By now, goofy Brighton hip hop duo Rizzle Kicks have crashed enough chat show sets and radio studios to imprint their cigarette paper-inspired name on the consciousness of a nation, but the 21-year-old mavericks are in a unique position in that the average media consumer probably couldn’t name one of their songs.
The hopeful journey from Soccer AM regulars to superstardom is something that comes up a lot on Jordan “Rizzle” Stephens and Harley “Sylvester” Alexander-Sule’s genre-hopping second album Roaring 20s. Peppy pop carnival ‘Jam Yourself’ finds them exorcising their money-grabbing demons (one asks, “what about the champagne and the girl that’ll twirl?”, the other answers, “it’ll taste so much better if you’ve earned it yourself”), while horn-blasting lead single ‘Lost Generation’ is a cutting critique of modern-day narcissism, including the desperate scrabble for fame, which they slag in typically cheeky style (“When I heard people buy views, I was more confused than all John Terry’s black friends”).
Of course, Rizzle Kicks are rhyming from half-way up the celebrity ladder, far behind their mates Ed Sheeran and Olly Murs, but with the profits of a million singles in the bank, and views of some of their tracks tipping into eight figures on YouTube. At this stage, it’s crucial that they step up their sound, and these 13 nuggets of ska and reggae-influenced cartoon rap, sometimes quite literally (‘I’m a Teenage Mutant Ninja frickin’ genius’) are, if not the stuff of Grammy-destined major players, a valiant attempt at shaking things up in the charts.
Through brassy arrangements, danceable rhythms and plenty of catchy colloquialisms (see insatiable Norman Cook-aided anthem ‘Put Your Twos Up’), they’ve come up with a thoughtful, tuneful, light-hearted review of 21st Century twentysomething life.
At their best, Rizzle Kicks deliver high-energy, scratch-laden, nu-reggae jams (‘Wind Up’) and emotionally-transparent, Jamie T-esque oddities (‘Me Around You’). At their worst, they almost become the impatient chart-chasers they so brilliantly rip the piss out of (case in point, ‘Skip To The Good Bit’, which borrows brazenly from EMF’s ‘Unbelievable’)… almost. At least we’re guaranteed a few laughs along the way.