Hidden Sydney: Urthboy’s Top Five Secret Spots

There aren't many people who have had a greater influence on Sydney's (and Australia's) music scene in the past decade than Tim Levinson, perhaps better known as Urthboy. As one of the founding members of The Herd, as well as co-founder of local label Elefant Trax (home to the likes of Astronomy Class, Hermitude, Sky High, Jimblah and The Tongue), Levinson has set the benchmark for hip hop in this country and demonstrated that it is possible to combine enthralling beats, lyrical wordplay and a social conscience all at once.

One of the characteristics of much of Elefant Trax's output has been their keen sense of place; theirs is unquestionably and unashamedly an Australian sound, with MCs maintaining their accents and not being shy to name-check Oxford Arts or Redfern Station when many other local hip hop acts try to imitate the sound of New York, Los Angeles and Detroit.

And of course this local legend is playing FBi Turns 10 this weekend, and as with so many acts on that lineup, Levinson has fond memories of a decade of independent radio (a fun fact for all you trivia nerds: FBi's very first feature album was Hermitude's Alleys to Valleys; Levinson says he remembers the high-fives when they found out.) When asked what he thought FBi brought to Sydney, he went straight for the big picture: "[FBi brings] a local voice combining expertise on subcultures that gives us art and helps us understand our identity," he says. "Plus Shantan and Joyride. They're almost subcultures themselves."

As one of our foremost modern poets, we asked Levinson about his favourite spots in Sydney, and the best-kept secrets of this amazing city of ours. Unsurprisingly, he didn't disappoint.

1. Jasmin, Lakemba

I'm no food critic — I'm a touring musician for god sakes, I'll eat a servo pie for breakfast when pushed — but this place is fantastic. This region of south-west Sydney has some incredible food spots on offer in an area that comfortably shows the complicated beauty of Sydney's diversity. Haldon Street is a vibrant community of bakeries, halal butchers, Asian restaurants and of course, Jasmin. The fare is Lebanese and the hospitality is quick and non-fussed. It's cheap and substantial and my wife and I love eating there.

2. Gordon's Bay

The magnetism of the beach has always had a hold on me; the showdown with Sydney traffic is always made sweet by the saltwater waiting on the other side. Gordon's Bay is quiet and usually okay for parking so it's the spot. There is part of me that can't quite reconcile why something so beautiful has avoided some asshole making us pay for entry. I don’t care for the lifestyle of living by the beach, but let me take a few back streets and dive in that frothy Tasman Sea from time to time. Perfect.

3. From Dulwich Hill to Marrickville

I’ve never enjoyed living in an area more than I do here in Inner West Sydney. There’s an honesty about Marrickville and Dulwich Hill, where Vietnamese butchers and fishmongers ply their trade alongside Greek delicatessens and 7-11s; and young artists co-opt industrial warehouses, creating important art spaces and ‘illegal’ venues. I ride my bike to work and though we’re located in a grimy street where the road looks like an old soldier’s face, I love the location and wouldn’t trade places with anyone, anywhere in this city.

4. Marrickville Oval

Nothing says ‘you’re getting old’ like the increasing pleasure of walking around the local cricket park. At one end all ages and a variety of nationalities roll their arms over in the cricket nets; at the other are tennis courts and a boxing gym. Parents bring their babies and dogs and a class of African kids laugh hysterically as they run around doing athletics. Laying down in the middle of the oval and staring at the sky is a underrated way of defragging. A cricket park is so much more than a place to bat and bowl.

5. The Annandale Hotel, The Vic on the Park, Newtown Social Club, etc

I think it was Paul Kelly who said that live venues are a musician’s university. The sticky carpets and haggard PAs feel like home to me, and pay a bit of respect forward to the bar staff who probably play in a band that will be big one day. During times of great technological change there’s an irreplaceable atmosphere and energy about live music. Watch YouTube until your eyes weary if you must, but I feel bad for you if you think it’s a substitute. There will never be anything like being there. Live music is a way of bringing community together despite the disconnectedness that we absent-mindedly find ourselves feeling.