Interview
Interview
Stage Times: Skindred
From playing a Sicilian bordello to becoming Download's unofficial house band, Skindred frontman Benji Webbe walks us through his most memorable performances
From a council estate in Newport to some of the UK’s biggest stages, Skindred’s journey has been nothing short of extraordinary. For more than two decades, the Welsh ragga-metal legends have fused heavy riffs with reggae grooves to become one of the country’s best-loved musical exports, making a name for themselves with their explosive live shows.
Now, a quarter of a century since its members first shared a stage, as frontman Benji Webbe reflects, it still feels like the beginning of his band.
“It’s such a blessing, man,” he reflects.
“I grew up a kid on a council estate… I don’t take any of this for granted. We’ve done the battle, we’ve done the work, but I still see this as just the start of Skindred. We’re still pushing forward, still boldly going where no band’s gone before.”
That hunger is clear in everything they do. After landing their first UK Top Ten album with 2023’s Smile and playing their biggest ever headline show at Wembley Arena, Skindred are gearing up for a different kind of adventure. Taking their carnival of chaos far beyond the usual big city stops this autumn, their upcoming run of shows has been dubbed The Detour, bringing their iconic live show to UK towns often swerved by touring bands.
“I think getting a ticket to see Skindred is the eighth wonder of the world,” Webbe grins.
“We’re more relevant now than we’ve ever been because the world needs that message of unity, tolerance and togetherness. I love going to venues that don’t normally have rock bands, and I know that we’ll get the people moving. That’s what Skindred is all about.”
Showing no signs of slowing down, as they prepare to take The Detour across the UK this autumn, we caught up with Benji to look back on some of the shows that shaped their career – from living room gigs in Florence to Download Festival homecomings.
The gig that made you want to play music
My brother was in a band when I was around 11 or 12 years old. One day, he invited me to come and watch them play. I got in the van with the guys, and we drove up from Newport to Carmarthenshire. When we got there, there were people helping with their equipment and people giving them weed. There were women everywhere, and they were all drinking booze. I was looking at my brother and his friends thinking, ‘I know these guys!’. They were normal guys from the council estate, why were they getting treated in such a manner?! After the show, I had this thing around my neck called a laminate. I didn’t know what it was, but it had a special force to get me backstage. It was incredible. I went to the dressing room, and the guys were getting changed. They were laughing, joking, and having a good time drinking whilst people waited outside to talk to them. Next door, the manager was in the other room. I walked past that room, and I saw a guy counting money for the band. They came from where I come from, they were getting treated like this, and they were getting money for it… That’s when I know that this was what I wanted to do with my life.
The first
We played in a pub in Newport called Le Pub. It was great, and a couple of other bands from Wales were there. Before Skindred, I was in a band called Dub War, so people were expecting great things from this new project. It was 22 October in the year 2000, and that show was special. There was something that made me go, ‘This is what I should be doing’.
Has that feeling stuck with you ever since?
People ask me all the time, ‘What would you be doing if you weren’t doing this?’ Honestly, I wouldn’t be doing anything else. This is what I do. It is a calling and a passion. If you asked me what you need to stay in a band, I’d tell you that it’s stupidity, but that stupidity is outweighed by passion. Whatever you do in life, whether it’s play in a band or deliver milk, you’ve got to have a passion about it. Skindred has got that.
The smallest
We played in someone’s front room in Florence, Italy. We had played one show, and they asked if we’d like to play another. We were already there, so why not? They paid us good money, so we thought it would be a real show, but we ended up in someone’s living room. We ended up playing whilst stood on the settees so that people could see. It doesn’t matter whether it’s Wembley Arena with 10,000 people screaming, or it’s a pub in Dartford with one blind man and the bar staff… I’m giving it all I’ve got.
Those intimate shows are special too because you can connect with everyone in the room…
Every show is different, and every show is special. When we play to 15 people in the audience, I go back to when I was a kid in my sister’s bedroom singing Tina Turner into a hairbrush in front of the mirror. I was the only one there back then, and I still loved it. There’s no such thing as a bad show, it’s all just a rehearsal for the next one.
The biggest
People always think I’m lying when I tell them this, but it was a show for 750,000 people in the woods on the border of Poland and Germany. The first time we played there it was called Polish Woodstock, and the second time it was called Pol’and’Rock. Skindred played that festival, and after us was Bob Marley’s son, Stephen Marley. That was so special for us, and it was all for charity too.
The weirdest
We played a bordello in Sicily. When we got there, there was a little guy who looked like Captain Birdseye, and there was a matron who took care of the girls. It was all so strange. Everyone smoked cigarettes and cigars whilst watching us, and when you finished a song, it was like a golf clap. One thing I particularly remember from that show is that the guy running the PA didn’t know why the band wasn’t coming out of the speakers. He sat there for like 20 minutes, and then he realised that he didn’t turn it on. The pizza was incredible though. It was so thin, it was like eating a pizza made out of Skips.
The worst
We’ve actually just come back from the Philippines, and the audience was very quiet. I was beating myself up thinking that they hated us, but maybe they didn’t. Skindred is all about throwing your hands in the air and bouncing around, but it’s a very Catholic country, and they’re quite reserved. After the show, hundreds of people were coming up and saying how much they enjoyed it, but I thought we went down like a lead balloon. It was just a different kind of Skindred show. After us, one of the biggest bands in the Philippines played and the audience reacted in the exact same way. I definitely took comfort in that!
Does it surprise you to see how different crowd reactions are around the world?
Yes, especially when you see how polite the Japanese crowds are. When you do an acoustic track, they respect you and stay quiet. In the UK, the more northern you go, the less they give a f*ck about that. The crowd gets louder the higher up you go, just having conversations between them whilst you’re giving it all you’ve got. The Japanese are silent, even if you’re in a room with 10,000 people. The Northerners could learn a thing or two!
The best
We have played some crackers, but every time we play Download Festival feels like a homecoming. Someone told me that we’re the band who have played that festival the most, so we’re basically the house band by this point. One time we opened up the stage on the Wednesday, and I wasn’t expecting to see anybody there. Honestly though, if we didn’t play in front of 80,000 people there, we didn’t play. I couldn’t believe it. It goes to show that people are there for the music and the bands, which is rare for a festival. If you go to some festivals they don’t give a shit who’s on the stage! At Download, there’s something special in the air. It’s just people coming together to support live music, and that’s what it’s about.
Photo credit: Mike Lewis Photography / Getty
