More rambling then reviewing, but all the same.
When I first moved to Lewisham in my pre-teens, the only access I had to Grime was my radio and one local record shop. I think sometimes people underestimate the reality of how important tape-swapping was back then (we're talking early noughties) and from a small bedroom in South East London with limited internet access, it was impossible to pick up stations such as Heat FM, where Skepta once held his own slot. Independence Records was a stone throw away from where I was living and it was there I grabbed my first Skepta vinyl and met someone who could provide me with all the tapes I wanted and more. The Tottenham born MC had a flow that was different for me at the time: not as blisteringly assaulting as say, Ghetto's, but far more assertive and commanding than the likes of Trim, encapsulating a seriousness not seen in Garage. This is as cliché as I'll ever sound, but who in their right mind would imagine that over ten years later, Skepta would be on the brink of securing a number one album?
The build-up for Konnichiwa has been a much drawn out yet compelling period. As frequently noted by various journalistic outlets during the waiting time, Skepta has evolved as an artist immensely, binning the awful pop attempts and reverting back to the much sought after Grime icon [this is best summarised via this article on Dazed]. Unlike the commercial world where artists tend to vanish in between big releases, we've had the Blacklisted & Tim Westwood mix tapes to fill the void between this album and 2011's Doin It Again, with no less than five singles off of the album to wet our appetites. Three of the five, in my mind, are instant classics. I outlined in this article for Complex UK the importance of Shutdown and That's Not Me and whilst Man might not carry the same social significance, it's another anthem which exhibits the stripped-back "tracksuit mafia" persona of Skepta that suits him a little better than the American influenced side.
It discomforts me indulging in the over-categorising of music and it's irritating to further resurrect the time-old arguments of what Grime is and isn't, so I'll relay my thoughts like this: if you're the sort who craves for one-hundred percent Grime bangers, then barring (the quite incredible) Lyrics, you've heard the best of Konnichiwa already. Should you find yourself just wanting to enjoy a body of music, rap-tinted tracks included, you'll be replaying the whole album for a while. I'll think about those points whilst trying not to remain somewhere lost in the middle, all the while belting out the hook for It Ain't Safe at an absurd volume, but racing to the skip button just at the thought of the Pharrell assisted Numbers.
"Boy Better Know man went to the Brits on the train / think it's a game? / man shutdown Wireless then walked home in the rain"Features and nostalgic references during the album don't come any bigger than on my personal favourite Lyrics. "lyrics for lyrics calm" is extracted from a brief audio clip of the heated [2001] exchange between Pay As You Go and Heartless Crew, one of the moments that I firmly believe birthed the scene we love. In the way Pay As You Go (albeit more specifically Wiley) paved the way for Skepta, the North Londoner has played a big part in the rise of young MC Novelist, so it's of little surprise that Nov's supporting role on the track becomes one of the bigger highlights, with his hungry approach embodying the spirit we commonly associate with the best emerging talents and his smooth skipping on the track evoking memories of an early D Double E...
There are points on this album where I do ask whether Skepta is being as wilfully obscure as made out, with Numbers being a prime example. Is he really comfortable being that laid back? Or is he using Pharrell's name to over emphasise the magnitude of the pirate radio-to-Drake narrative that Konnichiwa aims to showcase? Both are capable of producing music greatly superior but in honesty, besides the needless skits at the close of promising tracks such as Corn On The Cob and Crime Riddim, there is quite little to moan about on the album.
There are more glimpses of the Skepta I alluded to in the opening paragraph on this album then there has been for a very long time. Whilst there may be a certain dissonance between the UK and US sounds, it's more of a welcome blend as opposed to a vulgar clash and for the first time ever, Skepta has delivered an album that guarantees replay value. Comparison is often a poor way of appraising music, but in the year where Kano drops the sure to be perpetually amazing Made In The Manor and Wiley hinting at something possibly as huge, Skepta manages to confidently weigh-in a titanic effort, rescuing his legacy amongst the Grime all-stars.
