The Mix 047: Man Power

There are few people in the dance music world where the tagline "soldier of the scene" feels like a dramatic understatement. Having first grown to prominence under his current moniker a decade ago with his eponymous LP 'Man Power', this underground polymath has made his mark as a producer, DJ, label head and promoter — but that is just the tip of the iceberg. Last year saw Man Power undertake perhaps his most ambitious project yet, establishing a grassroots venue in his hometown with the mission to build a new underground utopia.

Born-and-raised in North Shields, Tyneside, Man Power, AKA Geoff Kirkwood, credits the contrasting music eras of his Queen-loving grandparents, his rock-obsessed father and his rave-favouring mother as a driver behind his eclectic tastes. "Anybody will tell you, there's this thing about what your parents play in the car," he says. "My dad was playing jazz, funk, rock and roll, while my mum was playing rave tapes. It sounds outlandish, but that was just standard to be fed dance music at the same time as Dire Straits. It normalised everything for me." As a child he first began learning to make music on an organ his grandparents owned, "I kinda got taught that I could make a noise and play an instrument - even if it was just so it wasn't gathering dust." He remembers a moment when his mother's ex-boyfriend played 808 State's 'Pacific State' as his first time recognising a burgeoning love of dance music: "He beckoned us into the back room and played it, and It was amazing... I can remember thinking 'what the hell is this?'. He looked at us, and he said 'This is house music, and it's going to change the world.' It's so cringey, even thinking back now... it was such a forced moment. I will say though, if it wasn't so cringey it would be an amazing intro to a biopic that's never going to happen of my life. But that definitely was a moment."

Read this next: New grassroots venue to open in North Shields, Are You Affiliated

With an eye-watering discography that spans everything from Italo to experimental ambient, deep house to Detroit techno, Man Power dishes out an equally comprehensive offering in his DJ sets. During one of his wide-spanning deep dives, it isn't unusual to be caught in the throes of Björk before being propelled into Joey Beltram's 'Energy Flash' — you might even catch a tongue-in-cheek drop of the Byker Grove theme tune if you're lucky. His work as a label head on Me Me Me showcases this extensive love of everything off-kilter, bringing together weird-and-wonderful sonics, from established names and up-and-coming talent alike.

After moving back to his birthplace of North Shields during the COVID-19 pandemic, after stints living in Mexico and Berlin, Man Power turned his focus on building up his community — giving workshops and mentoring local aspiring DJs and producers. Last year he took it a step further, setting up Are You Affiliated at North Shields' King Street Social Club, wanting to build a space that went against the grain — focusing on affordability and giving local people a stake in their nightlife scene. It's been a massive success, and in a time of club closures and a multitude of pressure on nightlife venues, a rare light and the end of the tunnel.

We sat down with Man Power to talk about the current music landscape, providing a space for working class people to connect with culture and what makes the North East one of the best places to dance in the world. You can read the interview and listen to Man Power's Panorama Bar-inspired mix below.

You had a pretty huge 2024 - a BBC Radio 1 Essential Mix, two EPs, dozens of releases, US and Asia tours — and the launch of your own grassroots venue: Are You Affiliated. Did it feel like a big year for you?

To be honest it has been a big one and it hasn't. Previously, when things took off I was getting excited about career milestones and then you got to them and I was kinda like: "They are all a bit shite" [laughs]. It was a bit deflating. But people like new stuff, a few people can stay mega-big forever, but for most people, the trajectory has to tail off. So I spent quite a few years getting caught up in not getting asked to do things anymore or being 30% less busy than I was before — remixes aren't coming in as much, etc. I was panicking about that, but then this year it's all actually been quality stuff that has been on my terms that I care about. So from my point of view, it has been a big year, and it's been rewarding — the best year I've had as a DJ I think.

Is it about, instead of aiming towards those milestones, focusing on consistency?

I guess. If I'm honest, the true answer to that question is that it's about stopping giving a shit [laughs]. I come from an underground background, throwing parties in random places in the North East... I'm part of the acid house movement I guess. That led to me making some music and working on projects, and one of them gets popular and it's like — you know that thing where when you boil a frog it can't tell the temperature is rising? It was like that, I went from being someone attracted to underground culture for so many years, and I followed my nose and the logical expression of it was that I was a cog in the entertainment industry. I was turning down friends and parties I liked because I was getting bigger offers to play what were basically, mainstream arena gigs. I just realised there was no point in worrying about achieving those things because if I did I wouldn't enjoy them — I don't care about them. The slow burn to me is just devoting yourself to things you actually give a shit about, and jettisoning stuff you don't care about.

Did you get your start in the rave scene early?

I think you probably get this with where you're from in the North, you don't go out straight away and start discovering rave culture. That doesn't happen. This romanticising of it all, its bollocks. I was going out with groups of feral Geordies looking to either get with a member of the opposite sex or have a punch-up, that was the experience of everybody out there. It's also from a poverty of aspirations, none of us were aware that type of thing was out there. We all came from industrial backgrounds, so everybody does what everyone else does and everybody is scared to do anything different because there's a lot of groupthink there.

I think I've found out in recent years, it may have been down to ADHD or just being a bit weird, that I just always felt a bit different to everybody else. So the rave scene was something I fell gradually into, I had a liberating moment in my late teens and I realised the conversations I was having with people were a bit deeper, and I was going to parties with people listening to music that I liked — so it started to click, that those things all go hand-in-hand. Feeling like a weirdo and coming together listening to music made by outsiders and weirdos gave me space to explore the depths of my personality, and not become that cardboard cut-out clone that I was destined to be. I was free to like different things and explore them, it was a growing space more than anything else.

Read this next: Why Newcastle's DIY clubbing scene is thriving

There has been an argument in UK dance music in the last few years around class and the lack of access people from satellite areas have to the discerning tastes of the "underground scene." Do you think it's our job as dance music publications or artists to work to bring people in, rather than exclude them?

If there's something I've always hated it's the "in-crowd." The in-crowd are fucking arseholes. I've been going to parties for 30 years, which is mad I'm not even that old [laughs]. But I've given the majority of my life over to this thing I've cared about. It's all fine and well for artists and publications to promote this idea of beautiful, edgy, cool diversity. But diversity should include lots of different things. People from scruffy working-class backgrounds are still people who come from something else, and they don't deserve to be othered and be made to feel different. There's become this fashionable consensus of what the underground is and it should be a broader church than that. People who come from areas with less access to what we deem as "culture" or more esoteric ways of living, shouldn't be excluded for representing their background — they should be given space to enter, and grow as little or as much as they want. They should given a space at the table.

It's bugged me for a while; when I started getting big and touring the world, I noticed that my way of being didn't necessarily fit in. Some people got it and loved it, but then I often felt like an unwelcome presence. I'm comfortable enough in myself that I don't care, but I do realise how unwelcoming that becomes for people — they have to code-shift and adapt to the mores of people they want to fit in with, or risk being othered. A lot of dance music and underground culture now is built on networks of privilege that have been allowed to take over. People who come from areas with relative poverty who want to make it as a DJ or put on a party, they've usually only got one chance to do it before they have to go back to working at the chippy or the factory, or the call centre. These networks have come into it, they see it as fun - because it is - but they also see it as lucrative, and they've made a success of it. It's not in an evil Elon Musk-type thing, it's just that they have the means to keep going, and they've defined the norm. Everything I work on now, it's about leaving the door open for other people, who maybe don't feel welcome.

Is this what has driven you to do community-focused projects like workshops and mentoring?

Yeah. I mean, there are a few reasons. The major thing is obviously that I believe in it, I have been through a lot in the last few years and I came out of it wanting to do things that make things nicer and easier for other people. I have also moved back to the North East after a few years, and I know how difficult it can be to get a start here so I'd like to do something to change that because I think it'll make it a nicer place to live. But also, any time anyone comes to me for mentorship, I tell them: "What you need to be is a participant." You need to be part of the whole thing. I spoke to a DJ who is getting quite big and they told me they don't go anywhere, they don't go to clubs and I was like: "What the fuck are you doing if for then?"

But for me, I'm 45 years old in six weeks, and dance music is youth music with other people involved. That doesn't mean there should be an exclusion of others, but it should be led by the young and it needs to be forward-thinking. I can't go clubbing and be a participant as much as I used to. I can still take part in festivals and club nights, now and again I'll have a cheeky night out. But still, I can't do it the way I used to — so this is my way of participating. I can engage with young people, and find out what's going on. I don't want to be inauthentic, like that Steve Buscemi meme of "How do you do, fellow kids?" [laughs]. Clubs need dancers, but if I can't be a dancer as much at least I can throw some of my perspective in.

How do you feel about the label of "soldier of the scene"?

I've never heard that before [laughs]. I mean the term 'round here we'd use is "shit that won't flush." I think if you care about something it's really hard to walk away from it, you find excuses to keep at it. It's not so much a "soldier of the scene" it's more like an addict. Underground clubs are cool, it's that unsafe-ness — it being a little bit edgy, slightly uncomfortable. I can't get enough of it.

Oh totally. There's something about being young and approaching a club and feeling your heart pumping...

That was the buzz! Not knowing what's on the other side of the door. I remember queueing for about two-and-a-half hours to get into fabric about 20 years ago. It was probably the second time I'd ever been in London. That sense of anticipation feels like it's been robbed from us now — even some Berlin clubs are doing video content. I get the need to play by the modern rules, but they've chopped off a huge part of the appeal. Going in with a sense of agency, knowing how people are supposed to dress, knowing what's on the other side; the feeling of going in having expectations and then working out if it lived up to them, versus the feeling of having no expectations and being blown away... there's no comparison.

How are things going at Are You Affiliated/Kings Street Social Club? Were you encouraged by all the interest in the venue when it launched last year?

Yeah, it's nuts. I have to say all these things I've achieved and experienced across the last decade or so, nothing compares to this. When me and my [business] partner Gabriel first put an event on there, it was the first time where I felt like I had to do another one. The crowd was so up for it, so invested and it felt like the old community spirit we used to have. I think the reason we managed to get that is because we set it up in a desert, we didn't go and compete with anything else; from day one we could imbue these utopian club ideals. When done properly, the DJ/promoter is just one element in what you do, the crowds should feel equal ownership over everything. So it feels like I've been proven right, which always feels good.

I got mentioned in The Sunday Times as one of the reasons North Shields is in the top 20 places to invest in, when you see shit like that, it's nuts. I can see the renewed optimism in a town that feels like it's been kicked from pillar to post, so every time I say that this kind of thinking is essential - I'm not just talking out of my arse, I've got evidence on a micro-scale that it works. People have to meet us with the fees, we don't have a lot of money — but if you look at who we had last year: Caribou, Skream, Daniel Avery, maybe it means there are good guys out there.

It becomes a mutually beneficial thing, right? You've created a space that artists want to experience themselves.

There were a lot of clubs in mind when we started it off, mostly Robert Johnson and Panorama Bar. Operating sustainably and economically, but the pay-off is how good it is and being part of something bigger. But opening a Panorama Bar in North Shields isn't authentic to what's here, so while there's a lot in common with these places, it's also nothing like them. It was flattering when Gerd Janson played, he said it reminded him of the old loft parties in New York. I was like "Really?!" But when he explained it, it was more about the ethos of operating in spaces that feel so different. It means the thing he picked up on was the connectivity on the dancefloor.

There has been talk about how large-scale venues should be doing more to help grassroots music – what do you think about this? Would a ticket levy work? Should it come from DJs/artists?

I'm quite a proactive person, I see it as if you see a problem you should try and find a way to fix it. All of last year every story you saw was around club closures, and it was like: "Well ours is opening." I don't think the Are You Affiliated model is the solution, it's more about changing perspectives and showing people how good clubs are — engaging people in the culture. I'm not saying everybody has to come in and intellectualise it, but there needs to be a trend in people understanding the value of underground spaces. I think the best way to do that is by creating more opportunities for people to connect with it.

What do you think makes crowds in the North East so unique?

I'm too biased, but my dad had this theory that because it's more isolated than other industrial centres — we either built things and they took them away or we dug them out of the ground and they took them away. So there are strong communities all across the North, but in the North East we don't think as outwardly — so we always had these incredible parties, but we weren't shouting about them. If you look at these people who've come out of the North East in recent years, they are musically different to me, but Ben Helmsley, Patrick Topping, Schak — they represent what's possible.

Young working-class lads who have stayed true to themselves.

Exactly! It's nice that it's these people from where I'm from. I know how hard it is to get out there from here, fair fucks to them you know what I mean. They've achieved something monumental.

Read this next: How The Cost Of Living Crisis Is Impacting DJs And Producers

How was it to move back to the North East from Mexico?

I'd never really appreciated the changes that had happened in the decade since I'd left. You can't appreciate it until you've lived somewhere else I don't think. Now, there's nowhere else in the world that I'd even consider living. When my daughter came over from Mexico, she started in the first year of high school - so it wasn't as much of a problem for her, you know everyone is coming and making new friends. It's a big reshuffle. That's how it felt for me moving here during the pandemic too, it felt like everyone was starting from scratch. That's when I started getting heavily involved in local things instead.

Do you think you prepare differently to play to local crowds?

Yes and no. Maybe when I was playing different gigs touring, a festival stage or a big club - taking hype bookings - I would have this small section of tunes, you go for the safety thing. Shut up and play the bangers. But with King Street, I can go for a broader selection — I can do what I want. The other places where I feel like I can do that are either all-night parties or Panorama Bar. Being choosy has helped though, I can go and play the places I like. I know it's a luxury that I can do that, but fuck it I have got the luxury so it would be wrong not to.

You have spoken pretty openly about dealing with ADHD while also maintaining a full-on schedule — how is it to juggle all of these different projects?

I think I've found myself in a necessary position where I have to. I'm one of those ADHD people who are driven by a motor, so I've recognised the positive ways I can drive all this energy into something useful.

Do you think the current landscape adds pressure to compete/encourages artists/DJs to take on a lot?

I think there's a lack of original thought, I don't think it's pressure necessarily. Do you remember the TV show Room 101? If there was one term I could throw into there it would be multi-disciplinary artist. You're posting about the food you've made and DJing? Wow. You have a digital camera so you're also a photographer? People do a load of stuff. I hate buzzwords. Any artist with any weight behind them now, it feels like they have to have a manager, not against that whatsoever – but what it leads to is all this kind of stuff, you have to have a capsule collection, you have to have a charting record. I'm sure it adds a lot of pressure because it just feels like a business, but also... that can't be fun.

How has your work as an artist/label head changed in the last few years? Do you think vinyl issues/changes to social media – the instantaneousness of everything has impacted how you work?

It's not changed how I work, it's changed how successful it is [laughs]. When I first started Man Power about 10 years ago, I could put out releases and I could release on labels that were big and then have a breather. Now you have Spotify which has led people to think music is free, and social media which has reduced music to content — so now when I make a record, it's an expression of a feeling or my taste. What has changed is the application of what I make. It either exists as a piece of content posted on social media for a day or may over time become something a small group of people spread in places all over the world fall in love with. That makes it worth it of course, but releasing isn't the product — it's the driver to other things.

What's coming up next for you?

Well, I've made a New Year's resolution to have strict studio time, I want to release a full-length album this year and keep on making music — but again, it's because I want to make them. I want to be connecting with people who connect and care about things that I care about, so I think we're going to do an Are You Affiliated thing in Ibiza. No shade on Ibiza, but I want to experiment and see what happens if we get artists in to play longer sets, a bit more of a community ethos. There are people who would really enjoy that. It would be great to also take the King Street model, and do a tour of social clubs in the UK — give people a toolkit, help get people through the door and see how it works. Find the foundations for your church and build from there.

Can you tell us about your mix?

I did a couple of big mixes last year where I presented a pretty broad picture of all the dance music I love, and I also have a Rinse FM residency where I focus on brand-new music, so I wanted to make this mix feel special and different to all of those. I decided I'd try to make it as representative as possible of how I've been playing recently, so to do that I've picked a bunch of tracks exclusively from the music my USB tells me that I played at a gig at Panorama Bar a few weeks ago. I reckon that's the best way to give an honest snapshot of stuff I play — it's just short of providing a live recording from a club.

The mix was recorded in January and features a Leftfield song with the lyrics 'Burn Hollywood Burn', I've agonised these last weeks about whether I should re-record the mix in light of the recent fires in California and in case anybody mistakenly thought I was being either insensitive or provocative. I've opted to leave the mix as is, not least because I have amazing memories of playing that exact track at a Warehouse rave in Downtown LA last autumn, where it was arguably the track that landed the most with the LA crowd. I have deep connections with LA and many dear friends in the scene over there which is why I'll also be donating the label share of profits from the final two releases on Me Me Me to The California Community Foundation’s Wildfire Relief Fund.

Check out Me Me Me on Bandcamp

Megan Townsend is Mixmag's Deputy Editor, follow her on Twitter

Tracklist:
Star Turn on 45 Pints 'Are You Affiliated'
Diz 'feel2it'
MD X-Spress 'God Made Me Phunky'
Neon Lights 'House of Funk'
Oliver Dollar ft. Jason Hughes 'Crusader'
Man Power 'Maybe Even Never'
John Cravache 'Les Elastomeres'
Thrilogy 'Heaven' (K98 remix)
Gwen Stefani 'Holdback Girl' (Radioslave edit)
KiNK & Neville Watson 'Inside Out'
Wallace 'The Cynical Gringo'
Vitalic 'Poison Lips'
Leftfield and Lydon 'Open Up'
Pet Shop Boys 'Left To My Own Devices'