Rowdy bassline rap trio Bad Boy Chiller Crew were tipped for stardom in 2020, with a UK-wide tour and plans to travel the world, but things obviously didn’t quite pan out that way for MCs Kane, Clive, and GK. Instead, the Crew regrouped on their new sprawling farmstead outside of their hometown of Bradford, in the Northern UK county of West Yorkshire, and channelled lockdown boredom into what they do best: making bangers and going on benders. Since last year’s aptly titled Full Wack No Brakes, there’s been the twinkly 2-step of “Needed You” and a nudging, winking Christmas single called “White White Christmas,” as well as lager-assisted tattoo roulette and a digger-powered slip ’n’ slide. Earlier this month, a steady groundswell helped nudge them into the UK Top 40 with the wildly catchy lead single from Charva Anthems, “Don’t You Worry About Me,” a song that sounds like an alcopop tastes: sweet and fizzy, with a neat bit of bite. If you have enough of them, you’ll feel great and then a little bit sick.
Having been snapped up by a major label, the Crew have polished up their organ house and bassline sounds, and some of the references have had an upgrade too—more Grey Goose than Smirnoff, BMWs swapped in for dirt bikes—but mostly the ingredients stay familiar: namely, getting licked and moving quick. “Forget Me,” “Don’t You Worry About Me,” and “Get Out My Head” all follow a similar formula. There’s an outsourced female vocal chorus that sounds instantly familiar on first listen (most of them are lifted, royalty-free, straight from Splice), which is paired with punchy, sidewinding verses. It’s a setup that works best when the chorus is kept brief and aloof, letting the snappy verses do the heavy lifting (“Up late, got flake,” from “Clothes,” is economical lyricism at its thriftiest).
Kane, the best MC of the three and a remarkably understated talent in his own right, takes center stage across the EP. His persona is the most reserved—more chiller than bad boy, you might say—but he’s still endlessly entertaining, and switches flows with the ease and frequency of British weather. Clive’s no slouch either, and GK has bags of charisma; not many people can carry off a lyric like “These lot know I’m a dog like Marley/Drive like Ken and I fuck these Barbies.” Like a hangover fry-up, it just works. Most of the time, anyway.
“She’s My World” is a bit of a dud, with its awkward chorus and out-of-place (if catchy) Auto-Tuned elements. The beat is a plodder, and the heartfelt crooning is forgettable in the same way that drunken rows at kicking-out time tend to be consigned to history by the morning after. But the group have been open about their intentions to reach a broader, more commercial audience, and break out of an otherwise hyperlocal music scene. Their transparency, unlikely star power, and undeniable ear for a hooky flow are probably why so many people are willing them on already. Some new fans might need a glossary—10 points (or pints) to anyone in the U.S. who knows what a charva is—but with gear this moreish, the boys from Braddy might just make good on their global ambitions this year.
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