- Even if you've never been to one of Wiley's seminal Eskimo Dance events, you'll almost certainly have heard them referenced in a grime lyric. The party ran from 2002 to 2005, returning in 2012 with semi-regular nights across the UK. A raw, unadulterated breeding ground where MCs would battle for reloads and the respect of their peers, its influence on the scene is immeasurable, helping forge the careers of Dizzee Rascal, Tinchy Stryder, Skepta and countless others.
Fast forward to 2017 and things have changed. On April 8th, Wembley's 12,500-capacity arena hosted the first standalone Eskimo Dance in five years, with 14 MCs and 3 DJs crammed into five hours. It was a professional operation, complete with early running times (doors were at 6 PM) and a 16-plus door policy. Would the boisterous energy of those original events remain intact?
As soon as I got inside it was clear that the event's appeal had been overestimated—the standing area was half full and the seating was barely populated. It hardly mattered, though, thanks to the crowd's consistently high energy levels. Multiple mosh-pits perpetually swelled. President T performed "House & Pop" to much applause and Solo 45's "Feed Em To the Lions" got a huge reaction. When P-Money came out and delivered "10/10" and "Slang Like This," the crowd erupted—"Eskimo, who's in charge?" he shouted. Devlin, unfortunately, was unable to build on this, and the crowd looked on particularly bemused as he rapped over a bizarre edit of The Jimi Hendrix Experience's "All Along The Watchtower."
By this point a crowd had gathered onstage (I saw Wiley and Elijah Quashie, AKA The Chicken Connoisseur, deep in conversation) and eventually the music had to be cut so they could clear it. This became a recurring theme—as soon as the stage was emptied, the swarm would rebuild again. As much as this interrupted the flow of the evening, it was somehow reminiscent of the early days, when battling MCs were only visible above a sea of nodding heads.
Once things calmed down a bit, Stefflon Don jumped on, accompanied by four or five dancers in matching outfits, and whizzed through "Real Ting" and "16 Shots." For "16 Shots," a song with the lyric "Diss my mother then your skin start bleed," she brought out her mum. Her performance was slick and strong, though it didn't get the response it deserved. With time running out, Chip dropped "Can't Run Out Of Bars" and Ghetts, receiving arguably the loudest reaction of the night, shut down the arena with "One Take." As staff tried, with little success, to clear the stage again, Wiley burst through with "Can't Go Wrong," but his entrance was muted by the surrounding mayhem and the increasingly fatigued crowd. Suddenly, Jammer appeared out of nowhere, earning himself a reload as soon as he chanted "It's the Merkle Man!"
Wembley was proof that though grime is a different beast these days, Eskimo Dance has lost none of what made it so vital. After closing bars from Scratchy, Flowdan and a handful of others, thousands of fans spilled out into the warm April night wearing broad, glowing smiles.
Photo credit /
Elliot Jones