EVERY GENRE PROJECT - January 30 - UK Drill

Genre of the Day - UK Drill

Album of the Day - Alpha Place by Knucks (2022)

January 30, 2024

As an American, there is perhaps nothing greater than taking the piss out of the British. To me, UK pop culture both feels otherworldly yet hyper-real because the UK feels like the closest parallel to the US as the other biggest English-speaking power and cultural influence, even as our cultural progenitor. (If not for Joni Mitchell, Canada would be a true nothingburger.) In my mind historically, I always felt as if the UK takes notes from our music more than we do theirs; further reflection reveals the exchange is probably a little more equal. How many millions of American bands have tried to emulate the Beatles? Could the teen-pop explosion of the millennium have happened without the candy-coated enthusiasm of the Spice Girls? How many female R&B singers and rappers have tried to evoke the gentle coolness of Sade?

Nonetheless, there’s just a humorous undertone in all of our reactions to the Brits: UK drill is far from an exception. Few people my age have not chuckled at Central Cee’s nonsensical bars—“How can I be homophobic? My bitch is gay”—and the viciously memeified reaction to the reveal of 21 Savage being revealed as a UK national speaks volumes about our thoughts on the redcoats when it comes to their rap credibility.

While we laugh, though, British rappers have quietly mastered new sounds and flavors, drawing on the vast array of global influences on Black British music culture to make a drill sound that’s all their own. It makes sense that the British would be friendly to this sound: when I think of British musical creativity in the past few decades, it’s often pioneering grittier, subtler, chillier and darker sounds that don’t always click as well in the US (DnB, jungle, grime, hardcore). As I listened to today’s #1 RYM album, Alpha Place by Knucks, it seems UK drill is no exception, incorporating grime elements while maintaining a melancholic, moody, at times jazzy feel while developing distinctive flows narrating the triumphs and struggles of the streets of London. 

Despite the wide range of collaborators here, Knucks’ consistent ability to deliver flows and weave tales that feel effortless is the highlight. He’s casually boastful while paying homage to the diaspora (I might catch a flight to the coast that made me / The diamonds from Naij’ and the gold is from Haiti). He indulges in his more vulnerable side, mourning past losses (But the same year Lz's cousin, my other G / Died in crash, blud, imagine the fuckery) and detailing romantic highs and lows on the excellent back-and-forth of Checkmate. Close to his skill is a rapper is his talent as a beat selector: familiar, but not over-utilized samples shine as flipped here, such as Erykah Badu’s masterpiece Green Eyes on opener Alpha House and Kali Uchis’ atmospheric la luna enamorada on Decisions. He occasionally wades into overexploited riffs—surely there’s other mournful violin riffs than Reflections. Overall, though, when you get past giggling at the Britishisms (no other rap scene would produce bars that rhyme Camden with mandem), Knucks makes a compelling case for why UK drill’s growing influence is merited.