Found it difficult to hear most of the album over the intrusive promotional sound bites and the usual fanfare and shocking self-aggrandizement shite bubbling over the lot like some hyper ‘Mike’s Carpet’ fella. Don’t tell me you’ve arrived Mr Klasnekoff – show me. Anyway, here’s the tussle, not for reproduction and not for the faint hearted. Hackey-born and based MC and Rapper and founding member of the Terra Firma Crew calls for equality and personal responsibility, criticising his generation’s current apathy and deferral of blame across 17 tracks, rumbling along in a slo-mo, pitbull fashion, chomping at the world and all its contemptible and corruptible citizens with the usual stop-start soul sound breaks and jittering hi-hats. And though not half as gritty as it could be (there’s too much gloss) it does occasionally get dirty.
Lashing out at high-rise tyranny with even loftier ambitions.