Stormzy: Gang Signs & Prayer review – London’s new grime lord

Several cycles on from its inception, grime has finally begun reaping its rewards as one of the defining sounds of UK youth, a fiercely local innovation with potentially global reach. Or it had been, until the Brits inexcusably decided to ignore the genre once again.

Following recent milestone LPs by scene elders – Skepta (the Mercury-winning Konnichiwa), Kano and Wiley – all eyes are now on the younger set. In anticipation of debuts by those still in, or barely out of, their teens – AJ Tracey, Novelist, Dave et al – the genre’s heir apparent is universally held to be south London’s Stormzy. On an interlude on Gang Signs & Prayer, Stormzy’s debut album, veteran MC Crazy Titch – who, in his 30s, admits he isn’t entirely sure what a hashtag is – reckons “Stormzy has to be [The Matrix’s protagonist] Neo… this kid has to be seeing the games in zeros and ones. It’s not normal.”

At 23, Stormzy is young enough to have had his life path opened up by Dizzee Rascal’s Boy in Da Corner (2003); you can hear it. Standing 6ft 5in, the man born Michael Omari has a naturally deep rumble. But he MCs in a hyperactive yelp that goes from real umbrage to the self-righteous half-squeak patented by the young Dizzee.

Just listen to the way Stormzy camply hiccups the word “bewts” on Big for Your Boots, a swaggering standout hit full of medieval-style choral stabs and sped-up samples. Outrage is very much grime’s default mode, but Stormzy is particularly good at it. First Things First takes offence at, among other things, an LBC report in which he was blamed for promoting knife crime (“I don’t use a shank/ I got money in the bank,” Stormzy scoffs; “Dickheads!”), while the self-evident Shut Up – first released in 2015 – smacks down pretenders with a mixture of presence and humour.

But Stormzy’s old enough and canny enough to have tucked a Mobo under his belt, and diversified out of diss tracks and grandstanding into singing (on Velvet, and Cigarettes & Cush, which features Kehlani) and invoking the grace of God (Blinded By Your Grace, parts 1 and 2). These are bold steps out of genre strictures and not always successful. While the faster, more aggressive tracks combine icy digitals with Stormzy’s flawless sense of rhythm – Cold is a particularly busy tour de force – the tracks in which he is expressing regret, affection or religiosity lean far too much on cliche – string sections, 70s keyboard soul.

Lay Me Bare, however, ties the album off with Stormzy raging against his absent father and remembering the death of a friend with just the right balance of starkness and musicality; the best, perhaps, of both worlds.