A decade ago, on June 23^rd 2016,  the UK voted to sever its ties with the European Union. A shade after 10pm, viewers tuned to BBC1 heard David Dimbleby usher the words: “the people have spoken… and we’re out!”

At the time, like many, I was devastated by the outcome. I was sadly not surprised – I had warned many fellow ‘remainers’ in and around me in Bristol what was coming in the months and weeks leading up to the vote, urging them to ensure that they voted – but that was little consolation.

Farage, Johnson and the collection of chancers, spivs and disaster capitalists funding the Vote Leave campaign had won, and as a result we would all be poorer; the nation we called home was not the outward-looking, confident and modern place many of us believed (or at the very least hoped) it was, but rather an insular, inward-looking island clinging to a colonial past. British exceptionalism – or, more accurately given the strong vote to remain in Scotland and narrower pro-EU votes in Wales and Northern Ireland, English exceptionalism – had won the day.

At the time, I responded in the only way my neurodiverse brain knew how: by finding a creative outlet to express my disappointment, anger and disillusionment. As usual, that outlet was a mix. But this was no ordinary mix: it was to be a howl of anguish and a searing commentary of Brexit and ‘Brexit Britain’ all rolled into one, credited to my then ‘mystery’ alias, Anti-Fun.

Officially, the resulting “anti-Brexit” mix – hosted by the Berceuse Heroique label and officially the 18^th instalment of their long-running mix series – was the final Anti-Fun cry of anguish. Or, more accurately, the final cry of anguish *to date*. It feels like the return of Anti-Fun could be imminent; certainly, the state of the world is such that there is plenty of material to fire my creativity.

That mix, officially titled ‘This Septic Isle’, was for years available on the Berceuse Heroique Soundcloud channel. Sadly, that channel disappeared into the ether sometime last year, and with it the mix. I was devastated, as it remains one of my personal favourites. Fortunately, I managed to locate a copy of the mix on an old USB stick (along with the rest of the Anti-Fun back catalogue) so have decided to make it available again in honour of the 10^th anniversary of Brexit.

Listening back for the first time in years, I’m struck by how current it still feels. It’s arguably more of a 40-minute sound collage than a traditional DJ mix. It has a narrative or sorts and contains a dizzying amount of spoken word samples, mostly lifted from news reports, YouTube videos, political TV shows and talk radio.

Many of those samples, backed by a moody and dystopian soundscape rich in dark ambient, moody techno, weirdo electronic jazz, reflect the rise in xenophobia and overt racism in the UK – something which has only got worse in the decade that has passed since the vote. To make matters worse, Nigel bloody Farage – who, unsurprisingly, does appear in sampled form within the mix – is now odds on to become the UK’s next prime minister. It could, and possibly will, get much worse. Heavens above.

Anyway, you’ll find the mix embedded below. Sadly, I have not been able to locate the tracklisting, which I think was lost when an old laptop finally gave up the ghost, but I do know that it contains a particularly wild Mei Ta’hat track co-produced by Jordan GCZ, a throbbing UK techno slammer from 1994 released on the late Andrew Weatherall’s Sabrettes label, a recording of a choir singing ‘Jerusalem’, some ‘fourth world’ type stuff, and a clutch of bittersweet ambient cuts. I hope you enjoy it – or at least find it interesting, stimulating and thought-provoking.