Mention Bristol , and people start thinking Massive Attack, Roni Size , Smith & Mighty, Tricky. However, the beginnings of its redoubtable scene are a world away from the glossy magazine covers and international fame enjoyed by these now-established stars. Think, instead, of raucous house parties and dingy clubs, DIY ethics and the pure, simple love of great music and good times.

Think, in short, of The Wild Bunch sound system .

For an all too brief period in the 1980s, this outstanding collective grabbed the Zeitgeist by the horns and performed a vital role in shaping the future of British popular music, tearing the roof off London’s stylish and aloof hip hop scene, then moving further afield and rocking both the United States and Japan; this at a time when such ventures were all but unheard of within UK DJ culture.

Including such names as renowned producer Nellee Hooper, Grant “Daddy G” Marshall , Andrew “Mushroom” Vowles and Robert “3D” Del Naja, — who eventually went on to form Massive Attack— , The Wild Bunch's ongoing influence is plain to see. However, despite having played a huge part in birthing the city’s unique blend of hazy reggae grooves, headphone-friendly breakbeats, sumptuous, soulful vocals and earthy, idiosyncratic raps, one member has never taken his place in the annals of dance music lore: Miles Johnson aka DJ Milo.

While his peers went on to receive worldwide adulation, the tall, charismatic figure seen in so many archive photographs opted for an altogether quieter life. When the crew came to its natural end, he receded from view, eventually settling in New York, where he now lives with his wife and family. Far from being a forgotten man, though, Johnson’s contribution to this memorable period is warmly recalled and any historical imbalance has now, in part, been redressed with the release of his mix CD retrospective, The Wild Bunch: Story Of A Sound System.

A collaboration between the Junior label and UK reissue imprint Strut, this 26-track collection captures something of the vibrancy of those long-gone nights. Blending vintage live recordings of the team in action with an impeccable selection of music—the bumping hip-hop beats of Spoonie Gee and T La Rock, Newcleus and Man Parrish’s early electro, the silken soul of Evelyn “Champagne” King and Mr Fingers’ caustic acid house—it fizzes with joyful energy and provides a valuable lesson in the heritage of British club culture.

The man responsible for this project, Junior’s Paul Byrne, says: “To be honest, the idea came to me in the bath one day. I was just thinking about how there were so many compilations and other things around in the UK celebrating places like the Paradise Garage in New York, but nothing reflecting what went on in our own clubs in the early days, even though it’s equally important in terms of where we are now. It was something that needed to be put right. “I was only about 12 when The Wild Bunch were throwing their parties so I wasn’t there, but considering the impact they have had, it seemed like the obvious place to start.

I began to bounce the idea around and the more digging I did, the more Milo’s name came up. Although the other members have gone on to do great things, he was the one that people who were actually a part of that whole thing remembered best, so we tracked him down and put the idea to him and it all went from there. The bottom line is that he was and still is a blinding DJ and deserves to be recognized for the amazing things he’s done.”

Shawn Stussy was a surfer, who built a solid underground reputation shaping surf boards during the 1970s in Laguna Beach California. A meticulous craftsman, Stussy¹s boards were also some of the most elegant, with stylish airbrushes, hand-shaped foam fins, shiny gloss coats and grubby sanded-finishes.

The logo he used was his surname written in graffiti tag style.

When winters rolled around, he fled to the mountains to ski. On a fateful afternoon on Mammoth Mountain, Shawn bumped into a fella by the name of Frank Sinatra ( not that Frank Sinatra). After hours of brain-digging, Frank was sprung on Shawn's vision and stee-lo - the way he designed, the way he wrote his name, and the manner in which he airbrushed his surfboards. Together, they started Stussy.

Shawn was the artist and Frank was the beancounter. Frank relied on Shawn to propel the street vibe while he handled the business end of Stussy. Initially, Shawn's designs and spirit behind Stussy stemmed from a blend of beach roots and reggae culture, but most importantly, the burgenoing skateboard culture. Both Shawn and Frank honored the skateboarder's mentality of not caring, wearing edgier clothes, and pushing the envelope when it came to fashion.

Stussy made its mark by making its products and brand tangible to the masses, including surfers, skaters, djs, artists, and musicians. including a time in the 1980s when the now infamous "Stussy Tribe" (a group of selected musicians, djs and artists) could be seen rocking the pages of style bibles like The Face magazine.

In the late 80s and early 90s Stussy swept through the clothing scene and redefined the previous notions of streetwear. Spawning many imitations Supreme , Bathing ape etc etc.

Now with a more refined and classic style, pooled from different sections of a burgeoning international underground culture, Stussy’s collection has grown from t-shirts to complete men’s and women’s collections. With chapter stores in New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, London, and Japan, Stussy has a strong global presence. From skate to surf, reggae to hip hop, electronica to preppy, surplus to everyone in between, Stussy is still livin' XL after 25 years.