Guess who’s back?
This is the sound of the Midlands.
Hip-hop as a genre is still developing; it is unique because success in taking it further depends on your ability to get inside what is currently hot, replicate it and thus prove that you have the right credentials.
However crazy your stylo may be, you have to be able to walk before you can run.
Subversion is the name of the game; if you are purveying an anti-gangsta flow, it is necessary to flow in the gangsta style before taking the game a step further (by turning it on its head in whatever creative ways you have up your sleeve). Thus, your peace vibe is respected: if you don’t ground your flow this way, it comes like a necessity borne from lack of skills on the mic. You need to be saying “Yeah, yeah, that gangsta shit is alright, but I can do it standing on my head”. Then you rock the mic, and if you’re good, the party along with it.
Thus, there is much about ‘The Silencer LP’ that echoes the nineties styles of Shimm’s U.S. influences. He’s a lover, not a fighter. O.K. - he’s a player – one with an awesome amount of front if these tracks are anything to go by - and there are times when his ego runs riot during this pretty solid debut. We follow his adventures as he woos and lays the lay-dees, and note along the way that most of the conventions of US gangsta rap are present and correct – from skits and samples to odes to his mum and autobiographical recollections
The attention to detail is at first impressive: The harpsichord loops and operatic FX of ‘The Story So Far’ and ‘Up Your Game’ are essential to the dark, violent tales of everyday struggle. Shimm’s capacity to flip tracks is outrageous – ‘Real Talk’ makes a mockery of the ‘This is one for the lay-dees’ part of the show. The totally “out of order” flow is punctuated by the naughty giggles of his homies, who themselves retain enough presence of mind to wince frequently at the record’s stinking and explicit hook line.
I don’t think the ladies will need to refer to feminist theory to express their disgust at this snot-blowingly funny falsetto, but if he ain’t too scared to say “‘Hoe” at the shows, then for the moment we must stand in awe of his front.
Shimm has enough presence of mind to ask what all the fuss is about two tunes later, in the “Don’t hate me, participate” ditty ‘What’s Goin’ on’. If your GCSE’s or SAT’s are cause for concern, then hear the Shimmer demonstrate enjambement during a shrug-off of the accusations I can already hear foaming and frothing from the mouths of everyone, everywhere. Remixed later on in the collection, the
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reprisal is more welcome, with the crew restoring order following on from a loss of form lasting four or five tracks. The West Midlands twang is brave, but at times his flow is weak (‘Beer Monster’/ ‘Silence’)
The skits, courtesy of ‘Robbie Radio’ are amusing though: “He thinks he’s hot. And he’s not” twangs a Brum gum chewing schooly over a piled up overload of similar complaints from the Robbie FM airwaves. The inevitable answerphone also features, warning us again never to leave messages on a rapper’s machine.
‘Get This’ opens with a wood-chiming taste of the orient, and the cry of “Get This…………..Bitch”. Oh dear. Yet his rhyme slows down mockingly to goad the competition, and speeds up once more to demonstrate a decent level of lyrical dexterity.
And there are solid straight up moments of quality. “Party” draws upon what is now called ‘Old Skool’ dance music to ask for decorum, lest the fairer sex be discouraged from sticking around by the guns. All good, part tongue in cheek, designed to outrage. No doubt it will.
His infuriating catchphrase ‘Breathe Easy’ is just as likely to raise a smile. ‘Bobby’s outro’, the final track, is a wisely-added disqualifier. It urges the kids ‘not to try this at home’.
It’s a Jekyll and Hyde tale of hit n’miss for Shimm, but his neck has been stuck out far enough to make you think twice about chopping his head off with your Samurai. Peace.
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