#Culture
My thoughts on GSAP… A month on
Here we are, a month on from Stormzy’s first album release and the dust has now settled. Perfect.
Almost immediately after Stormzy dropped his album, I did feel somewhat compelled to share some of my thoughts on it. Initially, I thought it was going to be in the form of a review, just like my last post, so I approached it in the same way; play the album at every available opportunity — on the train to and from work, during car journeys, when I’m at home — then write. However, the more I listened, the more I felt a connection with the album. But not in a corny-kinda-cheesy way.
I’m sure that most, like myself, weren’t too sure of what to expect when we heard that Stormzy had plans to drop an album. I, for one, had countless debates — most of them quite heated — on whether he would be able to produce a good body of music, as opposed to the consistently-fire freestyles he had previously released. Songs like Shut Up, Standard and Scary were cool n’all but I didn’t want to sit through an album's worth of them.
That being said, with the weight of expectation resting firmly on his shoulders, I think ‘Grime’s Golden Child’ did more than deliver. He actually exceeded all of my expectations. In fact, I think it will be unfair and lazy to simply label Stormzy a ‘grime artist’ henceforth.
What I experienced on GSAP was a multifaceted artist expressing himself through Grime, Hip-Hop, RnB and Gospel too. As he said on Mr Skeng “I do rap then I do grime then I do rap, then I sing and I roll right back”. He purposefully used each of these genres to convey particular messages, and the execution of it was damn near perfect. The album is vulnerable (Lay Me Bear) yet harsh (Shut Up), endearing (Blinded by Your Grace) yet venomous (Big for Your Boots) and an embodiment of the culture that birthed it.
A few of my favourite tracks were:
Cold
I remember when Stormzy previewed this one last year at Swedish Festival ‘Way out West’. The 45 second clip was all I needed to know that Stormz had yet another hit in the pipeline. Now that we have finally been blessed with the full audio and a video to accompany it, I’m convinced its the hit I thought it would be. The energetic and catchy Cold is vintage Stormz and is one of the songs I cannot wait to hear shut down every festival this summer.
Bad Boys (feat. Ghetts & J Hus)
Stormzy’s cultural engagement on the album was so spot on. The true child of Grime he is, he used one of the most culturally important moments in Grime as the skit for Bad Boys. I know I’m not the only one who remembers telling someone to “Ask Carlos!” in the playground for months, if not years, after the original clip was released. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he ended up making reference to Keisha the Sket at some point!
The song sees Stormzy and Ghetts rapping about their stripes earned and confirming their bad boy status. But what I love most about this song is J Hus. The tough and aggressive bars of Stormz and Ghetts were perfectly complimented by Hus’ infectious and melodic hook. A month later and I’m still singing “came wearing a flat cap looking like somebody’s father”.
Blinded By Your Grace, pt. 1 and 2
I love how Stormzy bravely tried his hand at singing the whole way through two of the most daring songs on the album. I won’t stretch it and say his singing was amazing, but I was touched. Every so often when a rapper decides he or she wants to sing, we have come to expect their vocals to be severely complemented (drowned out) by much stronger backing vocals or an extremely forgiving instrumental. But clearly Stormzy wasn’t having it. He showed me that you don’t have to be a professional singer to take it to church one time. I can’t lie, I almost dropped a grown man tear the first time I heard Part 2. Those last 40 seconds were special.
Velvet/Jenny Francis (Interlude)
This one went straight into the slow jams playlist! The track that is as smooth as the title suggests. Stormzy had me mistaking him for a seasoned R&B artist for a hot second on this one. The down-tempo, NAO-sampled instrumental put me in the mood for a real chilled night in with bae.
Around the same time I was asking man ‘Where’s Carlos?’, I was also tuning into Choice FM, which at the time was the only mainstream radio station that played our music. The sound of Jenny Francis’ voice on the outro of Velvet sparks nostalgia and I’m instantly thrown back to her ‘Slow Down Zone’.
100 Bags
Blessings from Mama Stormzy! It is clear how much of an influence Stormzy’s mum is on where he is today. We first saw her in the video to Know Me From and now she appears again on the album with a short prayer. There are fewer things more powerful than a mother’s prayer and this is evidenced in his success. Something about hearing a prayer in an African accent had me saying Amen without thinking about it. It was like a reflex.
Amidst thanking God throughout the album, Stormzy also found time to spare some of that gratitude for his mother. Where I come from, the culture places huge emphasis on honouring parents and Stormzy did this in a way only he could. I was touched.
Lay Me Bare
Stormzy leaves it till the very last track on GSAP to literally lay himself bare on what I think is his most personal and vulnerable song to date. He reveals to us the inner battles he was fighting whilst on hiatus last year. I can literally hear his pain as he speaks on losing his faith, falling into depression, and his relationship with his estranged father. I hope writing this emotionally fuelled song provided the therapy he needed.
Stormzy took me on a journey of emotions throughout this album. He gave me hella energy on Cold, made me wanna go and do road on Bad Boys, filled me with the Spirit on Blinded by Your Grace, gave me a renewed sense of gratitude on 100 Bags, and inspired me to open up more on Lay Me Bare. Experiencing this whirlwind of emotions forced me to appreciate just how much of a good body of music this album really was.
The first thing I loved about the aptly titled Gang Signs and Prayer was the recurring theme that ran throughout. Over the last few weeks, I’ve heard some people say the album seems to contradictorily praise God in one song and then talk about violence in the next. For me, as a young black man who grew up in a Christian home and also in not-so-affluent neighbourhoods, that’s what made the album more relatable.
On GSAP, Stormzy perfectly illustrated the duality of navigating through the challenges of growing up in uninspiring environments (Gang Signs) whilst also trying to walk in faith (Prayer), giving voice to people like myself. I once remember being in church every Sunday morning by 10:00 am ready for the start of service. But then Monday to Saturday I would be out doing things I dare not write about. That’s still my reality *sigh*. Anyway! How I feel about the album’s concept was perfectly put by Marley.
I found it amazing how Stormzy could purposefully place songs like Bad Boys and Mr Skeng alongside songs Blinded by Your Grace part 1 and 2 without the album losing its direction.
What I also enjoyed about the album was his willingness to address tough social issues in his own way. Just before his album dropped, he appeared on ‘The Last Leg’ chat show and spoke on an incident which involved the police mistaking him for a burglar in his own home. The interviewer bluntly asked him if he felt it was fuelled by racism and his answer left a lot of people disappointed. Most were expecting a militant reply, but Stormzy exercised wisdom and seemingly avoided tackling the question. Instead, he stuck to what he knew best and addressed his feelings on race relations in his music, using an example that would hit closer to home. Not all of us have police mistaking us for burglars in our own house right? On First Things First, he addressed the issue of West End nightclubs — who mostly use music from black artists to attract its audiences — using racist door policies to disallow young black people into its clubs. He takes a stand by suggesting we — as he does — avoid attending these clubs and stop giving them our money. As you could imagine, somebody of Stormzy’s fame is not likely to be a victim of racist door policies, and so probably didn’t have to come out and say anything. In fact, many people prior to him have stayed suspiciously mute about the issue and have even continued to party there despite blatant racism. What I love about Stormzy, which is also reflected throughout his album, is that he refuses to allow his celebrity status to detach him from our shared reality. He’s still one of us.
Continuing in that fashion, he also decided to tackle the issue of mental health in our community, by courageously coming out as a sufferer of depression himself. What Stormzy does so well on GSAP is humanise the face of males in the grime/UK urban music scene, who are often criticised for glorifying violence. Sure, there’s violence in the neighbourhoods. Sure, it might sometimes be expressed in the music. But then there’s also a softer, more vulnerable side that is consistently overlooked. It’s almost dehumanising. The way Stormzy uses his position on the album to shed light on issues of racism and mental health, in a society where so many young black people, just like myself, fall victim, inspired me to be more proactive with my struggles and with others around me. It’s about time we had a real spokesman in our community who tries to break negative stereotypes by addressing issues that desperately need addressing and influencing us to make positive changes. In this interview with Channel 4 News he candidly details his experience with depression: here.
I can admit I wasn’t always a Stormzy believer. In fact, I was a Stormzy hater. I never understood the hype around him and what made him so special. I heard what everyone had to say about him but I just wasn’t convinced. After all, there were artists like Ghetts, Wretch and Chip, who rightly deserved their place at the top of the scene. But it finally hit me when I listened back to a song called ‘Layer Cake’ from one of my favourite UK rappers, Kano:
Kano detailed the hardships of being one of the first artists from our scene to somewhat taste mainstream success. He spoke about struggling to get radio play, being put in a ‘grime artist’ box, not making much money and not being able to compete in the charts. All of this was from somebody I considered as one of the best in our scene. Now, when I look at Stormzy’s position 10 years on from that song, I get it! GSAP went to number 1, Shut Up went platinum and boasts over 40 Million YouTube Views, I can’t turn on the radio without hearing Big For Your Boots 10 times a day. Hang on… I really said Shut Up went PLATINUM! Do you know how mad that is?
These stats and figures are evidence of exactly what Crazy Titch spoke about on his Interlude. As one of the forefathers of Grime, he correctly prophesied that Stormzy was about to take it from a 2nd rate genre to a 1st rate genre, and that is exactly what we are witnessing. When last was an artist from the scene this highly requested to do interviews on mainstream telly? When last did they perform with pop megastars at the Brit Awards? When last did they sell out a nationwide major venue tour within minutes? Exactly.
It’s safe to say that I stand corrected. GSAP is one of the best bodies of work that has come out of the UK, let alone our scene. The eclectic variety of music on it ensures there is a song for any and every mood, and guarantees the album can be played over and over without ever getting boring. In the midst of all the emotions, it still impressively manages to stand as a cohesive project, with a very potent theme running throughout it.
A month has passed since the album has dropped, and plenty of other artists have also dropped since then, but I find myself still bumping it on the train to and from work, during car journeys and when I’m at home. With that being said..
Thank you Stormz.
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