The DJ who does tea

The television transformation of cuddly old git Tony Blackburn from object of ridicule to the nation's favourite slow learner signals a significant sea change in what we want from our DJs. Who knows, there may even be a way back for Smashie and Nicey types such as Mike Read and Simon Bates, if only for a one-off production of I'm a DJ... Let Me Out of Here! Aargh!.

Certainly, compared with the old gits of yore, the current crop of Radio 1 nabobs are unusually charmless, even for DJs. Hulking Neanderthals who get their perks from opening superclubs rather than supermarkets, they're beginning to feel the pinch now that recession has hit the club scene, and listening to mainstream dance music is increasingly associated with being stupid. Pete Tong, Judge Jules, Uncle Tim Westwood and all, don't exactly inspire affection at the best of times, so what will we feel about them in 20 years time, when they're reduced to fronting ads for retirement communities in Ibiza on UK Gold? A cosy, Tony Blackburn-friendly glow seems distinctly unlikely.

And then there are all the DJs who aren't on the radio but have major-label record contracts to produce sub-Paul Hardcastle instrumentals that we'll eventually hear in lifts. Well they're even worse, obviously.

But if the times demand a new type of DJ – preferably a human being who actually likes music – he's in the wings already, if not on the radio yet; Step forward Mr Scruff – aka Andy Carthy, a 30-year-old Mancunian, and probably the only club DJ to prefer a nice cup of tea to a gramme of cocaine. Scruff uses the tea (Tetley, if possible) to sustain him through marathon sets of up to six hours, when he mixes – or even better, doesn't mix, just bashes the records on, one after the other – funk, hip hop and house with Northern soul, disco, samba, reggae; anything, really, as long as it's good. There are also oddities like Chilean cover versions of James Brown tunes, and his own quirky recordings featuring deconstructed jazz and references to aquatic life. At a DJ Scruff gig, people dance but listen at the same time. As the evening wears on, the gathering uncertainty about what tune might be played next generates real tension; it's like Hitchcock, only with BPMs.

"There are a lot of so-called superstar DJs who have become very lazy and basically just repeat themselves, people like Judge Jules or Pete Tong, for instance," Andy Carthy says when I interview him shortly before he goes on stage at the Big Chill, where he's an old favourite. "They really know their stuff and the history of black music, but you listen to them on the radio and you wouldn't know it. It's the whole no-risk thing that irritates me, too. I like being surprised, even if someone plays something I don't like. I also think every DJ has a responsibility to show where their music comes from."

Even if you haven't heard of Mr Scruff, you can't have avoided his music. A catchy little number called "Get A Move On" – all rubber-legged shuffle-rhythms and mad saxophone parps – was the theme for an ubiquitous MasterCard ad at the time of the World Cup. "It's been on countless adverts and some really shite decorating programme on daytime TV," Carthy says. He denies the royalties have made him rich, claiming most go straight to the estates of T-Bone Walker and Louis Hardin (the blind street musician known as Moondog). "'Get A Move On' is basically all samples," he says. "I get very little money out of the ads."

It's just as well Carthy didn't get the royalties, as he'd only waste them on records. "I spend all the money I earn – all my disposable income, on vinyl, just like I did when I was 11," he says. He'll quite happily spend £300 or £400 on something rare, like that album of Chilean James Brown covers, and admits to spending whole days without food in record shops. Although he doesn't know exactly how many records he's got, he thinks it may be around the 15,000 mark. Certainly, there are two rooms full of them in his house, in both alphabetical and genre order, naturally. "But there's always going to be records I've not got. Gilles Peterson's got a whole house full."

Records run in the Carthy family, and the T-Bone Walker riff in "Get a Move On" was nicked from an old album of his dad's, who was into blues, Northern soul and ska. The future Mr Scruff began his DJ apprenticeship on the family music centre at the age of 11. "I think a lot of DJs are quite insulting in the way they underestimate their audiences, but I'm very lucky in that I've managed to stick to my guns from the word go", he says. "I had 10 years of isolation before that, just DJing in my bedroom, learning the whole thing about contrast and structure and tempo. My first gig was at a student union in 1990, but I didn't start playing regularly until 1994."

Carthy is commendably straightforward when it comes to Mr Scruff's secondary career as a recording artist. "What I do is quite simple: I play records and I make music by using other people's records, at least as a starting point, as samples and collages; just shoving stuff in the pot, really," he says. "It's like the band thing; I'm not at all interested in getting a band to play my stuff live. I can't play a note on an instrument but I've been DJing for 20 years and that's where I feel right at home, where I'm in control."

Mr Scruff's future plans are mainly to do with improving the facilities of the places where he plays. "I like real ale and I like drinking tea in nightclubs," Carthy says. "It's not at all about 'What wacky thing can we do now?' It's about what I'd want in an ideal club: a good sound system, good DJ, great atmosphere, and a nice cup of tea." Like a Tony Blackburn de nos jours, Mr Scruff could be the new housewife's choice.

'Trouser Jazz' is out now on Ninja Tune. Mr Scruff plays the Forum, Kentish Town, London NW5, tonight, and tours the country until 11 October