Coded Language
© Isaac Cambridge
Music

Unpicking Multicultural London English, the lingo of the capital's streets

As part of Red Bull Music Festival London, Coded Language explored the way that the English language is spoken in London's estates, neighbourhoods and its popular music.
Written by Jesse Bernard
5 min readPublished on
Far from being fixed in stone, the English language is in a perpetual state of evolution, reshaped every generation by the changing currents of the UK's diverse population. In Coded Language, a panel talk at the British Library as part of Red Bull Music Festival London, journalist Kieran Yates chaired a panel exploring Multicultural London English (MLE), with panelists Wretch 32, poet Bridget Minamore and AM of drill duo Skengdo & AM adding their own unique perspectives.
The conversation, centred on the ways in which the languages spoken at home, on the playground and estates find their way into contemporary music, and gave a rich insight into how slang develops, becoming a part of everyday vernacular. There was a time when Cockney rhyming slang was widely used across London, predominantly east. But the influx of West Indian, Asian and African communities in the early 20th century meant that new dialects began to take shape. Decades later, with the Windrush Generation grandparents themselves, second, third and fourth generation Londoners have formed new languages of their own inspired by the British context and their heritage.
Read on for five of the discussion's main talking points.

1. On "code-switching" as a method of assimilation

For most British people, code-switching – in which a speaker alternates between different languages and dialects, depending on their immediate environment and surroundings – is largely something that isn’t considered in conversations. However, for those whose parents and grandparents weren’t born and raised in the UK, learning to change their accents depending on the environment, such as with friends or at school and work becomes second nature.
Wretch 32 spoke of “recognising my parents changing the texture [of their accents].… when they speak to family members on the phone back home or they speak to each other, they speak with a heavy patois accent. But they’d often change tones according to who they were around or their surroundings." It speaks to one of the many ways in which black and brown communities have had to assimilate into British culture, due to the otherness that is carried within accents.

2. Same family, different dialects

Early on in the discussion, drill rapper AM raised an astute point as to how in one family, multiple dialects and accents are spoken and heard – particularly when it comes to immigrant families. First generation family members will often arrive in Britain with thick accents and depending on class, it’s often found that the children will act as translators when others are unable to understand what’s being said.
For generations born and raised in the UK, the language spoken in the playground will often differ from that spoken at home and it highlights how for a lot of young minorities, fluidity in language comes as second nature. “My grandmother would say that inside the home is Africa and the outside world is England,” AM says. It’s a reminder that for some, multiculturalism isn’t just a city-wide dynamic but one that begins at home.
Wretch 32 speaks on his Jamaican heritage

Wretch 32 speaks on his Jamaican heritage

© Isaac Cambridge

I remember one time being out with my mum and somebody asked me what country I’m from and I said ‘England.’ My mum looked at me and kissed her teeth
Wretch 32

3. It's not about where you're from, it's about where you're coming from

Wretch 32 told a poignant story about his own family’s history and identity. “I remember one time being out with my mum and somebody asked me what country I’m from and I said ‘England.’ My mum looked at me and kissed her teeth – she told me I didn’t know where I’m from. I said that I was born in Edmonton and she said: 'When somebody asks you where you’re from, you say Jamaica.' Now when my children get asked, I tell them that they’re from Jamaica because it’s not about where you are, but where you’re coming from.”

4. How language is "shared"

The playground in a multi-ethnic city such as London is one of the few places where you’ll hear a hybrid of languages being spoken at any one time. While gentrification has given rise to segregation through class, schools are largely exempt from this. Phrases that aren’t of our own languages have found a way to seep into our daily lexicon – such as ‘abeg’ (a West African term meaning 'please') or ‘mashallah’ (an Arabic expression of thanks, literally "this is God's will"). Kieran Yates expressed how we often don’t always think about the significance of those moments when they’re happening, which Bridget Minamore went on to add that “I love it how rappers take words from other languages and create a mashup of cultures… Because in the schools that they go to and the ends that they live in, that’s what they do.”

5. All language is political

AM spoke about how words can be appropriated and misread.“If you use a word a lot and then you begin to hear other people use it, it’s quite endearing," he explained. "At the same time, if they don’t understand the context of the word, they can often assume it’s violent or negative.”
The use of certain language has previously put AM in the crosshairs of the government and police, which has led to the censoring of Skengo & AM's music. Not only does does this sort of censorship take away the authenticity of the art itself, but it strips away the cultural context from where the music comes from. Because of the moral panic surrounding youth violence and drill, the significance of the language used within in is often overlooked and set aside.
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