Think global, act local.

It's becoming some of a hollow trope as of late, but in the case of Bradley Zero's Rhythm Section, the mantra still holds. You broadly know what you're in for when popping round Canavans: low lighting, low slung vibes and (speaking from experience) low scores on the tables. There are few established nights that can match it for a convivial and homely atmosphere; but filtered down into that apparent effortlessness is a careful curation of globestradding guests and a refreshing lack of definition in the dance.

Unsurprisingly, that's been the overarching narrative for the namesake imprint to date – Bradley's even gone and handily added an 'International' just to double-underscore the point for those not paying attention at the back.

Rhythm Section Intl's smudging of sonic touchstones and geographic points of reference marks it out as a clear frontrunner in a thriving, though increasingly cluttered, South London set. Not to say the blossoming of yer 22ayys, Churches and Wholemeals can be solely attributed back to it, of course. But when it comes to this micro-scene, paradoxically both free-floating and firm-rooted, RS Intl sets the bar. Which makes sense after all, given its founder's future role as a ambassador/councillor/MP for Peckham (watch this space, genuinely).

His Upfront is by some distance the longest in the series to date. So long, in fact, we assumed there must have been some older cuts slipped in to supplement the 100m runtime. Not so: it's all forthcoming, and all gold. It's typically loose, funky and mixed (in the Red Light Radio booth, fyi; proof of a busy man) with a winsome flair. The mix begins with a dense, whirring palate-cleanse and ends with neo-soul hiccups, otherwise skipping through RS005 and RS006, fresh material from office favs Henry Wu, Max Graef and Dego, plus plenty more ??'d goodies besides. Kudos, too, for the best back cover design yet.

That tracklist reveals a pertinent point: the gaggle of disparate names shouldn't really make sense clustered together, but somehow do; it feels definably 'like' Rhythm Section. That's down to Brad's fine-tuned ear and restless enthusiasm, but also an unerring dedication to putting his friends on. When Boiler Room pivoted into its second phase last year, that came into even clearer focus. From plonking Andras Fox in Gilles Peterson's basement with a bag of unheralded Aussie ambient to spin, to giving the world a keyhole look inside the Bavarian delights of Public Possession's store, or even preaching the gospel of the Hut from Vancouver well before the rest of us had cottoned on – he's always looking to support and spread the music and the message, as far as wide as possible. It's a winning approach.

As the global-local scales tip increasingly to the former, we'll likely be seeing less of him around BR HQ. But pride makes the occasional twangs of longing a lot easier to swallow. As far afield as Rhythm Section carries Bradley, joining disparate dots on the map in his own inimitable fashion, you know that at heart he's still family. And when you boil it right down, that's the most important thing of all.