Loyle Carner releases a nigh on faultless slice of hip-hop perfection. 

A few years ago it looked like UK hip-hop’s sun was setting. The list of artists who were releasing great music was dwindling, and all the names and groups that had been lauded, were almost all gone due to industry cutbacks and releasing weak albums. Then, as usually happens, it all changed and UK hip-hop started to get exciting and vibrant again. Songs were coming out that were as ground breaking as Black Radical MKII’s ‘Monsoon’. One of this new brand of artists is Loyle Carner. Growing up in London as grime was slowly seeping into society really shaped Carner’s lyrical outlook, but musically he’s more old school. It’s this mixing of styles that really puts him in his own league.

What Carner does, that most musicians find it hard to do, is to get his point over quickly and make you feel what he is on about. After a few bars you get what the track is about, musically, and then after the first verse you know exactly what Carner is driving at. This is very much apparent on ‘No CD’. After a massive Led Zep-esque guitar riff, Carner goes straight into the chorus “Oh please, We ain’t got no P’s, because we spent all our money on old CDs. It’s like, On please, We ain’t got no P’s, because we spent all our money on old CDs. We say, On please, we ain’t got no P’s, because we spent all our money on old CDs. We got some old Jay-Z’s, some ODB’s, placed them up in perfect order, because of my OCD, won’t let me keep it.” After this intro the track puts it’s foot down and let’s rip. Backed by a huge beat and more classic guitar riffs. Then just when you thought you had the track worked out producer Rebel Kleff pops up. Kleff appears about halfway through and drops some great verses, as well as the beats, that really tie the whole thing together. I dare you to play this back-to-back and not get the chorus stuck in your head.

On ‘Ain’t Nothing Changed’, Carner re-imagines the blueprint that De La Soul and Gang Starr laid down; jazz and soul samples over tight crisp beats, while he talks about his life. This is a life most people can relate to, post-uni life, working for money for your family rather than yourself, and no matter how hard you work nothing really changes. The most impressive facet of Carner’s style is how his songs are chocked full of passion and emotion, but he possess none of the masculine posturing that dominates the scene. And this is incredibly refreshing. ‘Ain’t Nothing Changed’ has pretty much everything. Moondog-esque sample, Guru’s jazzmatazz vibe and dynamic lyrics that conjure images as clear as a photo. This is UK ‘Daisy Age’ for 2017. If there was ever doubt about Carner’s abilities and skills this proves it yet again. His flows are smooth, his rhymes tight and his ability has only been hinted at.

‘Stars and Shards’ opens with a laid-back laconic guitar riff, until Carner’s vocals and drums kick in and then we’re off. Again it’s another slice of social commentary about low-rent characters who feel as real as anything in the Penguin Classics or that the RSC perform. As ‘Stars & Shards’ continues the tension is raised through the combination of Carner’s wordplay, and the dexterous instrumentation. This is what Carner does better than most of his peers. He limits the elements in his songs, a few instruments and a ‘simple’ track. But through this less-is-more approach he makes the listener pay more attention to what is going on, rather than bombarding us with a thousand channels of beats, bass, blips and beeps. Through focusing us thus, we get the message/moral of his story quicker as we don’t have to fight over bass drops and ‘clever’ production techniques. As Carner says himself “Bringing the south back without trap”. The album closes with ‘Sun of Jean’. The real highlight of this track is Carner’s mum’s verse/poem at the end. She says the thing that every mum feels about their children, and what’s more important is that it feels heartfelt and pure, rather than something taped to the end of a song.

It’s not all sparse instrumentation and razor sharp lyrics, ‘+44’ shows that Carner can deliver on his own. Due to the lyrical content, sending a text you shouldn’t to someone you shouldn’t, is something we can all relate to and through his deadpan delivery every word feels like a hammer to the psyche. However like all classic hip-hop albums there are some skits. Usually skits are unfunny, cringe and don’t make much sense, can you think of another genre where jokes are intentionally inserted between serious tracks? ‘Swear’ and ‘Rebel 101’ however offer an insight into Carner’s life. ‘Swear’ is a conversation between Carner and his mum about swearing and who corrupted who first.

Yesterday’s Gone contains all the elements to be a landmark album. Catchy pop hooks, tight beats and exceptional samples. Where Carner excels is when, through his exquisite wordplay, he puts us in the exact moment he’s describing. Whether we have seen the exact events take place is by the by, what is important is that we can relate to it. Either because we have all either seen or experienced similar. His unflinching social commentary marks him apart from his peers. However the most impressive thing about Yesterdays Gone, is that it feels that Carner hasn’t broken a sweat, and he’s still got more rhythms and stories left in his lyrical arsenal. But as I’ve been saying for a long time Loyle Carner is one to watch, it looks like everyone is starting to wake up and pay attention with this flawless album.
Nick Roseblade

Website: loylecarner.com
Facebook: facebook.com/LoyleCarner
Twitter: twitter.com/loylecarner