Don Letts Talk

A man who nimbly crosses the great divide between rich and poor, black and white, reggae and punk, DJ, filmmaker and man of letters is Don Letts - without a doubt, a true Grove inamorata. And looking around his Queen's Park flat, it is impossible not to see why. Sitting side by side on his shelves are books on hip-hop, jazz, reggae and punk. A mix of African art and original graffiti by Keith Haring and Futura 2000 bedecks his walls, highlighting a fine collection of vintage ghetto blasters and the odd English teapot. A man whose career has embraced the creative and incurable dichotomy that is the Grove, Letts is nothing less than a legend. Paradise by way of Kensal Green recently devoted a whole night to a Letts DJ retrospective while BBC Radio 2 broadcasted

The Other Notting Hill, an hour-long show celebrating the immense musical legacy the area and Letts has bestowed on the world.

"The Grove has one of the world's great musical and cultural heritages," Letts says, sitting in his den at the end of his garden. "It's an area that is unique. I first moved here in the early Eighties and lived on Bassett Road. One could go on about the gentrification, but that's true of any neighbourhood. We have all tribes here - Spanish, Moroccan, Portuguese, African, rich, poor, black, white - and not in a very big space. One of the area's great attributes is that history: the hoi polloi, intellectual, bohemian rock 'n' rollers hanging out in the Jamaican shebeens back in the day. It's a history of accommodation."

Letts began his career in 1975, kitting out all manner of rocking and rolling Fifties' fashioned, soul-boy style mongers. Together with Jeanette Lee (who went on to helm Rough Trade recordings), Letts managed Acme Attractions, selling electric-blue zoot suits and jukeboxes, while pumping out heavy duty dub reggae (Big Youth, U-Roy, I-Roy) to a crowd of proto punk ingénues. That led Letts to the infamous Roxy, where in 1977 as house DJ, he pushed his particular brand of Jah Sound, influencing a generation and cementing the punk/reggae affiliation. Consequently, using his trusty Super 8 camera, Letts shot the seminal Punk In London. "We were all outsiders and rebels," remembers Letts. "Who else were the punks going to align themselves with but the reggae dudes? We both sloganeered, we both did it homemade, we were both excluded - we were perfect bedfellows."

It was this punk link that pushed Letts into the public eye. He accompanied Johnny Rotten and Richard Branson to Jamaica, propagating the reggae ethic. "Branson picked me because I had the dreads," chuckles Letts. "But to be honest, I had never even been there. Later people did credit me with introducing a lot of people to reggae in England, but a lot of the hipper guys were into it already, like Paul Simonon, Strummer and Lydon. Credit where credit's due, it was The Clash who pushed it as well by taking me out on the road with them as DJ."

It was Letts' legendary association with The Clash that helped further his filmmaking. He filmed the band incessantly as part of his ever-burgeoning punk archive, and then managed another iconic Grove act, The Slits, who often supported The Clash. "Managing wasn't for me," admits Letts. "So as a lot of my friends were onstage and all the instruments were covered, I picked up my camera and shot as much as I could afford to."

Letts soon found himself directing every one of The Clash videos. "We are all very close still," says the filmmaker. "And because of the door they opened I went on to direct Public Image, Black Uhuru, Elvis Costello, Bob Marley and the Pretenders, as well as my own feature Dance Hall Queen, set in Jamaica."

Letts also co-founded Big Audio Dynamite, a band almost as synonymous with the Grove as its members - Letts, Mick Jones of The Clash, Dan Donovan and Gary Stonadge. "Sony is re-releasing the first album, and I listened to it recently to write the sleeve notes," smiles Letts. "It holds up - it doesn't sound like yesterday or today, it still sounds a bit like tomorrow. I'm immensely proud of Big Audio Dynamite as it's something that could have only come out of west London: Jamaican bass lines, New York beats, Mick's English rock 'n' roll guitar and me, 'cause I couldn't play anything, doing all that sampling and dialogue. We didn't sell millions and were once described as 'all cred and no bread'. But we were a signpost of that big multicultural musical mix to come."

In 2000 Letts embarked on a new career path, directing music documentaries - the first of which, The Clash's The Westway to the World, won a 2003 Grammy for the best long-form video. Subsequently Letts produced a long list of essential films including George Clinton: Tales of Dr Funkenstein (2006), Punk: Attitude (2005), Brother From Another Planet: Sun Ra (2005) and The Revolution Will Not Be Televised: Gil Scott Heron (2005). "I've been lucky to have had the chance to make films about artists I admire," Letts says.

The latest project, Carnival!, tells the history of that greatest of W11 institutions, the Notting Hill Carnival. "I started shooting the Carnival in 1975," says Letts, "and have used some great archive footage from 1958 to today, alongside interviews with former newsreader Sir Trevor Macdonald, who had a interesting overview, DJ Norman Jay, Jazzy B, Andrea and Miquita Oliver, Rudolph Walker [Patrick in Eastenders]. Old school, new school - it was a good mix. I'm very pleased with the film."

The year 1959 saw the first ever Carnival, a direct response to the two-week Notting Hill Race riots of 1958 - so eloquently evoked in Colin MacInnes' Absolute Beginners - that saw 140 arrests and local Teddy Boys attack the Caribbean community.

"Carnival started in St. Pancras town hall in January 1959 and was an indoor event, purely soca and calypso," explains Letts. "It was organised by a lady called Claudia Jones - she was an interesting character."

Jones was a black feminist activist, who was born in Trinidad in 1915 and moved to Harlem aged eight. As a card-carrying member of the American Communist Party, Jones was imprisoned four times before being deported from the US in 1955 and finding refuge in London. Notting Hill was a fulcrum of racial anxiety at the time. It was not only home to many West Indians, but also a fascist stronghold, housing both Oswald Mosley's union movement and the headquarters of National Socialist Colin Jordan's White Defense League.

Tensions came to a head on May 17, 1959 when black Antiguan carpenter Kelso Cochrane was stabbed to death, which only strengthened Jones' resolve to unite the community.

"In 1964 the Carnival moved to Notting Hill via the efforts of one Rhaune Laslett," continues Letts. "She wanted to put on a street festival that would unite the fractured community that lived here - not just the black people, but also the Irish, Spanish, Polish, Greeks. There was some conscience there and that is what my movie looks at; the issues spinning off from it and its possibilities."

Jones never saw the full fruits of her and Laslett's labour, dying Christmas Eve in 1964. She is now buried in Highgate cemetery next to Karl Marx, while her commemorative plaque resides in the Tabernacle. "I wanted to look at the history and remind people that it did come out of struggle and conflict, things that are still happening today,"

he asserts. "Immigrants are still getting stick. We've just got two BNP members in European parliament, the Irish are burning out the Romanians - it is still going on. I think that a lot of the ideas behind Carnival are as relevant today as they ever were; once you take your eye off the ball, things start going pear shaped. You even hear brothers complaining today about these 'bloody' Poles stealing their jobs."

As Letts' film ably illustrates, Carnival wasn't a Jamaican concept initially. Because the area was predominantly Trinidadian and Bajan, it had more emphasis on the smaller island culture. Carnival only embraced reggae in the Seventies, as a reflection of a new British-born generation; inner-city dwelling Afro Caribbeans for whom roots and culture's urban pulse was the perfect soundtrack.

"'British-born black' slips off the tongue easily enough now, but in the Seventies we were running around like headless chickens," laughs Letts, who appears on a photograph on the cover of the Super Black Market Clash LP striding towards a vast phalanx of policeman during the Carnival riots of 1976. "We didn't where the f**k we fitted in, but we started identifying with the social and political messages that were coming out of reggae at that time - Police and Thieves, Chant Down Babylon, Money In My Pocket, Perry Henzell's film The Harder They Come - and so the sound systems culturally hijacked the Carnival as we tried to find a way forward."

We retire in Letts' sitting room in front of a quite gorgeous Fifties juke box on which he has installed all manner of seven-inch singles including Stuck In The Middle With You by Stealers Wheel, I Go To Pieces by Patsy Cline and Good Times by Chic. "That's indicative of my weekly radio show," says Letts, pointing to the juke, referring to his late-night radio slot on BBC 6 Music, Culture Clash. "They asked me to do a reggae show but I said, 'No way, it's not the total experience of Don Letts,' so I cross time, space and genres. I play Bob Marley to Patsy Cline - the gloves are off. It is one of the most honest things I've ever done."

Chris Floyd, our photographer, asks Letts to lie on the couch. "No, no, no - not ever," admonishes the Don, his unleashed locks now reaching his knees. Floyd replies: "I'm not trying to mug you mate." "But you're mugging my rep, dude," chides Letts, "Love sexy on the couch - dread version."

Back in his den, Letts waxes lyrical about his beloved Grove. "One of the things that really gets me is the high-street big brand stores on Portobello Road," he groans. "Do we need yet another phone shop on Portobello when there's one at Notting Hill? We might as well be on Oxford Street or 8th Avenue New York or Croydon High Street. Does everywhere have to look the same? I resent that these big chains have priced out individuality and identity. Does a tourist want to stroll down Portobello Road and see that? It's quite simple: Electric - good gentrification; phone shops - bad gentrification.

"Don't get me wrong," he adds quickly. "I don't want it to become all urban and Caribbean - the English should have their sh*t too, like the little tea and pastry shops like Patisserie Valerie (okay, so it's French). I need all tribes represented, which doesn't mean that they should threaten the other. What I learnt from punk rock is that it understands the differences that bring us closer together. I've thrived by moving between different cultures and classes. To this day, I remain open to everything. And if you remain open, London - and especially the Grove - has a lot to offer."

For more, read Letts' autobiography Culture Clash: Dread Meets Punk Rockers Uptown (SAF Publishing, £16.99)

LETTS' TOP 20

Antique stalls, Golborne Road I still love a browse as you never know what you might find.

Circus Antiques, Chamberlayne Road Sells 20th century antiques which are my roots - love it.

Daddy Vigo, All Saints Road Great reggae stop; in fact the only reggae shop left in Notting Hill.

DJs, Harrow Road Great take away Caribbean food.

E+O, Blenheim Crescent When the pockets are happening, I am in here for dinner. The peppered squid is something else.

El Camino, Portobello Road Lovely little place for a Mexican meal.

First Floor, Portobello Road At certain times in the afternoon you catch a light and it's perfect.

Fish stalls, Golborne Road Those Moroccan dudes, big in the area; big things are going on with the Moroccans.

Honest Jon's, Portobello Road Massive respect to Honest Jon's.

Intoxica, Portobello Road I stocked my jukebox up from here.

Lexi Cinema, Chamberlayne Road A great new 100-seater cinema that's supposed to have the best sound system in London. Screens a really interesting selection of films.

Lucky Seven, Westbourne Park Road Still the best diner in the area, if you can get a table.

Mike's Café, Blenheim Crescent When I need a fry-up, I'm there.

Portobello Market, under the Westway You can still find great vintage clothes if that's what you're into.

Rough Trade, Talbot Road It's like my church.

Supra, Chamberlayne Road Especially now it's moved to Chamberlayne Road right next to the bus stop. I've spent more money there on clothes on the last two years than in the last 20 anywhere else.

The Electric, Portobello Road Still a great place to lunch.

The Tabernacle, Powis Square Went through its bad phase where it lost its communal vibe, but is now back on its feet. Has some serious history and is back in ztouch with its roots.

Ukai, Portobello Road Does lovely things with mango and twists trad Japanese cuisine.

Don Letts Talk

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