Cervo Interview: Head for the hills

Since 2011, Banana Hill has slowly but confidently made a stake as one of the most original and welcoming club nights in the North, perhaps even across the UK.

Originally beginning as a blog, their music policy spans afrobeat to soul, kwaito to kuduro, house to garage and techno to calypso. Dozens of DJs and producers have appeared at the night, including scene luminaries and open minded counterparts such as Gilles Peterson, Optimo, Thris Thian, Tama Sumo and Marcellus Pittman, and esoteric live acts including Golden Teacher, SU Samba Band and General Ludd.

Maintaining this delicate musical high wire act are resident selectors Cervo and JVC, alongside creative partner Chelsea Teesdale. John Thorp caught up with Cervo (AKA, Chris Knight) to talk about building an audience, the importance of diversity in the current dance music landscape, and his upcoming solo productions - a premiere of which you can hear on John’s recent Radar Radio show below.

First thing’s first; you explain the origin of the name Banana Hill?

Not a particularly interesting story! It’s the invention of Jack. It came from a hill near his house in Chorlton. In my mind, I thought of it as this big hill where he used to go with his mates, whereas in reality, it’s a sort of small grass verge. I don’t know why it’s called ‘Banana Hill’.

Yourself and Jack (JVC) are great DJs, and what I like about Banana Hill is that you could carry it yourself now, rather than just open and close it. You are proper residents in the classic sense. What works between the two of you, and where do you meet in the middle so to speak?

Thanks for the kind words! We have so much fun playing together. The music we found common ground in at uni was classic hip hop, but then I also liked post punk and garage rock. I was in a band called Cult Image. It sounds like an eighties new wave thing, yeah, and that’s pretty much what it was. We have a record out actually, it’s on Bandcamp.

Was that self released?

We put money in with a guy in Newcastle called Kristian Atkinson. He put it out with another band, and it didn’t really sell very well, so I have a load of them in my room at home.

Does your mum ever give them away to people?

I don’t think she likes it that much. It’s not even a charity case anymore. But we disbanded when we all went to different unis, and my taste changed. But yeah, I came from post punk and sort of ‘disco-not-disco’ and Jack came more from grime and hip hop. Meeting in the middle, he introduced me to all that.

The stuff we like now came later. We did a Congolese night, a fundraiser. And I only knew a little about African music, but we put something together. You know when you’re on Youtube and you find one song, then another? We got heavily into afro-electronic music - kuduro, afrohouse etc. Banana Hill wasn’t meant to be about anything in particular, but it started to take its current form at that point.

Well, as somebody who knows a little about African music, and nothing compared to you, it seems like such a broad church. Just that term ‘African music’...

I know, it’s hard when you’re trying to describe one particular type of example of African music you like, how do you present it to someone? It's such a huge continent of different styles and influence, it seems an odd concept to condense it down to one word. And that’s the problem with terms like ‘world music’. It really grates on me when people use terms like ‘tribal’, and write about African-influenced music in a certain way.

You mean when it’s written in a dated, western centric way? Are you wary of presenting things as ‘exotic’ when you’re putting the night together?

I think it's important not to be ignorant. We had a problem with some of our artwork and imagery that was flagged up to us, that was fair enough... you have to be wary and take a more nuanced approach. The point of the whole night is to open people's minds and share the music that we love, whilst being respectful of where that music comes from.

You’ve scaled down a little from your Sheffield parties, where you’d have three rooms. You’d have a new, international act in one room, then something more traditionally rooted in house and techno in another, and also more experimental acts. I feel like you’ve gained an audience who are up for anything. As a promoter, are you always trying to push the boundaries?

Sure, I think in the case of both us, it’s more stepped in indecision than anything! We want to book this person, then another, and to pull that all together would be really cool. I’d love to work on a festival for example.

I’d be very much interested in a Banana Hill Festival, especially if it was on that small grassy verge.

Limited twenty capacity?

That’s what people like now, boutique festivals. Especially if you can do it in Chorlton, then you’ve really got a cornered market. Anyway, one thing I dig about Banana Hill, and your audience, is people actually dance there. It’s not a sort of student gurnfest, you know?

Sheffield as a place, really played into that. There’s no sense of pretense that I’ve noticed in other places. People were very receptive from the start, which was encouraging. The crowds there are into everything, from house and techno to jungle and dub, and we sort of nestled in there.

You’ve had a wide range of guests from Gilles Peterson to Simian Mobile Disco, and it’s all worked, with you alongside them.

Yeah, absolutely. I’ve never stood and watched a set and thought, “I wish we’d never booked this”, and that’s saying something, because we’ve had you play. But growing the party in Sheffield helped us not be afraid to do that, and then do other things elsewhere.

As I mentioned, the early nights at Night Kitchen were massively ambitious, whereas now you seem to have scaled back to something regular at The Harley, and at Manchester’s Soup Kitchen. Smaller and sweatier. Why is that?

We felt like the time was right. We had a few that didn’t go amazingly last year, so it was good to scale back and do what we set out to do, which was find new artists and bring them over. I got a bit sick of having to hassle agents and DJ fees are increasing at a ridiculous rate. 

You’ve really brought a lot of interesting people ahead of the curve, like the Principe guys such as DJ Marfox. Sometimes it feels like those artists just exist in a bubble of hype on the internet. It must be great for you, and for them, to play host to them in real time.

Yeah, and I think it’s amazing how you can hear all this music via the internet. For example Goon Club All Stars, releasing gqom music from Durban, and then that getting picked up in the UK and selling really well.

It’s been amazing to get those people over, to get involved. To hang out with them on their first visit to the UK, it’s really cool. I mean, I don’t want to be just booking Gilles Peterson all the time, you know? I love him, and he’s an amazing DJ, and it works, but we're trying to push the boundaries a little bit.

I think, not to pick up on one specific figure, but your scene and the open mindedness of a large portion of young clubbers owes a lot to Gilles Peterson. He’s always able to still surprise, in a club or on radio.

Oh yeah, for sure, he’s still such a big inspiration for us.

And like Gilles, you’ve also had a radio presence, having hosted a show on KMAH (above) since it’s origins a year or so ago.

Yeah, well doing KMAH has been really great as we haven’t done radio since the first year of university. And you know what it’s like when you start, and you’re just talking utter shit at first, so it’s been great to develop that confidence. And now, me and Contours, we’re doing a show for Reform Radio, and they’re doing a really great thing too.

I think there’s a lot of focus on the London stations, but both KMAH and Reform feel like real community radio. The haphazard elements about the two almost make it feel more legit.

You’re continuing to DJ with Jack, including at festivals like Field Maneuvers, but you’re also forging your own path as a DJ and producer, and have some of your own music set to be released shortly. I remember it was just less than a year ago you were haphazardly making edits, and now you’re releasing a record alongside Seven Davis Jr. How was that process been?

Really difficult. Learning production is like a learning a new instrument again, and even though I’ve always known that was what I wanted to do, that sort of creativity, it felt like nothing was coming together for a while, just lots of loops and experimentation.

With the one that’s getting released, I think I made it a week before Dimensions Festival last year, to have something to play there. I ended up playing it at the festival, and sent it to Seven Davis Jr when he made a Facebook status about putting together a compilation. And it’s so important to have Banana Hill, as that’s how I’ve made those connections.

And how do you see Banana Hill progressing in the future? It’s working amazingly in Manchester, but in some cases, you’ve scaled back, and it’s fantastic to see a promoter retain their dignity and maintain their integrity doing so.

Well, the label side of it is something I want to do. Putting on parties is great, but I want to have something physical. It feels like a weird thing to say, but it’s almost like a legacy that I want to see. I’ve thrown different ideas around with Jack, but the label is something I’m really keen on.

I'm currently working on a South American music project called Picomix alongside our designer Bethany Porteous, where we'll be collecting and releasing music from Chile, Bolivia, Ecuador, Peru and Colombia alongside remixes from a load of producers.

The underground dance scene seems very strong on notions of new sounds, variety and diversity right now, which to me, somewhat undermines the ‘death of British clubbing’ narrative doing the rounds in the media. How does it feel to you having built Banana Hill up with a young crowd these past few years?

I think it’s really cool that diversity has become a big thing now. I think it’s great that festivals get called out for all male line ups, for example. I mean, sometimes, you just book who you want to book, but it’s especially relevant with smaller artists.

The only way you’re going to see more female artists, for example, headlining festivals is when they get booked to fill up two or three hundred capacity clubs. Those kind of clubs and promoters have a real responsibility to diversify. And that’s something we’ve definitely tried to think about a lot more. I think you can’t be too cynical about it; at the end of the day, the music has to be right. But female artists do get overlooked and condescended for sure.

Finally, what’s the weirdest record that you regularly get away with at Banana Hill? What’s a good example of an offbeat anthem?

There’s these Baris K edits of Turkish music, including a super weird, very slow one by Kamuran Akkor we always play. We’ve tried to experiment more with Arabic music, and it’ll be interesting to see how the Habibi Funk stuff goes down.

Check out the upcoming Banana Hill events.

Read more: Banana Hill presents Gilles Peterson at Hidden review