Danny Brown - Old

Like A$AP Rocky, Danny Brown is one of those guys who I was told to watch out for around 2011 and - although I downloaded a few mixtapes - never quite bothered to listen to fully. I do apologise, Mr. Brown (or Mr. Sewell, but I feel more comfortable using stage names). Then I came (behave) quite late (as in late 2012) to XXX. And I really liked it. I can't quite say the same for A$AP. So, third time around, I'm diving straight in. And this time there's a lot to look forward to: there are more collaborations, some with artists I really love (Purity Ring, Charli XCX, Ab-Soul) and others I've heard great things about but never explored yet. 

In case it wasn't obvious, I'm not massively into hip hop. Of artists around at the moment, I struggle to name more than 5 whose work I actively look forward to, and some of the genre's giants are releasing the most boring records available. This decade's been kind with touting new talent, though, and a list of Chance the Rapper, Kendrick Lamar, Frank Ocean, Death Grips, J. Cole and Drake albums seem to be passed around with reverence today. Now, under a heavily electronic label Fool's Gold (which houses Kavinsky, Chromeo and label-founder A-Trak's sideproject Duck Sauce), Brown sets about breaking from his underground roots via the same manner that Dizzee Rascal did - but this isn't a grime album. If anything, this is classic hip hop, and that's maybe the most surprising thing about the man who received fellatio on stage last year.

So old school, in fact, the album's split into two sides: 'Side A (Old)' gets straight to work with record-scratching and dark, straightforward beats that observes "They want that old Danny Brown to bag up and sell a whole pound". The love of all things classic pops up on 'The Return', a sample of OutKast's Return of the G - itself a sample of Superfly - that grooves along nicely with sitars, background cheering and a strong verse from Freddie Gibbs, but it's merging that with fresher sounds that proves Brown's greatest talent: last year's album of the year contenders Purity Ring pop up on '25 Bucks', where Brown talks about his mother braiding hair to provide income and that same struggle today: "I'm tired of seein' my family fucked up and hungry". The insight into childhood incidents are played upon with the nursery rhyme nature of 'Wonderbread', initially an irritating tune but actually a rolled-up story of racial profiling (the shopkeeper), prostitution and shootouts that ends in Brown getting his head stomped and the bread stolen. It's a tale told before on XXX's Fields, so - thanks to the annoying voice - it's a little bit pointless. Far more engaging is the description of Detroit in general on 'Gremlins': "Guess he's just a psycho in the city of the Chrysler/ Everybody livin' spiteful nigga lookin' just to ice you".

Fans of Brown's earlier work and his signature whiny flow will instantly love 'Dope Fiend Rental', a completely OTT bit about easy sex that finds Schoolboy Q slipping between the subtle ("take the wood like a termite") and the crass ("Come here chick and let me feed you nuts/ Cum on her ass and have her lyin' in it") worryingly easily. It's not a pretty listen but its delivery is excellent; same goes for 'Torture' although for quite different reasons. It opens with the horrifying anecdote "Remember one time, dawg, this fiend owed the boss/ Put peanut butter on her pussy, let his pits lick it off" and doesn't get any lighter from there. Stories about hammer-assaults, his uncle beating his aunt and getting busted as a crack dealer back in 2006 are all obviously compelling but it's Brown's own insomnia and stress that make it fascinating ("I feel like a prisoner of war/ Reacting sporadically to what the mind absorb/ Probably need a shrink"). Sometimes deep, sometimes self-loathing, 'Lonely' is another highlight, finding him "smoking by my lonely, by my goddamn self/ I don't need your help homie/ Cause don't nobody really know me".

All of that makes for a pretty good Side A, but it's on Side B that Brown borders on greatness: the title track 'Dope Song' goes hard quickly, although we'll see whether his promise of "this the last time Imma tell you, wanna hear it?" regarding his drug dealing past lasts. Productions from Rustie, A-Trak and a guest appearance from the dizzyingly-quick English MC Scruffizer on 'Dubstep' make this half of the album infinitely more energetic, and by the Niggas in Paris-referencing excellent 'Dip' (the album's first single) we're already smelling a lot of smoke. So too is 'Smokin and Drinkin', an all-out banger that just commands attention. There're more of the same ilk: 'Handstand' and 'Break it (Go)' are crude club anthems about getting some, but the final three tracks are slightly more interesting productions; 'Kush Coma' in particular is a suitably trippy cautionary tale ("All these drugs up in me, it's a miracle I ain't mirror Kurt/ I'm numb like a mortician") whilst UK electropop goddess Charli XCX is the unusual choice for album-closure on 'Float On', where Brown is unusually mellow and "rolling up this dope to cope".

At 32, Danny Brown is probably pushing on old enough to be the father to some other names trying to break through in the rap game right now (or so the Daily Mail would claim). For all of the crazy antics that made people compare him to ODB (this album's speculated working title), Brown comes across here as pretty sensible. His influences are Love, Joy Division and Radiohead, and he isn't nearly as instantly-dislikeable as Chief Keef or Tyler. And, three albums in, he's managed to stack up such a huge repertoire of different performances, techniques and personalities that I'm half-scared and half in awe of what could possibly be next.

Rating: 8.5/10
Highlights: Dip; Smokin & Drinkin; Kush Coma; Lonely; Dope Fiend Rental; Torture
Avoid: Wonderbread

Artwork Watch: Marvellous.
Up next: Katy Perry