“One day, I just woke up and said, ‘You’ve got to express yourself in whatever way you want’,” JD Cliffe told NME when we first met him in 2024. That sentiment has been his guide for his uncompromising music since, including the riotous ‘Buss Ur Head’ – one of our Best Songs of 2024. With thrashing guitars and blaring drums, the north-west Londoner brought rap and rock into the same pit – and ‘Misfit’ is his mission to make that collision permanent. After years on the fringe of the underground, Cliffe kicks down the door with his debut EP, melting together grime, punk, R&B and indie to create something that’s messy in the best way.
‘Don’t Let Me Go’, the record’s centrepiece, is a brilliant example of Cliffe’s ability to straddle different worlds and ideas. His hazy and delicate vocals bring light to what really is a sonic crash-out full of blasé quips and energetic instrumentals playing around this dreamy soundscape. There’s a sad softness to it, too – he begs his lover not to “break my heart” and “crush my ego,” grounding the track in romantic vulnerability. But he doesn’t lose his bite: he calls out the “fuck boys talking online all day” who idolise Andrew Tate – a much-needed dig at fragile masculinity without falling into it himself.
But Cliffe also flips the script on ‘Misfit’, proving he can captivate without the commotion. ‘On My Mind’ is an ethereal, lofty addition where he ditches his double-time flow while laying his heart bare for two minutes and 22 seconds – a rarity in UK rap nowadays. ‘In Arms’, meanwhile, is rougher and more ragged than a fully-formed track, but his vocals floating over sparse, ghostly production still make for an engaging listen.
Elsewhere, there’s calculated chaos: distorted guitars clang around under jagged vocals, and Cliffe swerves between flows like a man possessed. ‘It’s Up’ is a Maths Time Joy-produced sizzler built to set your synapses on fire – with Cliffe speed-rapping in that skippy way reserved for grime MCs. This is an indie-grime song: a re-emerging subgenre that Cliffe boasts he’s “the face of the movement” of. Meanwhile, lead single ‘Lying To My Face’ is a raw and razor-edged pick-me-up for when you’re in a lull: “It’s OK / I’ll make it anyway” – a line that morphs into a mantra by the time the track fades out.
Out of all seven songs, there’s only one blunder: ‘Hills Have Eyes’ with DRAM, the only featured artist on the album. The Virginia singer and rapper’s hushed delivery immediately dims the flame Cliffe lights, hindering the potentially anthemic tune for the outcasts. But Cliffe’s not off the hook. We’re up for a funny line here and there, but “Life is hard like BBL” and “Treat it like contactless, I gotta tap” feel rudimentary compared to the lyrical levels we know he can reach.
Regardless, Cliffe forgets about fitting in on ‘Misfit’, refusing to be boxed into any scene, sound, or trends. This EP thrives in contradiction: slick and scrappy, delicate and aggressive, polished yet defiantly unrefined. It’s not perfect – some tracks flicker out before they catch fire – but that unpredictability is exactly what makes ‘Misfit’ such an electric debut.
