. “I was put it out there. I was the odd one out, but I kind of revelled in that, you know what I mean? Yeah. And the girls liked me, thought I was interesting as well. Which helps, too. Yeah, because I wasn’t like the other brothers, you know.”

When Brixton Met Punk Rock: The Roxy Revolution

The story is legendary. It’s 1977. London is spitting, snarling, and tearing itself apart to the soundtrack of anarchism, punk rock. At the epicentre of this nascent scene is The Roxy, a grimy club in Covent Garden. The house bands—The Clash, The Slits, Siouxsie and the Banshees—are still figuring out how to play. During the breaks, the club’s DJ, a dreadlocked kid from Brixton named Don Letts, spins a 45. But it’s not punk. It’s reggae.

“Back in 1977, the white kids were looking until before they created punk rock, they wanted a rebellious sound,” he explains. “And there’s a tradition of white kids looking into black music for their rebellious fix… By the mid-70s, you know, a bunch of British white kids that had grown up with kids like me, children of the Windrush, had been turned onto these bass-heavy rhythms that had come from the island and they adopted it as their rebellious soundtrack until they created their own, which was punk rock.”

Subculture in the Age of the Influencer

Don has lived through the birth and death of countless subcultures. From punk to rave, he’s seen it all. But he sees a fundamental shift in the motivations of today’s youth.

“I’ll tell you the difference is the aspirations of the people that are involved in all this stuff now,” he states, leaning in. “When we got involved in it in the last half of the 20th century, doing these things, getting involved in music, or making films as I did, was an anti-establishment thing. Yes. Call us naive, but we thought we didn’t want to be part of the establishment.”

And now?

“Fast forward to where we are in the 21st century, and now, you know, people want to be on the red carpet, they want to be on the MTV Awards. They want to have a bottle of Cristal. And they get into it to be part of the system. And I think if that is your goal, I don’t know how radical you can be… The only way forward in the 21st century, really, is to have new values. The minute you say, you know what? I’m not interested in all that stuff, I’ll go my own route. You might not make as much money, but at least you can be true to yourself and do something that’s genuinely going to move things forward and not just move product.”

This isn’t just an old man yelling at a cloud. He empathises with the economic pressures facing the young. “There are kids, young people now, living with their parents in their 30s, 40s, and, you know, hard to be a rebel with your mum doing a washing up. You know what I mean? The economy has had a devastating impact… you can’t do stuff and take risks. You’ve got to do stuff that’s going to get your rent paid.”

No Regrets, Just Wisdom

From his time managing the punk-fashion emporium Acme Attractions with Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren (“I didn’t want to wear rubber gear. It wasn’t me.”) to directing over 300 music videos for everyone from The Clash to Musical Youth, Don’s path has been his own. I ask if there were any forks in the road, any missed opportunities he looks back on.

The answer is instant and absolute. “None? None. I mean, look, I mean, I don’t know what’s going on about what I’ve done, but even I’m, like, whoa. People tell me it’s a pretty wild ride. And I’m still standing… So it would be churlish for me to sit here and go, ‘I wish I…’ You know what I mean? I’ve been musically blessed.”

He’s taken his wild ride to Jamaica and back, famously taking bands like Black Grape to the island. “I’ve taken a few bands to Jamaica, and Jamaica’s always blown their minds. Shaun and Kermit and Bez, they blew the Jamaicans’ minds. Trust me.”

Now a grandfather, he views the world through a new lens, but his core philosophy remains unchanged. It’s encapsulated in a story from his childhood.