If you spent any time in East London record shops in early 2003, you may have come across blank CDs with a flyer in the case for a party called Burnt Progress. Unlike most DJs at the time, the party's founder, Tony Nwachukwu, turned up to The Embassy Bar in Islington with just two CDs. This is because Burnt Progress wasn't like other club nights, instead inviting bedroom producers to bring their unfinished tracks for Nwachukwu to play. Before the party started, people added their CDs to a growing stack by the decks.

"I didn't know what I was doing, but I had this idea and I wanted to make it happen," Nwachukwu told me on a video call. "I'd gone through some personal trauma in the music industry, so I wanted to create an environment that had nothing to do with the industry and everything to do with experimentation, risk taking and pushing the boundaries of sound. So many things made sense that first session. Why it should exist, the power of sharing music and the democratisation of progress."

Burnt Progress soon became CDR, AKA Create. Define. Release. Nwachukwu took the innovative party concept to Shoreditch club Bridge & Tunnel, before finding a more permanent home at nearby Plastic People. At a time when the legendary basement spot was the epicentre of so much in UK dance music, many budding artists were figuring out their sound while attending CDR, such as Floating Points and Daisuke Tanabe.

"Every so often there'd be this energy in the room where everyone stopped and looked at each other to say, 'this is a banger,'" Nwachukwu said.

It's now 20 years since the first CDR party, and Nwachukwu's work has expanded to include a live interview series, two compilations and CDR sessions in places like Berlin, Pittsburgh and Bulgaria. As countless club nights, concepts and technologies have come and gone over the years, CDR has remained.

"We've focused on building community and expanding by word of mouth," he explained. "Over the years we've developed a way to market what we do without it ever being preachy or a hard sell. I've been able to see artists grow and evolve, not just as artists but as human beings, in terms of what they have to offer the world. It's a real blessing."

Ahead of CDR's 20th birthday party at Brixton club Loki on January 27th, we spoke with Nwachukwu and two artists—SBTRKT, who found his sound on the CDR dance floor in the early years, and up-and-comer Lu.Re, who's been picking up production techniques at more recent sessions—about CDR's history and impact.

Tony Nwachukwu

How would you describe CDR to someone who's new to the community?

CDR is an organisation and music community set up to empower people, to find kinship and to find solidarity in their quest for understanding and appreciating electronic music rooted in Black music.

There's been many different arms to CDR over the years. Can you explain the different aspects of everything you do?

CDR began in 2003 as a club night: The Night of Ideas and Tracks in the Making. The premise was to create a space for artists to share what they were working on and for people who like electronic music to be privy to the development processes. I was interested in creating a night for developing music, rather than music that was already finished.

The next stage was to find somewhere for people to talk about it, so I started CDR Knowledge, which is, simply, producers talking me through their project files in a live interview. As an artist myself, I ask questions that everyone wants to know: How did you make your drums? How did you mix a master? What was your sound design? What effects did you use? I wanted to bring the studio to an audience. One of the first ones we did was with Floating Points, Simbad and Bullion. We hosted it at Rivington Place opposite Plastic People, it was brilliant.

I then saw an opportunity to merge sharing knowledge with sharing music so two events became one: Open CDR and Open Knowledge. That format really came to the fore when we moved from Plastic People to Dance Tunnel and when we hosted CDR in Berlin for a while.

Something that had begun as a club night, and as a reaction to some of the negative experiences I'd had in the industry previously, ended up becoming something much bigger. I wondered how to build an organisation around a community and what that would look like. We were able to start working with music tech brands on projects, working with young people at schools or at festivals. I don’t like to call it teaching because we're all learning, so I call it sharing knowledge.

What was the format of the first CDR parties?

At the time, the idea of burning CDs was new and fresh. You could bring along a physical thing containing music you'd just made at home and have it played in an institution. The only thing I had going for me was that I had a network of people who enjoyed similar music. If I told my friends who told their friends and so on, I knew what the atmosphere of the music would be, given what we were into. The first few years were so interesting because it was this room of music that represented the psychology of the people in my life.

At CDR, the mood is completely dictated by the music submitted on the night, so curating that music as a legitimate DJ set was really fucking scary. I had to develop a technique to get through a stack of 50 or more CDs really quickly at the beginning, skimming through them as I played the first track. While one was playing, I would start sorting them into moods and textures.

So you wouldn't listen to them before?

No, on the night, in real time. When the dance floor's hearing it, I'm hearing it. CDR has always been understated so this is something people don't necessarily know, but looking back, that Open CDR thing was really stressful.

There was something really human about being handed a CD to play. Nowadays we have options, people can upload to our server and we download it as an MP3. And that has value—it's convenient, for one. But there's something really moving about the physical exchange. I see their eyes and if they're new, they're shy, telling me "I'm not sure about the snare" for example, and I'll reassure them. And then after a few months, they become more confident.

It was a very specific time in London, when people were making music especially for a sound system or club, particularly Plastic People. CDR tied into that period.

Absolutely. It was a time when people were experimenting with hybrid forms of electronic music and CDR was a really good melting pot for those sounds. Everyone had permission to try things out. I always liked the idea that someone would come to CDR with a solid idea of the music they wanted to make, and they'd end up making something completely different after a few months because they were so inspired by what they were hearing from the people around them.

Did you find you'd have the same crew coming down each month?

Yes, and it was beautiful to see. We grew to know what to expect when the likes of Floating Points or Daisuke Tanabe came down. Of course there'd be curveballs, but I got to know the character of their music making. Then people were quietly one-upping themselves. Even though it wasn't ever a competition—it was about this democratic opportunity for everyone to appreciate everyone's progress—but I know for a fact it accelerated a lot of people's technique development.

The confidence CDR must give artists—especially when they're starting out and figuring out ideas—to be able to have that space, to hear their music on a proper sound system and get feedback from everyone else in the room. That's special.

It was really important for CDR to be a movement. I've tried my best to make it about the community. And let CDR be the thing that people talk about, rather than Tony Nwachukwu. Of course I set it up, but to me CDR wouldn't be what it is without the people who come down, share and who also see the value in being around like-minded people.

How would you describe the CDR community?

The CDR community are open, curious human beings who are passionate about using digital music as a tool of self-expression.

What would you like other community-focused platforms to take away from what you do?

Keep it going. Be responsive. When you're running an organisation that isn't about profit, keeping going and working out how to do that with money is important. But the driver for me has been moving people forward, in ways that I've mentioned, and working out how to do that. There was a time I was close to giving up. But instead, what I did was I contracted everything. I ended up doing sessions on my own for a while, so I think what people can learn first and foremost is to remind yourself why you do what you do and deliver it by hook or by crook. Sometimes that will mean you're doing it bare bones, but your mission is adaptable. And then the other thing is to be open to giving people potential to grow with you. There are some amazing passionate people out there in the world who would relish the opportunity to thrive within an organisation that has an ethos they resonate with.

What can we expect from the 20th birthday?

We're taking it back to the grassroots. CDR started at The Embassy Bar, which had a capacity of 100, maybe less, so we wanted to celebrate intimacy and connectedness in a way reminiscent of the early days. That's why we chose Loki in Brixton, which has a great sound system. The lineup represents the kind of human beings that have come to CDR over the years. From people who were there at the beginning like Dobie, to producers who have gone on to set up their own thing, like James Rudie and EVM128. And then there's Lu.Re, someone who's more recently come through, and MarshmeLLo, who's been part of the CDR family for a long time. All the DJs represent key aspects of CDRs growth and development over time. Different people at different stages of their career, all centred around the development of electronic music with its roots in Black music.

SBTRKT

When did your interactions with CDR begin?

When I was around 18 I used to go to a night called Blacktronica at The ICA, which was run by Tony, D'Afro and this other kid, Tic, who was about 16 at the time. I was blown away by the community aspect of this party they ran in the lobby. It was my first introduction into a new realm of electronic music, as up until that point I'd only really been into UK garage, drum & bass and jungle.

So I heard about CDR through that and wanted to see what it was about. I went to one of the first events at Bridge & Tunnel. It was so interesting. I didn't grow up in a place where people were into electronic music, so when I first moved to London, to try and find my way into the space of making music, I found it to be quite closed off. There were a lot of gatekeepers at the time, so having this concept where you could just come down and play your music in a club was surprising. When CDR moved to Plastic People, that club was the meeting point for pretty much anyone from any genre at that point of time.

It felt like a community without everyone knowing each other and it was so different to the restrictive environment I'd found in London so far, including while working at a record store in Soho. Being able to go to CDR every month and have my music played in the space that everyone wanted their music played in, to challenge myself, it became a vehicle for me to become a better producer. Also, there was no hierarchy. Tony created this democratic environment where all the music got played and in no order.

After a while you'd start to notice the names coming up on the screen and the different sounds and strands of what people were doing. I remember Daisuke Tanabe used to come down and his tunes would always stick out in my mind because he had such a distinctive palette. Then people like Simbad and Floating Points would be there, before they really started releasing. I also met Sinden at CDR, who ended up being the first person to book a SBTRKT DJ set, at Room One in fabric.

Do you think CDR helped bring SBTRKT to life?

Definitely. Sometimes artists dream of making a certain sound but don't yet know how to create it. CDR gave me the ability to work that out in a way that was public, but didn't feel like I had to showcase it in a way where I was being judged. Coming into the London scene as an outsider, it took me a lot longer to find my footing, to understand the tools I needed and work out what kind of artist I wanted to become. CDR helped me work out, through all these experiments, what my own personal sound is. That's what SBTRKT is, the result of spinning out all kinds of iterations before honing in on the one that felt right.

The other thing is that Plastic People's sound system flattered pretty much all music. It was so well balanced, so it felt great hearing anything on that system.

You used the word "democratic," which is a word Tony used too. It's funny how he had to DJ without knowing any of the music.

It was hilarious, really. You know when you go to the airport and you have to fill out a visa form? It was like that, but with your CDR card. Everyone would walk in with a blank CD, and you'd write your artist name and track title on the card and add yours to the stack. A moment that really sticks in my mind is that Tony would always play a few minutes of his own music to mark the beginning of the Open CDR session. It was a long, ethereal pad sound with no drums. While it was playing, everyone would move from the bar and huddle on the dance floor, waiting.

One of the things that always stuck out for me was how down to earth everything about CDR was. The electronic scene that was borrowing from jazz, hip-hop and soul, the frontier experimental stuff at the time, sometimes had an aloofness to it–people thinking they were better than each other. I now know that those people will always exist in music, but CDR felt like the antithesis of that. I always felt welcome and I think what Tony built was very necessary. It opened a lot of doors for a lot of artists, empowering them to be able to exist in these spaces.

Is there anything else that you think made CDR stand out from what else was happening at the time?

Back then the producer world could be very nerdy and male oriented, but CDR felt diverse. That was one of the things that attracted me to it. The other thing is that, by default, most producers are pretty introverted. The inherent idea of CDR, being able to showcase your music without having to be this performative person, really resonated with me. It was a home for introverts.

Lu.Re

How did you first come across CDR and what has your involvement been since?

I first started going about a year ago. At the time I was making my debut EP, Ruminate, writing and producing at home. CDR was my first step outside of that comfort zone. I'd wanted to go for a while, my first session was when Roska was being interviewed and I've been to a few since then.

I love a lot about it. Firstly, learning about how artists make their music and hearing them go deep into how the tracks are made, really digging into individual parts of the track. Tony's hosted all of the sessions I've been to and for me, he asks the kind of questions that you've always wanted to know the answer to, like what processing the artist's using, what instruments they use, what kind of quantizing groove they might use. It can get quite nerdy, which I love.

Then there's the other side to it, which is hearing your tracks on the system. When I was working on my EP, I wanted to hear it on a decent system, share it with people and get feedback. CDR is where I got my first spin back. The community seems to be mainly music makers, so you can get feedback from the people attending as well as the people who run it. Then I've also learned a lot about how to release music and about promo. It's a very open community of people who are passionate about music and all genres are welcome. It's a really warm and non-judgemental place to share your work.

Has CDR helped your creative process and production techniques?

I've definitely applied techniques that we've spoken about at the session, or downloaded plugins that have been mentioned. When I was working on one of the tracks from my EP, someone from the CDR team told me that the bass seemed quite static to them and suggested adding an LFO. So I gave that a go and that ended up staying on the final version of the track. I've definitely taken all my feedback on board and I think my production is better for it.

From the sessions I've been to, Footshooter has played my tunes and I've sent music back and forth with Roska. Just before Christmas, we actually got in the studio together and now we're going to release some music. It feels like it's gone full circle. CDR has given me confidence, especially with Ruminate, it allowed me to really think carefully about my release plan and gave me the boost to push it out. And it's paid off! I've had plays on BBC Radio 1 and 1Xtra.

What does CDR offer that other community-focused projects and organisations don't? What makes it unique?

Probably that you're getting to hear really established artists tell their music-making secrets. The artists are top-tier, which shows the reputation CDR has built for itself over the years.

What is one key takeaway from your time at CDR?

Honestly, there are so many production tweaks I've made. But I've started using Massive to make my bass patches after a recommendation at CDR and it's been a game changer.

Is there anything else you'd like to share about the work CDR do?

It's so good that it's been running all this time. It takes a lot to keep organisations like CDR going and it's super important. I'd also like to say a big thank you to CDR for being so welcoming and supportive, and to thank all the artists for speaking so openly about their process. If anybody is thinking about going then they absolutely should—it's a safe space to share your works in progress.

CDR's 20th birthday party is on Friday, January 27th, at Brixton club Loki. Visit the event listing for more details.

Tony Nwachukwu is a director on RA's governance board.