Lets set the scene, it’s cold, dark and I are in an increasingly muddy field in Lulworth, Dorset. Heading over to The Box or ‘Hightop’ stage after a day working for Sunday Best Record label I am greeted by 2 of my friends and a very amorous ‘rockstar figure’ who claims he has been here (backstage) since 11 am, (it’s now 10.45pm) reflects our aims for this magic Friday night, to get drunk and get strange/have fun. Rising to fame after featuring in BBC 3’s cutting-edge documentary about the London Pirate radio scene People Just Do Nothing, the Kurupt FM collective of DJs and MCs have become an overnight phenomenon and after a couple of years od coming to Bestival it’s hard to imagine the festival without them.
The roar of the crowd never falters, Kurupt’s tunes are banging, on point, fucking hit your gran amazing (don’t hit your gran obviously, never do that – MC Grindah would agree). So nearly midnight and post-gig the entire 5 strong gang of Chabuddy G, Beats, Decoy, MC Grindah and Steves (the writer and genius behind the success) appear behind us. Showered in selfies, and drunken ‘hugs, touch my face, kiss my knee’ etc we sit down and share some beers/diet cokes. I tell Steves he’s done what Ricky Gervais never could in that successfully combines music and comedy but somehow keep them both high quality and very successful. We discuss their influences, Marx brothers, the offices, parks, and rec, then we proceed to get wrecked.
I ask Grindah if a girl could join Kurupt FM (implying myself as I have recently learned how to DJ) and in his weary, raspy, end of summer/hectic touring schedule voice says “Nah no way. No girls allowed.” Chabuddy chimes in “Yeah no girls allowed” His characters wink and smile comfort my ever-breaking heart from this devastating news. As we had just taken a selfie, (I so rarely do yet he almost encouraged it, and then fatefully it didn’t even work) I know I would be the exception to the rule. Right, Chabuds?
By Catrin Picton