JP’s UK Culture Picks: June 2026

Welcome to JP’s UK Culture Picks, your one-stop monthly column for all the best in UK music and culture! Expect everything from my favourite tracks and albums of the month to random YouTube finds, fire food spots to club night recommendations. You can find me on IG: @josephjppatterson.

Trapstar made the world pay attention to UK streetwear. Let’s put some respect on their name.

Trapstar is officially back in the game... But did they really even go anywhere?

Less than 48 hours after reports hit that the brand was heading into administration, another news flash dropped: the West London label founded by Mikey, Will and Lee in 2008 had been acquired by the retail giant/content platform Footasylum, with the founders remaining at the helm. So while some across social media were already writing them off, the Trapstar trio were busy securing the brand’s future—hats off to ‘em. Now, I’m not here to give a forensic breakdown of the administration report (see Queen Charmaine for that); this is about giving flowers to a UK empire that has helped pave the way for so many of the streetwear brands shining globally today.

If you’ve been around long enough, you’ll know that Trapstar has been an integral cog in the UK’s cultural wheel for many years, but let me take you back for a hot sec. The year is 2009, and you’ve just rolled out of Lily Allen’s album launch party at YoYo’s in Notting Hill—where, in one corner, Adele is skanking out; in another, Tinchy Stryder and Ruff Sqwad are posted up; and in the next, Mark Ronson is chopping it up with a bunch of cool kids from the manor. Outside, there’s a group of guys standing around a convoy of whips, music tumpin’, holding what look like pizza boxes. People are handing over cash for said boxes and walking away smiling; it feels like the opening scene of Paid In Full. Inside those boxes? Trapstar tees; graphic heavy, in a range of colours.

I was lucky enough to get given one, having known Mikey through him coming down to my grime club night, ChockABlock, which was a bit of a cool-kids hotspot at the time. Back then, in those first couple of years, Trapstar was mostly for friends of the brand and West London locals—but that was part of the appeal. You felt like you were part of something not everybody knew about (the brand’s now-famous slogan, It’s A Secret, was really a thing from the start). No TikTok rollouts, no marketing teams trying to drum up fake hype—if people were talking about Trapstar, it was because they had legit discovered it themselves. And that’s what made the brand so unique in those early days: it actually felt like a secret.

Watching the rise of Corteiz and the hype around Clint reminds me of those early Trapstar days; not because the brands are similar, but because the reaction feels familiar—the excitement around it, the demand for it, the gas of seeing something from our world capture the entire world’s attention. Whatever you think of the brand, what Corteiz has achieved is super-impressive. Clint has built one of the most in-demand labels in streetwear, with a whole generation invested in not just the brand, but in him as well. But some of the talk around its rise seems to ignore what came before it, as if sold-out drops, celeb co-signs and culture-shifting, globally-seen moments didn’t exist before this new social media era.

Before TikTok and Instagram, before viral location drops, Trapstar—and many of us within London’s creative scene—were already sitting front row at fashion shows, moving in the same circles as the stars and building communities around us that repped where we came from. And that’s why Trapstar’s story will always matter. Without them, it’s hard to imagine brands like Corteiz, Manchester’s Clints and, to an extent, even Palace commanding the same level of respect and credibility internationally. UK streetwear brands are now seen as legitimate cultural exports—brands that celebs wanna rock in their everyday lives, rather than being given bread to wear them. Trapstar, along with, say, Walé Adeyemi, helped to create that shift; they opened doors and set a blueprint that many would go on to follow.

What they also did was prove that a streetwear brand from London—young Black London (important point)—could sit comfortably on the world stage. So the next time you’re tempted to count them out, please remember: before the algorithms, before every drop became a hype ting across social media, there was Trapstar.

A quick explainer on Black British culture… in 2026.

I can’t believe that, in big 2026, people are still struggling to separate a culture’s popularity from its roots. This latest melee was sparked by the recent beef between internet personalities Alhan and Poet (beef no grown adult should be caring about), but what has come out of it—at a time when the UK is experiencing heightened tensions around race—is yet another debate about “the culture”, MLE (Multicultural London English) and where all of this actually comes from. The reality is that a lot of what people consider British “urban culture” today is, in fact, Black British culture, which itself is made up of mostly Caribbean and West African influences.

The slang, the style, the ~aesthetics~, swag and bop—BLACK!

Grime, dubstep, garage, jungle (and everything else that came out of soundsystem culture)—BLACK!

Other communities have of course contributed to, participated in and influenced these scenes over time—that’s how culture works—but contribution isn’t the same thing as origin. It seems like once something goes mainstream, people are quick to detach it from the communities that created it. But sorry to tell you: the roots of all this will never change. And if knowing that makes you feel weird, get some help for dat g!

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

Album Of The Month: On ADMD (All Dorks Must Die), Scorcher rightfully flames the dorks of the industry

Scorcher’s year-long campaign to rid the music biz of all the dorks, which began with that infamous Kenny Allstar freestyle, rolls on with his new album ADMD (All Dorks Must Die). After spending a few years out of grime’s limelight, the North London MC returned in 2024 with a string of fire-in-the-belly freestyles that are still talked about today, before going on arguably one of the best comeback runs we’ve seen in recent history in 2025, which was capped off by a MOBO Award for Best Grime Act.

On All Dorks Must Die, Scorcher reminds everyone why he’s one of the UK’s most gifted lyricists (not that any of us who’ve followed his career since ’06 needed reminding). Across the 17-track set, the grime and rap veteran takes aim at an industry he believes has lost its way, armed with elite-level penmanship and unapologetic authenticity that have made him one of the scene’s most revered voices. Standouts include “Reload”, “9:17PM” and “Jordan”—although singling out highlights feels a bit pointless when the whole thing bangs! Enough chat. Listen for yourself. 4/5

Fly high, Kanya King... Fly high.

Dear Kanya King, you will be missed by those of us who had the pleasure of working alongside you at the MOBO Awards throughout the years. Your legacy is cemented in history and we will do our best to make you proud up there. Rest in eternal peace.

Tracks Of The Month