London underground rap has been popping out names like candy lately. The scene’s rising star, SINN6R, shut down his #FEDERAL album tour in sparkling red grillz. In collaboration with Post Party, he threw one final night of star-spangled hedonism on April 27. It was a mosh pit of the next big things in the “UK Ug” (UK underground) – the Gen-Z movement merging emo rap with electronic music and a lo-fi internet aesthetic.
When a rapper gets mentioned so frequently alongside fakemink and EsDeeKid – some of the biggest talents born from UK Ug – they undeniably become someone to watch. With the buzz surrounding #FEDERAL, a drill/trap crossover featuring Ledbyher and Lancey Foux, SINN6R could be next in line to the mainstream.
Post Party is a music and fashion collective slap bang in the middle of London’s emerging cultural explosion. It’s led by brothers Wolf and Lux Gillespie, 24 and 21, sons of Primal Scream lead vocalist Bobby Gillespie who describe their indie sleaze blowouts as “the afterparty before the afterparty”. They lend the stage to mates in the (usually miles apart) scenes of drill, electronic pop and rock alike – from The Femcels to Jeanie and the White Boys. “Post Party is mostly known for putting on the best fucking shows and parties with their friends,” the collective told Cold.
Pulling up to the event, I rolled out of my Uber way too sober and was met with a queue of black-studded Opium outfits trailing down the streets of Shoreditch. The sweaty, bustling crowd had metastasized the entire radius of 45 Curtain Street, spilling out of nearby establishments and excitedly recounting the stories that led them there. The nonchalant demeanour typical of the UK Ug had been completely overridden by anticipation. We were in for a night to remember, and we knew it.
After a full-body pat down, the fitted-up fans were instructed by bouncers to ride the lift down to -3, stripping the phrase “underground” to its most literal roots. Through a tiny door in the back of a mostly empty room, we found the party. Those who had already made it inside posed statuesque on the sofas to display their perfectly curated fits. Couples had begun to make out on the roped off pseudo-VIP sofas in the back of the room as the DJ blasted OsamaSon to a static venue.
By midnight, the statues began to spill off their podiums and stumble into the centre of the room. A slurry of rappers, models, and fans were packed shoulder to shoulder, reciting every lyric to “FEIN” in perfect unity, so loud that it could’ve shaken the buildings above us. Girls fell elegantly to the ground in kitten heels and got promptly gated out by security. I was beginning to feel the solo cup vodka cranberry I chugged on entry. The tension and the attendees were way too high. The party was about to start.
Performer Shaiwarrior ricocheted across the stage like he was battery-powered, the energy for his opening set reaching the perfect level to match his hyperpop beats. Ambitious fans attempted ceaselessly to part the crowd for a mosh pit, which might’ve been successful if anyone was sober enough to stand on their own two feet.
The smoking area was a motive of its own. Joints floated around faster than the smoke coming off them as people drunkenly butchered skate tricks in fresh Jimmy Choos. Careers and origin stories were boasted loudly in desperate attempts to separate themselves from anyone who was “just a fan”. Performers weaved in and out, chatty and unbothered. Hierarchies were only upheld by those begging to broach the inner circle.
Back inside, SINN6R finally appeared, drink in hand and entourage in tow – dressed from grillz to shoes in red to match the velvet curtain from which he emerged. In the ocean of black clothes, he was unmissable. A single file formation lined his walk from the backroom to the stage, flailing for selfies or at least a glimpse of recognition from the night’s star.
He took a sharp diversion from the spotlight, stationing himself at the back of the stage whilst collaborator Dacko continued to rile the ever-growing crowd. Chants of an upcoming SYST7M release pulsated the floor as the sweaty cocaine heartbeats synced with the music. The audience was heaving and merging into one uncontrollable entity. Mangled limbs intertwined and the only things discernible became the 4s thrown in the air for SYST7M’s crew, as if reaching out for help from the depths of a riptide.
The man of the hour took the mic. Showing no sign of depleted energy from the packed out gig he’d just played at OUTERNET, he tore up the stage with his crew. As the night hit climax, he decided: “Fuck this music ting, let’s just have some fun tonight”.
A few of the guestlist scurried off stage and back to their elusive private room at the back of the party. A clear opening. I clambered up with my photographer to watch the surging mass of leather and dilated pupils from a birds-eye view. It was wired. Electric. Massive enough to cause a worldwide shortage of designer outfits and designer drugs. With SINN6R now nowhere to be seen, the remaining performers teased the pleading crowd into submission by blaring unreleased collaborations and 2010s hits.
Former emo kids and streetwear devotees bounced tirelessly in synergistic alliance for the remaining hours of the night. By the time I tried to surface for a smoke, it was 2am and re-entry was strictly off limits. SINN6R re-emerged from the curtain a handful of times, stopping for fans but always too busy to land in one spot.
The dancefloor crowd sank back into the sofas like zombies, holding intense personal debates on whether to meet their plug outside or hang back until the clock struck curfew. The private room was no longer private. Curtains hung open as the last men standing waited in limbo for the next location to drop. As “the afterparty before the afterparty”, this Post Party blowout lived up to its name.
