Playboi Carti – A Review

I’ve found it quite hard to reinvent myself as a rap fan. In a field where the likes of Kendrick Lamar, J.Cole, Big K.R.I.T. and other lyrical gods are providing that true essence, the frequent itch I need to scratch is this new wave of mumble rappers that aren’t going away. I was ignorant at first, quick to dismiss any and everything they had to offer.

The person who turned the tide happened to be a young man from Awful Records named Playboi Carti, and his viral smash ‘Broke Boi’. Suddenly I grasped the appeal; it wasn’t the substance of what he was saying, but the aesthetic to the record that made me vibe. He made it cool for me to favour the bars but also get down to what the new generation were doing. This is not to say that he is super lyrical spiritual spherical miracle, but more on that later.

Since then, my ear for – for want of a better word – commercial sounding rap was opened and my prejudices began to slip away. Carti was only dropping loosies but his debut project will be fire, I thought.

Well, fast forward a couple years and that young man has settled slowly into the game rather than blowing the door down, stalling on a full-length project until this point. His self-titled debut mixtape illuminates his highlights; namely, his ear for beats. Listening to this tape, my same prejudices threatened to resurface, however.

But I’ll get the good bits out of the way first. Beginning the project is the Harry Fraud-produced ‘Location’, which sounds like what happens when you ascend into heaven and Rick James is waiting for you at the pearly gates. Carti fits his lane perfectly here, with his trademark ‘YAH’ and ‘WHAT’ adlibs weaving between braggadocious diatribes.

The good vibes continue on another highlight, ‘Magnolia’, with Pierre Bourne behind the boards, and it becomes clear that Cash Carti is relaying on the producers to craft the mixtape. Which, for the most part, they do. Other exceptional beats appear elsewhere, such as the A$AP Rocky-assisted ‘New Choppa’, ‘Half and Half’ and ‘No. 9’, and they serve the purpose of keeping things exciting as the lyrics meander from one generic trap theme to another. Carti is vivid despite using little words (literally half of the album is adlibs), and his energy and confidence is reciprocated by the production.

The excitement gets old very quickly, though, and it gets to a point where I can’t rely on the beats anymore. But it began to make sense. Its more than fine to hear one or two tracks at any one time, but a whole 15-track project? The appeal will have lost its lustre after track six at least! Luckily, Playboi Carti managed to keep my attention until track 9, but the lack of sophistication in his songwriting became more grating. It gets to a point where hooks are not clearly discernible from verses, namely on ‘Wokeuplikethis’ with player partner Lil Uzi Vert, the kind of thoughtless methods apparent in no classic album/mixtape ever.

There’s only so much of the same thing I want to hear on a project, no matter how good it sounds. He is describing a lifestyle of carefree innocence, free of consequence, and that is all well and good, but with Lil Yachty, Uzi (who made two appearances on the mixtape) and others above him in the pecking order, Carti has to figure out a way to jettison himself to the top of the pile. Those artists arguably do it better, but there is space for Carti to shine. He has the aesthetic and sound already, so half of the work is already done.

This is a solid if not contrived first outing for an artist about whom we still don’t really know much (other than his extracurricular activities with the opposite sex), and there is potential if the vocals can match the beats, but the Atlanta rapper represents the best and worst of new age rap. With better lyrical output, he could become one of its focal points.


Dazed 100

I recently contributed to the Dazed 100, a list compiled by Dazed & Confused Magazine of the top 100 most influential figures across music, art, photography, film and culture overall.

Check out my profiles on Lil Yachty, Princess Nokia, Yung Beef and Bala Club.

Lil Yachty

Dazed 100 Lil Yachty 2

Atlanta has a new hero in the youthful, exuberant and charismatic rapper Lil Yachty. Not since Andre 3000 has an artist from the Dirty South capital transcended rap and pop culture so effortlessly, pinballing between both with such ease.

A true figurehead for the carefree, statement-making youth of today, Lil Boat’s self-described ‘jingle bell rap’ has garnered tens of millions of YouTube views and sold out shows. Packed with relentless, playful positivity, the red-braided rapper has earned the respect of his peers (despite early criticism of his easygoing style), stealing the show on tracks with the likes of Chance the Rapper, Charli XCX and D.R.A.M.

“I just want to be on every lane. Pop, EDM – I want to be genre-friendly,” Yachty told Dazed in 2016. “Do a song with Madonna, then do a song with Taylor Swift, then I’ll do a song with Lil Wayne – just cross (them) all over.” The wide scope of his artistry is evident in his work: his debut mixtape, Lil Boat, and follow-up Summer Songs 2 experimented with a multitude of genres, excelling in precisely the sort of areas where other rappers fear to tread. With plans to release his debut album in 2017, expect Yachty’s positive rhymes to trump the critical downpour.


Princess Nokia

Album cover

Princess Nokia, the barrier-breaking, Afro-Latina goddess from Spanish Harlem, is one of the fiercest rappers in the game today.

Demonstrating a desire to unite all women of colour, Nokia (real name Destiny Frasqueri) channelled the potency of New York and black women more generally with “Brujas” and “Kitana”, two of 2016’s most politically-charged music videos. At the heart of her brash, alluring lyrics is a spirituality that comes with being at one with herself and her Puerto Rican roots.

“How I’m seeing myself now is kind of starting a new era of alternagirl, this whole new, epic, brown girl rock, girls with skateboards, moshing topless, girls who do what they want thing,” she told Dazed, undeterred in her mission to empower women of all walks.

Nokia, who projects her identity with absolute grace, never graduated high school, turned down five record deals, and grew up without her mother moving between East Harlem and the Lower East Side. Yet she remains a soldier whose story serves as an inspiration for girls of all backgrounds.


Yung Beef

Yung Beef (No credit needed) Dazed 100

In just over two years, Granada native Yung Beef has fast become Spain’s pre-eminent rapper, picking up his musical tastes while working odd jobs in Marseille, London, and later Barcelona, where he is now based.

Beef’s geographically diverse sound is unapologetic, with piercing, incisive lyrics over trap beats fused with reggaetón, salsa and more besides, and characterised by its shout-outs to various fashion brands. That all makes sense, as Beef has become a poster boy for labels like Calvin Klein and Givenchy.

Few rappers have been bold enough to parade around in a skirt and high heels on a runway, but the ease with which Beef flits between men’s and womenswear is almost unrivalled, as is his flair for breaking down musical barriers. Standouts include “Givenchy Dons” with fellow PXXR GVNG member Kaydy Cain, “A.D.R.O.M.I.C.F.M.S.” and “Beef Boy”. With recent collabs with Metro Boomin, Lex Luger and 808 Mafia also in the bag, Beef’s mind is back firmly on the music.


Bala Club

Bala Club Dazed 100

Electronic music collective Bala Club have forged a lane for themselves in London’s underground through radio sets on NTS, infamous beer-soaked club nights and a slew of individual and group releases both via the internet and London label Hyperdub.

Comprised of Chilean-British brothers Kamixlo and Uli K and their friend Endgame, each member brings an unmistakable sound to the overall repertoire; Kamixlo’s blend of dancehall and reggaetón, Uli K’s low-key, melodic ballads and Endgame’s glacial tones means that many bases, and dancefloors, are covered.

In June 2016 the squad dropped their debut compilation, a collection of tracks from each cohort under the Bala name. It was an expertly constructed, super-condensed voyage into their collective psyche, and the inclusion of sad- rap poster boy Yung Lean shows that the Club’s waters run deep. Batting away the idea that you can’t do it all, the threesome are the shot in the arm London’s crumbling nightlife so desperately needs.

It’s Time For Grime To Move On From The Brit Awards


As featured in Complex UK

Last night’s Brit Awards was supposed to be a momentous night for the grime scene. After the controversy of #BritsSoWhite last year (where only one black British artist was up for nomination) and with grime acts up for the top prizes this year, this was meant to be the night the mainstream finally stood up and recognised the genre at large. The likes of Skepta, Kano and Stormzy were nominated for multiple awards and expectations were as high as they have ever been.

Well, The Brits had other plans. Despite show-stealing performances from Skepta (whose rendition of “Shutdown” was marred by constant muting) and Stormzy, who joined Ed Sheeran on stage, neither were able to scoop an award, beaten by Rag’N’Bone Man and the late David Bowie in the British Breakthrough Act, Best Male Artist and Best Album categories, respectively. Social media went crazy—how could The Brits disregard the scene for the second consecutive year?—but this failure speaks to a much bigger problem.

While it is understandable to be disappointed, there is no reason to be shocked by The Brits’ actions. After all, it was only under mounting pressure that the British Phonographic Industry switched up its process of selecting nominees to incorporate not only black artists, but grime artists, in the wake of the much-publicised #BritsSoWhite controversy. After last night, this decision can only be seen for what it was; an incredibly hollow one, not representative of a real desire to be more inclusive, but a half-hearted pandering to public and industry outrage. And, while the nomination of grime artists can be seen as a positive, it will have been doubly disappointing for all involved that they showed up at the awards only to be denied once more.

The writing is now firmly on the wall: The Brits have shown, yet again, that they don’t really care about the grime scene and its accomplishments, and that it cannot be trusted to be more representative of what is really going on in the country musically. Equally, now is the time for grime to move on from The Brits.

The scene has never needed this validation, and that’s what makes it so great—that Skepta, Stormzy, Kano, Wiley et al are at the centre of British pop culture, shutting down performances on the stages of award shows that don’t really acknowledge them, and making history, in spite of the mainstream’s portrayal of them. The mainstream has never understood the scene and last night was further proof.

Looking inwards, urban artists already have two ready-made awards ceremonies that are for us: The MOBOs and The Rated Awards. The MOBOs is a recognised institution, and The Rated Awards is still in its infancy and will only get bigger. While they may not be perfect, they are designed to celebrate urban music and its multiple facets, and it’s time to place our full support into these organiSations. The Brits could never really capture the pure vibrancy and diversity of the urban scene like our award shows can, and this needs to be greater emphasised following last night.

If we can build these shows to the same level of prestige as The Brits, that will be a win far greater than what The Brits could ever offer. This is one way to force the UK mainstream into really noticing us, because history tells us that when we show we can do it ourselves, the establishment takes notice, and it would make every achievement even more special. It may take a few years for these awards to reach that level but you need only look to America, where the Grammys continuously fail to recognise hip-hop, and with the black community placing more emphasis on the BET Awards, it is gaining more recognition every year.

More and more of the scene’s biggest names (both in music and within the industry) should attend The MOBOs and Rated Awards and big them up, to elevate them to a position that can eventually transcend both the urban scene and the mainstream. Another method would be for urban artists to boycott The Brits, and make their presence felt by not being there at all.

Arguably, the scene gave The Brits some cool factor last night that it otherwise doesn’t have—Skepta’s skanking during “Shutdown”, for example—and not showing up strips the ceremony of its edge, making it just as hollow as its selection process. With that, hopefully more eyes can turn toward the awards that showcase the most thrilling and dominating section of UK music today.

The fact that the most established and the exciting newcomers of the urban scene are all in one roof at these awards should be played up more also, as these are the only shows that can achieve such a union and capture urban music in the finest light. The black community in the UK is a resilient one, able to withstand the greatest of adversities on our own terms.

Grime will live on with or without The Brits, and with The MOBOs and Rated Awards, there are two vehicles through which we can express and rejoice in our greatness in music, in our own way. Last night’s events should serve only to turn heads towards these structures, and show that it’s not the end of the world if The Brits ain’t for us, because there’s always something that is.

What The Return Of Roadside G’s Means For Grime

As featured in Complex UK

January 6, 2017, was a special day for grime.

After the astronomic heights the scene reached in 2016, its purists came down with a severe case of nostalgia when Brixton crew Roadside G’s rolled through to Kenny Allstar’s Radar Radio show. It was a moment everyone dreamed of, but no one could have imagined—the triumphant return of the collective that put South LDN on the map during the heady Channel U days of the scene genesis. Speaking to Kenny on Radar, the present members—Alan B, Dan Diggerz, Smiley, Elmz and Den Den—seemed just as shocked as us at their reunion, explaining how this was the first time all five of them had been in the same room in seven or eight years. A truly unfathomable admission, considering the kinetic chemistry between all of them that was plain to hear (and see).

Transporting back in time even further, however, and the guys on the Roadside were shaping this exciting new thing called grime in its formative years, south of the river, with gritty accounts of life on the roads of Brixton. They proceeded to retell their story of shelling down radio sets and setting the levels high for their peers during the early days, spitting real street rhymes over the most frantic of grime beats—the “first crew” to really touch on such subjects and the difficulties of living the life their rhymes portrayed, completely engulfing them (fellow G’s R.A. and DRz remain in prison). The strides grime has taken has largely passed RSG’s by, but at Radar, they went on to absolutely body their set, sounding as relevant now as they did a decade ago.

Riding classic grime instrumentals and UK drill beats, they rapped vividly and with intensity in front of a giddy Kenny, with some of the best one-liners in recent memory. It was clear they hadn’t missed a step. “We were ten years ahead of our time,” said Diggerz, a statement which spoke volumes once the madness ensued. Immediately, listeners were taken on a journey back to the halcyon days of pirate radio; Radar’s lowkey, visceral environment suited them perfectly and, in Kenny Allstar, they were in the hands of a man who truly understood and was invested, and had taken their journey with them. Roadside G’s also hinted at new material, which could mean this is only the beginning of their return. And, although their lane might not be as niche as it once was, they always brought an originality, a level of conviction and skill, that set them apart from their more illustrious counterparts in East and North London.

Bringing those gully vibes to grime’s commercial stage, at a time when it is at its most popular yet, RSG’s can now reinstall some real legitimacy to the game as far as bars go, and entice a new generation of grime-listening kids who have come for the ride. At this point, though, it isn’t even about that. Listening back to their Radar set, you get a feeling that they felt they had something to prove after years in the wilderness. It silenced any doubts whether they could still go bar-for-bar with grime’s biggest names, and, needless to say, they blew all expectations out of the park. The set proved they could seamlessly blend back into the scene and be one of the best things about it.

In the grand scheme of things, Roadside’s recent shelling was a great trip down memory lane that shook scene nurturers to their core and, hopefully, will have amplified their visibility amongst grime heads old and new. Such an event can only benefit the scene and remind listeners not only of the crew’s greatness but also how, dare I say, grimey, the genre can still be.


My Interview with Dave


As featured in Complex UK

Photos by Courtney Francis

When you sell out your first headline show in under 24 hours, drop one of the tunes of the year with one of your good friends, and have Drake drop some vocals on your song, you know the stars are aligning for you. This is exactly what has happened to south London star Dave, who is coming off the back of a tremendous 2016. The 18-year-old from Streatham is the UK rap scene’s newest hope, dropping deeply intense, personal and introspective lyricism to project a life that has seen its fair share of adversity. In a realm where trap and turn-up rap is the norm, Dave goes against the grain and brings musicality and heart to his every move.

Last September’s brilliant Six Paths EP was a breath of fresh air as he provided a steady balance between melodic rap and hard-hitting live instrumentation (he played the piano throughout the project). Prior to the EP’s release, Dave and AJ Tracey offered up a grime masterclass in “Thiago Silva”, bridging the gap between the scene’s old, gritty style and the abundance of talent within the new generation and showcasing a versatility to his artistry. The icing on the cake came in November, though, when Drizzy took it upon himself to take Dave’s “Wanna Know” and lace it with a couple verses of his own. In what is most definitely a rookie year, he’s notched up a number of achievements that most rappers and musicians aspire to.

Dave has a wisdom beyond his 18 years, which shows in his music and personality. And while he is super grateful for the journey so far, he understands that it’s only the beginning and that he’s just a few moves away from levelling up even more. I caught up with the rising rap star recently, at Foot Locker’s #ItStartsHere event in Shoreditch, London, where he chronicled his musical journey, detailed which of his songs he is most proud of, and which pair of trainers he hates the most.

You’re one of the most hyped and talked-about artists out right now, but what do you think you bring to the music scene?
I don’t know. It would be a bit weird to speak about myself in the third person, but I think I try to bring my own intensity and seriousness about music to the scene. I think, at times, it gets a bit light and trivial and there’s no real depth, but I like to come with a darker, more serious vibe. At the same time though, I like to flip it to things that are completely different. Certain times, it’s just about the vibe, like on “Thiago Silva” and “Wanna Know”, or the concept, like on “Picture Me” and “Panic Attack”.

Would you say you do that differently to any other artist?
I would say my sound is different; like, the type of instrumentation that we use, we’ve made a conscious effort to try and separate ourselves. We do a lot of stuff live, so sonically, we don’t sound like everyone else. For the most part, it’s that, but also lyrics and intensity, and with all that I try to separate myself from everybody else.

How have adjusted to your newfound fame?
I wouldn’t say I’ve adjusted to any kind of fame. It’s just pretty normal support and I appreciate it from everyone. There are certain situations that can be a little bit of a headache, but you have to deal with everything that comes in life. Music makes a slight change and you have to run with it.

So, when you did your Bl@ckbox freestyle, did you imagine it would take you to where you are today?
I had absolutely no idea! I’ve just got to thank God, really. It’s been a huge achievement to get to where we are, but there’s still so much to do. The music scene is ever changing—everyone’s here for a second, and then they’re gone 20 seconds later—so we’re just trying to build a solid foundation and stay here for as long as possible.

What do you think keeps you so grounded as an artist?
Certain people are like that and certain people aren’t. But you just have to stay level-headed, have good friends around you, a good team, and good managers.

How would you describe your musical journey so far?
It’s been exciting; a lot of ups and mids—I wouldn’t say I’ve had crazy downs, though. The downs are only down in comparison to how high the ups are, but it’s funny because it’s been a fun journey, and that’s what it’s about. It’s all about the pressure, the not knowing what’s next, and it’s crazy interesting. There were once things you couldn’t do and, all of a sudden now you can do them—or things that people think you can’t do and then you do them. And then there are things people think you can’t do, and then you just can’t do them. But in every step, I’m just trying to become a better person, a better musician, learn from other musicians—which is crucial—and make the best music possible.

To me, my music always has to reflect my mood and what matters to me. If I’m ever sitting down and trying to make a song for the song’s purpose, then it becomes a job. But when I just sit down and try to narrate what’s going on around me, it just flows naturally and it doesn’t even feel like I’m writing lyrics. I just feel like I’m thinking on a piece of paper and putting it into rhyme and flashy lines in between. If I was to sit down and say, “Argh! You know what? Let me make a song for a party or something that’s emotional”, that’s when it starts to become tiring and you lose inspiration and things start to feel synthetic. So, it’s just keeping that balance and making sure that, at all times, I’m aware that this is more than just a hobby and that I’m taking it as seriously as I can, but also that I can find my genuine interest in what I’m talking about.

And it has to be, and feel, organic.
Yeah, definitely organic.


How did you get into music?  
Just by listening to it, really, and trying to replicate it. Music is a funny thing, because anyone can do it. It’s like sport but different to it at the same time, because you don’t really have to put in a crazy amount of work to get on the same platform that everyone is on. With sport, if you want to be anywhere near a football academy or scouts or the top teams, you have to put in crazy amounts of work and have the right people in your corner. But with music, you can just wake up one day and take a beat off YouTube, which is exactly what I did, and go down to a freestyle platform like a Bl@ckbox—shout out to Bl@ckbox—pay for a freestyle, upload and promote it, and if people like it they can take to you instantly and things can change just like that. That’s what’s so good about it but that’s also what’s so bad about it, because, on the flip side of seeing everybody do well, there’s a crazy over-saturation and headache in music where it’s just super repetitive. So, there’s a good and a bad to it, but that’s how I personally started.

What does being from South London mean to you and how does it shape your artistry?
It’s alright. I wouldn’t say it does anything crazy; it’s just where I’m from and what’s influenced a lot of topics that I talk about. For me as a person, though, it’s just about me. The way I was brought up and the home that I was brought up in, that’s a lot more important to how someone develops as a character. The area is only a little bit of it.

Which artists would you love to collaborate with that you haven’t locked down as yet?
J Hus is really sick, Nines is really sick, Bugzy Malone, Mist—these are four people I rate really highly, because there’s something different to all of them. Those are people I want to collaborate with and may have been speaking to and haven’t mentioned, probably because they’re closer to home. When I hear questions like that, it’s all about people you might not necessarily have direct contact with, and that’s why they seem more elusive. But, you know when you know someone and you can just be in the studio, it’s less exciting to collaborate with them but more accessible, so you’re not thinking in the same way that you need to collaborate with my man. If you know him, you just do it. I guess it goes back to the idea of being organic. It definitely has to be organic. I’m a person who believes in being in the right place, at the right time. So if I’m meant to be around you, it will happen. If people feel your music, they’re going to talk about it, usually. Sometimes they don’t, but you’ll always run into someone if it’s meant to be.

Which of your songs would you say you’re most proud of?
I’ve got a few unreleased songs that I’m really, really happy with. Funnily enough, I have a song called “Samantha” which will probably be the next one I drop. I may have tackled one of the collabs that I’ve been speaking about—I won’t say which one—but it should be interesting to see how it plays out. Hopefully it’s going to be a big song for me. When I sit down and think what song I’m crazy proud of, it would probably be that one… I’m crazy proud of “Thiago Silva” too, though, because it’s an uplifting type of grime song. You know the kind of stuff you can’t really do again? Well, you can, but you can’t get in the same mode or capture the same vibe, that’s “Thiago Silva”. I created “Wanna Know” when I was 15, so seeing that come so far has been great as well. And “Panic Attack”it’s a super in-depth, descriptive, raw and different take on knife crime, and something that is close to home.

I think it was good for me to speak on that type of subject in a way that’s not glorifying it, but is not making it seem distant. A lot of people speak about topics like that and talk down to it and preach to people but, in reality, they’re not in the scenario to be able to give an accurate description of what it’s like to live in that. To have people that are like your friends and enemies turning on you, or to have pride issues, because they’re so removed it doesn’t have the same authenticity. On the flip side, you have people just glorifying it and make it look like that’s what it’s all about. So, I have the kind of neutral standpoint and the ability to float in between the left and the right, the good and the bad, and give the darker side of reality. When I release the music video, it will become more apparent to how important that song is to me, and I think it will be a big moment for me that will capture what we’ve been working so hard on.

On a slightly lighter note, are you a sneakerhead?
Yeah, of course.

Do you remember the first pair of trainers you bought?
I think the first I ever bought were these blue and white, high-top Air Force 1s about four or five years ago. They were like a Size 7 or 8, so they’re gone now.

What are the best pair of trainers you currently own?
I think I love all my trainers equally, but for a while, my favourite pair were the all grey flyknit Air Max 1s—they were reflective and they work with anything. The white flyknit Air Max 1s are a serious pair as well. I’ve got some blue flyknit Air Max 90s as well, and the khaki mid Air Max 90s, and the all black mid Air Max 90s. All very serious pairs. The white and red Air Max flyknits, the khaki Air Max 1 flyknits, the all black Air Max 1 flyknits, the low black Jordan 6’s.

Wow! How many pairs do you actually have?
I wouldn’t say I own that many, you know. It’s all about quality over quantity, so I own around 19-20 pairs of trainers that I can wear any day and feel confident in. I don’t have a shaky pair of trainers; if you’ve got a pair of trainers in your house that you don’t wear, they’re wasted. I’ve got no time for anything in my wardrobe that I’m not wearing or is taking up space.

What are the worst creps you’ve ever seen?
I think AJ [Tracey] had a pair. They were brown and had some kind of Scottish checker thing on them, with blue on the inside, and he called them “the outrageous creps.” [Laughs] I know who gave them to him but they were SHAM-bolic! Dear God.

Things look like they’re heating up for you, but what else do you have planned for 2017?
Just to make more music, more videos, to fly to more places, perform, make new links. We’ve made a whole load of good friends in a lot of good places, so hopefully we can make many more in 2017 and have another year where we can sit back and think, “Wow! This has happened and its skyrocketing.” For me, it’s just about the experiences because they’re what really matter.

What Childish Gambino’s Glo-Up Means to Other Black Nerds

As featured in Noisey

Childish Gambino has come a long way. The man born Donald Glover has gone from nerdy outsider in the rap game to a Golden Globe winner, as the world has opened up to his talents. Not all of us could pull off the transition from largely derided rapper to master of funk (as confirmed with new album Awaken, My Love!), via an absurdist humour TV show – one of 2016’s best. But he was making a more personal impact on his fans years before.

Rewind, for a moment, to 2011. I was a 19-year-old kid on the brink of adulthood, not entirely comfortable in my own skin, when my interest in Glover sparked. Listening to rap and attending an all-boys school in South East London dominated by my hyper-masculine black peers pulled me in one direction, before I was turned the other way when I moved to a predominantly white sixth-form college. There, checked shirts, skinny jeans and crop tops were the norm. I contorted myself to fit into each social environment, attempting to turn my blackness up in school for the acceptance of the majority, while toning it down to prevent intimidating my white counterparts in sixth-form. Earl Sweatshirt summed it up best on 2013’s “Chum“, as being “too black for the white kids and too white for the blacks”.

But 2011 was also the year when Glover released his debut, Camp. Listening to it, his vocals spoke to a similar sense of social anguish. He’d also grown up in a world where he was picked apart for being a little… different. He didn’t fit the traditional young black male stereotype cemented in decades of American pop culture, instead rhyming and singing with a cadence that may not have been considered “manly”. He made references to cult TV shows Freaks and Geeks and Firefly and experimented with EDM. Glover himself was aware of his position, saying in a 2011 interview that “for a long time music was black or white, but now there’s people like Tyler, the Creator making a huge impact. Like me, he’s a middle-class black kid that dressed like a member of Good Charlotte and got called a faggot. I got jumped once simply for having a skateboard.”

Not everyone loved the album. You may remember Camp picking up a 1.6 rating in Pitchfork, in what still feels like a mind-boggling review that accused Glover of using “heavy topics like race, masculinity, relationships, street cred, and ‘real hip-hop’ as props to construct a false outsider persona”. But they weren’t hearing the same story I had. Glover’s weirdness was often read as weakness or an inability to articulate a coherent message, and a major indie publication refuting his multifaceted persona felt like a rejection of being black and weird.

He paid it no mind, though, regrouping for 2013’s Because the Internet – a beautiful, strange and cinematic album that showed where things had changed. Glover sounded emboldened, but his anguish bellowed too. He was an awkward soul, flitting from one identity to another both in life and on record, because it was obvious he was in pain. Similarly, as is the case with so many other kids who grow up with interests that fall outside people’s assumptions, I continued to try and maintain a balance between “too black” and “not black enough”.

Talking to Noisey in 2013, Glover sounded at his darkest: “I tried to kill myself. I was really fucked up… I didn’t feel like I knew what I was doing. I wasn’t living up to my standard, I was living up to other people’s standards, and I just said ‘I don’t see the point’.” People have always attached themselves to music’s misfits in the past, clinging onto their idiosyncrasies for comfort. You only need to look at how fans mourned David Bowie and Prince last year; how they idolised and repackaged the punk aesthetic of The Sex Pistols, The Slits and The Ramones; how they still flock to see Madonna, Springsteen and Iggy Pop, to understand that we gravitate towards people who turn our assumptions on their heads. The “tortured artist” has become cliche because, somewhere at some point, it was rooted in reality. Artists battling inner conflict drew people in.

Addressing his issues only made Glover stronger, and his music became a backdrop onto which he could project the chaos in his head. You can hear it in full, wailing flow on “II. Earth: The Oldest Computer (the Last Night)” and buzzing on “II. Zealots of Stockholm [Free Information]”, both off Because the Internet. It felt like an epiphany for me, where I realised that being unlike what people think you should isn’t a bad thing. Critics took note too, commending Glover’s dedication to the album’s cause, while still accusing him of trying too hard to stand out. This wasn’t him trying – his natural tendency to be different stemmed from the fact that he was different.

Glover laid low for the next few years, carefully crafting what would become FX TV series Atlanta. The show reimagines the boundaries for black American TV – in good company, with the likes of Insecure and Black-ish – and lays out the stereotypes Glover has had to fight while projecting an alternative reality. As a general plot summary, Glover’s character Earn Marks stands on the fringes of success and hip-hop society before becoming the manager of his rapper cousin Paper Boi – and that doesn’t even begin to touch on the comedic devices, bizarre twists and underlying surreality the show develops.

Then we come to the present day and Glover’s December 2016, rap-free album, Awaken, My Love!. Writing for Noisey, Israel Daramola deemed it an album that “feels more like, well, an awakening. Its heavy use of Funkadelic and Sly Stone instrumentation, Bootsy’s wobbly singing style, and high-pitched Prince wails are in service to the love, hopefulness, and, of course, fears about bringing a new life into the world” – alluding to Glover’s recent new role as a dad. The alienated kid from Camp has grown to subvert the various definitions of blackness through his music, slipping from the firm grip of his critics again. He’s shapeshifted once more.

So here I am, aged 25 now, and able to say that Glover empowered me to just be me. Unapologetically. As with all identities our cultures create, there are levels to being black. And, whether you subscribe to the hyper-masculine image of black people that rap overwhelmingly projects, or an alternative kid that isn’t really that, Glover’s evolution has given a voice to those black freaks and geeks who’ve felt they had to compromise who they were for acceptance. But when you learn to throw those assumptions aside, you really kickstart the sort of journey Glover has made. You quiet the voices urging you to be this way or that. You learn to just do you.


I hope 2017 is treating you all super duper.

Just wanted to share my first writings of the year, this time for Complex UK, in a piece called ‘Ones To Watch: 13 British Emcees Destined For A Big 2017’. Watch out for these artists making an impact this year!



The Birmingham rap scene has a new representative in Mist. Quickly becoming one of the premier rappers outside of London last year—helped massively by the hard-as-hell and super catchy track “Karla’s Back”—his low and gruffly voice is now instantly recognisable and almost iconic in the sphere of UK rap.

2016 was Mist’s oyster as he shut down shows across the country and got nominated for a few major awards. And, if you ever wanted a detailed and cinematic account of life on the streets of 0121, look no further than his breakout project M I S to the T. Expect Mist to reach higher heights in 2017.


Dapz On The Map


If you follow grime in the Midlands heavy, the name Dapz On The Map should come as no surprise. Hailing from West Bromwich, Dapz has been on his grind for a good half-decade, but grew into his own last year with a number of stellar releases. “Oh My Days”, “Shinobi Part 1” and “Champion Champion” showcased a hungry and melodic emcee with a wisdom that sets him apart from his peers.

Blessed with an ability to switch his flow and cadence effortlessly, Dapz On The Map continues to demonstrate his varied abilities on record and has big fans in Skepta and Kano because of it.




It feels a bit strange including a lyricist who’s been at it for a good few years but, after a lot of grafting and making a name for himself across the country, Eyez is now ready for the next level.

Born and raised in Derby, he’s repped his city to the fullest on his journey to recognition, with his Mind The Gap mixtape (released last year via Red Bull Studios) being the clearest indicator that the kid’s got bars. In a musical landscape that’s more accepting of non-London rhymers than ever before, Eyez has bided his time in the dungeons of Derby and is now in line to become a household grime name.