Charlie Beresford: Keeping Dublin's Bass Alive
- IED
- Jun 17
- 9 min read
Updated: Jun 20
The air in Tengu should have been buzzing with the focused energy of load-in, the promise of a bass-heavy night hanging thick. Instead, the first hurdle of the evening materialized in the distinctly un-rhythmic form of a learner driver’s car stubbornly planted in the loading bay. What should have been a smooth setup quickly devolved into a frustrating dance of phone calls to the council and unanswered pleas to towing services, a stark reminder that the passion for the sound often clashes with the mundane realities of putting on a DIY gig. “You couldn't make it up," Charlie muttered, carefully maneuvering one of his hand-built bass bins as the minutes ticked by.
Amidst this very Dublin brand of chaos, we finally managed to grab a few moments with Charlie, the dedicated heart and hands behind Rubadub. More than just the man navigating logistical nightmares, Charlie is a vital artery in the city's underground sound system scene, a fervent advocate for the culture and the profound, physical experience of music through his painstakingly custom-built PA. Fresh from the recent buzz of two Tengu nights meticulously planned with the ever-energetic Emma Giliand (booker/club manager of Tengu) a direct result of the electric atmosphere of a sound system-focused culture night the previous year, Charlie was ready to share his story, the unwavering passion, the constant perseverance, and the often-uphill battle of keeping the bass bins resonating in a world that doesn't always understand the primal need for that sub-low rumble.
For Charlie, and the dedicated community vibrating alongside Rubadub, the sound system isn't a mere collection of speakers; it's a meticulously conceived and constructed instrument, a conduit for the raw energy of the music that commercially available systems often fail to capture. This dedication springs from a core belief in how genres like the increasingly popular 140 BPM modern dubstep, the intricate rhythms of jungle, and the relentless drive of drum and bass need to be felt, not just heard. "It sounds so much better on sound systems… you lose so much of the visceral impact, the chest-rattling bass, on a regular club system."
From an underground music perspective, achieving great sound isn't about a simple quest for volume; it's about sonic integrity and reproducing the full spectrum of sound with power, especially in the lower frequencies. Charlie's point-source system, a labor of his own hands, exemplifies this philosophy. It features carefully designed scoops for deep, resonant bass and precisely calculated mid-tops for clarity. It's "designed to be very bass heavy," a non-negotiable element for music where the bass isn't decorative, but the very foundation. This commitment to sound quality was the spark that ignited Rubadub a decade ago.
"Rubadub was founded by me and Iarla ten years ago precisely for a lack of good sound systems in venues in Dublin." Marko Matanović, another integral member of the crew, has also been with Rubadub for some time. He's a core presence who not only shares the profound belief in the visceral impact of custom-built sound systems but also plays a vital, hands-on role in the meticulous wiring and physically demanding setup and breakdown of the rig. This DIY spirit, the refusal to accept sonic mediocrity, is the very DNA of sound system culture.
The countless hours poured into researching designs, meticulously sourcing drivers and amplifiers, skillfully constructing cabinets, and painstakingly tuning the system reflect this profound commitment. For Charlie, his Rubadub rig is an extension of his artistic vision, a sonic palette he uses to paint the night with deep, resonating hues. This intensely personal investment forges an unbreakable bond between the operator, the system, and the music, a tangible connection that vibrates through every carefully chosen frequency.
Charlie recalled with a nostalgic grin, a hint of pride in his voice, "We booked you (Energy Collective) for one of our very first gigs! Our very first international booking, we insisted on your rig being part of the experience." This early decision underscored their unwavering priority: the sound had to be right, a shared understanding amongst those who truly appreciate the culture. The memory of the mono stack setup, running all the bass bins together in mono, "an old reggae thing," Charlie explained, a nod to the roots of sound system culture, highlights the deep-rooted appreciation for sonic history that informs their modern approach.
This dedication to the craft is intrinsically linked to a profound love for the music and the vibrant community it cultivates. The excitement surrounding the recent Tengu collaborations with Emma was infectious. "That culture night last year, that was all Emma's initiative, to see if she could draw a crowd purely for the sound system experience. And it was electric! Absolutely wicked!" Charlie enthused, the energy of the night still palpable in his voice as he listed the names with genuine respect: "Jonesy from Rise-Up, his rig is serious! and Ambit, always bringing the vibes, and the powerful selections from Rita, and myself... and this absolutely mental MC from England, MC Mad, I think it was."
These nights are true collaborations, fueled by a shared love for the weighty rhythms and intricate sonic tapestries of dubstep, jungle, and drum and bass. "It's so crucial to see someone like Emma actively pushing this sound in Ireland," Charlie added, also giving props to "Misha Freshin with his consistently excellent Inhabit nights. He's had me out a few times already this year. It's genuinely great just to have people who get it, who understand that this music deserves to be heard and felt, properly. It’s a completely different experience."
These gatherings transcend mere parties; they are vital congregations for a community that speaks the unspoken language of the bassline. "People simply don't get to experience this kind of sound on a regular night out, or even at some of the bigger festivals," Charlie pointed out, "So, these smaller, dedicated sound system nights, they're not just about the music; they're about creating that specific sonic environment, that feeling." It's within these spaces that a unique sense of unity blossoms on the dancefloor, bound by the shared physical sensation of the music. Charlie also made sure to mention other dedicated sound system crews who are vital to the scene, like Rise-Up Sound System from Cork, spearheaded by Jonesy, who are consistently pushing the boundaries and bringing that heavy sound to different corners of Ireland. He also spoke of the growing energy around the free party scene and newer crews like Injector, who are adding fresh momentum to the culture.
However, the path of the DIY sound system operator is rarely a smooth, bass-laden ride. As the initial loading bay saga vividly illustrated, the unpredictable nature of real life often throws unwieldy obstacles in the way. But beyond these immediate frustrations, there are deeply ingrained systemic challenges. "I really want to highlight the constant struggles of putting on these kinds of DIY sound system gigs, like what we're doing with Rubadub, what Jonesy's doing down in Cork, what crews like Underdub are trying to build, everyone's trying and struggling."
A primary and persistent hurdle, as we touched upon earlier, is the sheer lack of suitable and affordable venues. While venues like Racketspace and Tengu are much loved by ravers and organizers, they operate within the existing licensing framework. "Take Racketspace," Charlie elaborated, "It's a space that's willing to work with us, which we appreciate, but for the kind of experience we aim for, we really need longer than their current 3am license allows." He was quick to emphasize, "This isn't a criticism of Racketspace themselves; it's the laws that need to evolve." The desire for longer windows that align more with the clubbing norms across much of Europe underscores the limitations imposed on fostering a thriving late-night culture around these sounds.
"Even for the women's aid gig we did there, we had to pay extra just to open a little earlier. It all adds up." The financial strain of these constraints further complicates an already challenging endeavor. "It can be incredibly expensive," Charlie admitted, recalling various venue costs. "You're looking at hundreds just for the space, and that's before you even think about sound hire if you don't have your own rig, and everything else."
We at IED have noticed, through conversations with friends and contacts who run events, attend them, and manage bars and venues, that the ever increasing cost of drinks is a significant factor contributing to the struggling venue scene and discouraging people from going out. When unlicensed parties offer cheaper alcohol from off-licenses, longer opening hours, and often a more relaxed atmosphere compared to bars charging €7 or more for a small bottle of beer, it's clear why. This situation is partly fueled by exorbitant taxes on alcohol, but also by some venues increasing prices beyond the tax hikes, further deterring customers and impacting their overall experience.
In the venues' defense, the dwindling attendance at gigs understandably leads to pressure to raise drink prices to compensate for lost revenue, creating a concerning downward spiral. This cycle is driven by excessive taxes, customers' reluctance to spend on overpriced drinks, and venues struggling to stay afloat amidst fluctuating crowd numbers.
The difficulties extend beyond opening hours and financial burdens. Locating venues that can structurally and acoustically accommodate the immense physical presence and sonic demands of a proper sound system, like Charlie's powerful creation, is a persistent and often frustrating challenge. This search is made even harder by the rising cost of alcohol in Ireland, which can strain event budgets and potentially affect attendance if ticket prices need to be increased.
Then there's the bureaucratic maze of licensing. "You can't just set up in a warehouse and throw a party," Charlie stated matter-of-factly. "There's insurance, public liability, the archaic dance hall act... it's a minefield." He firmly believes that a more supportive governmental approach to cultural events is crucial. "The government really needs to wake up and address the venue situation and actively support cultural initiatives like ours. This isn't just noise; this is a vibrant part of our culture, whether it's the foundational sounds of reggae and its rich history, or the cutting-edge energy of drum and bass and the free party movement."
And yet, despite these considerable and often frustrating obstacles, the passion that fuels Dublin's sound system community, spearheaded by dedicated individuals like Charlie and his hand-built Rubadub PA, remains an indomitable force. The recent nights in Tengu, even with the initial loading bay chaos, stand as a vibrant testament to this unwavering commitment. Charlie, and the many other unsung heroes of this scene, are driven by a profound love for the music, a dedication to the intricate craft of sound, and an unwavering belief in the unifying, almost spiritual power of the bass.
This isn't a story of defeat, but one of relentless optimism and artistic resilience. The very struggles with traditional venues and restrictive licensing, far from dampening spirits, are instead fueling a powerful and increasingly popular response: the explosive growth of unlicensed outdoor parties by crews all over Ireland. "When the city doesn't quite provide the spaces we need," Charlie stated, "the people will eventually find ways to provide for themselves. You can't suppress a genuine cultural movement."
The surge in unlicensed gatherings, often in overlooked urban spaces or the surrounding countryside, speaks volumes about the unmet demand for these increasingly popular experiences and the community's determination to create them, regardless of official channels.
For Charlie and the Rubadub crew, and indeed for the entire sound system community, it's fundamentally about the art, the art of building, the art of selecting, and the art of creating a space where music truly comes alive. It's about the love poured into every component of a custom-built sound system, the hours spent meticulously tuning it to perfection, and the sheer joy of witnessing a dancefloor united by its pulse. The challenges with venues, while undeniably real, are not extinguishing this fire; instead, they are inadvertently fueling a more autonomous and, at times, legally ambiguous underground.
The city and its officials must realize that by failing to accommodate this vibrant and growing sound system culture, they are not only stifling artistic expression but also directly fueling the explosive popularity of unlicensed outdoor parties. It is imperative that they recognize and accommodate our culture and needs as citizens of this country. Otherwise, they risk driving a significant wedge in society, causing passionate groups to increasingly seek non-licensed venues to fulfill their fundamental cultural needs. The onus is on the councils and city managers to recognize the cultural value of this movement and to adapt their frameworks accordingly to either catch up and provide the necessary, flexible infrastructure that fosters such organic cultural growth, or risk further marginalizing a passionate community and seeing its energy channeled entirely outside of regulated spaces.
For now, the bass bins of Rubadub and the unwavering dedication of people like Charlie continue to resonate, a powerful testament to the enduring power of music, the unbreakable bonds of community, and the irrepressible spirit of the DIY underground. The future of Dublin's sound system culture, and its relationship with the city, remains to be seen, but one thing is clear: the bass will find a way. Charlies Next Event Info: If you want to catch up with Charlie at his next event and experience his powerful PA in person, make sure to check out this upcoming gig. Thankfully, amidst the ongoing challenges, there are tireless individuals genuinely trying their hardest to nurture and sustain this vital culture in Dublin. With dedicated figures like Emma Giliand on the scene, the future for bass-heavy nights and true underground music movements continues to pulse with promise. Emma's unwavering commitment to hosting and championing these events at Yamamori Tengu is truly commendable, and we applaud the venue for consistently providing a vital platform for the raw energy and community spirit that defines sound system culture.
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