When Grime ignited the UK's rap scene a decade ago, it sounded, above anything else, new. And the sounds were, perhaps, but grime has always relied on the same notions of realness and hardness as gangster rap. And like its American analogue, grime began nurturing these traits organically. Roughneck, 1000 mph pirate radio bleats don't require posturing or explanation. As the sound has ingratiated itself amongst the grander scheme of UK pop music, it has fallen back on the same kinds of habits that American rap music has; namely, it has to manufacture "real" and "hard" where once it just left them amongst the entrails of the conquered.
This manufacturing process often still results in fantastic music, but it also means that the series of "Dark Crawler Interludes" that pepper Terror Danjah's sophomore LP-- interludes that feature the vast majority of the album's actual rapping and its most aggressive tempos and arrangements-- aren't just interludes, they're postures, entreaties for Terror Danjah's continued hardness and realness. Of course, the moment a producer begins to actively attempt to convince you of these things is the moment that he might fail to do so as well. And so the eponymous interludes serve as reminders that Terror Danjah makes grime music during a time when it's possible for grime music to come packaged with slow jams, to recline comfortably on tropes.
Danjah's closest parallel in American underground music is Prefuse 73, another resolutely underground producer whose work stands up well to vocalists but who more often chooses to stand his tracks on their own stead. Like Prefuse, Danjah's solo work remains relevant even as its potency decreases. It's telling that Dark Crawler's most interesting, vivid tracks have little to do with grime's traditional palette: the early morning sweetness of "Baby Oil", the concrete-block kick and drum'n'bass patter of "Moschino". These are the exceptions. Mostly, Danjah leans on a thick, jackhammer middle and yawning low-end. The gaping synthesizer riffs of "Mirrors Edge" bulldoze detail, likewise the tired orchestral stabs in "Dark Gremlinz".
The music is big but gentle, offered without tension or anger. When it is not big-- see the leaden sentiment of "You Make Me Feel" and "Delicately"-- it is laughably composed and calculating. If you feel the need for sugar-sweet R&B vocals, why not tap into the lingering UK garage revival? It's a missed opportunity. What we're left with on Dark Crawler is craft-- Danjah remains one of the most accomplished grime producers-- but craft without inspiration.
