In the video for his debut single, Blasphemer, gothic images of Gaika, bare-chested, wearing a horned mask and writhing in anger, flicker ghost-like across the screen. Haunting piano and swooping synths back an Auto-Tuned patois that laments “killer cops” and “needing jobs”. It’s a visceral statement and, as Gaika explains, one that challenges stereotypes. “I was playing with the idea of what it means to be a young black male. It’s about hyper-masculinity and vulnerability at the same time.”

The Brixton-born artist once rolled with Manchester rap crew Murkage but as a solo artist he’s a new proposition in British music. He’s a straight, young black man who dabbles in performance art, costume, masks and movement; he recently collaborated with transgender New York hip-hopper Mykki Blanco; and he promises a mixed crowd full of “hood kids, musos, flamboyant queer people and beautiful women” at his live shows.

It might sound like something out of a fashion supplement but Gaika’s progressive aesthetic is matched by his sound. His tracks are informed by the Caribbean dancehall tradition and London grime but also nod to R&B, trip-hop, grunge and Prince. “If I’ve got one aim musically it’s to shift where normal is,” he says. “Particularly with black music.”

Having placed himself firmly in the grey areas, Gaika says that the musical establishment don’t have a clue what to do with his music; he’s unsigned and happy to stay that way: “People don’t know what to make of it – it doesn’t sound like Tinie Tempah! If you’re a black guy you’re either supposed to make grime, reggae, R&B or thin coffee-table music that’s never gonna get played in any Brixton barber shop.”

Gaika is coming through in the #BritsSoWhite era – a hashtag that shamed the lack of diversity at this year’s awards ceremony – but one when black artists are thriving independently. Grime has made it possible for new underground music to make it big without resorting to traditional release structures and Gaika is following that model, if not the sound. “The Brits were a joke. The Oscars were a joke,” he says. “The good thing is that black musicians are ignoring that shit and doing their own thing.”

For Gaika, that means self-releasing mixtapes such as 2015’s Machine, industrial-influenced tracks that merge the personal with the political. He has already had a song banned from Radio 1 with Murkage, for lyrics that supposedly incited violence in the wake of the London riots but were actually a call to disenfranchised youth to understand their cause. That didn’t deter Gaika, though, and on Machine he tackles police brutality and British colonialism. If not Radio 1, then, where would he most like to hear his music played? “At Fillings Caribbean takeaway in Brixton.” Next stop: the barber’s.

Gaika plays Convergence festival at Village Underground, EC1, Friday 18 March