New York City and London share history, slang, and connections as cultural and African diasporic hubs, and for decades, hip-hop has strengthened the bond. Early stars like Slick Rick and the late MF DOOM were born in greater London but launched careers in New York (and underwent heinous immigration struggles). Today, rap’s ongoing cultural exchange can be seen in the relationships between stars like A$AP Rocky and Skepta, and in the proliferation of New York drill music influenced by London’s scene, which drew its own influence from Chicago. And, as in New York, London’s busy underground rap landscape is preoccupied with a warm and insular sound that stretches pensive raps around warped, sample-based beats. It’s within this framework that London rapper Jadasea and Brooklyn producer Laron find common ground.
Jadasea has been crafting prickly and contemplative raps since at least 2013, but he’s made his greatest impression as an affiliate of New York-via-London rapper MIKE; their 2020 single “Regrets” was a showcase for Jada’s bruised but grateful presence. Meanwhile, Laron cut his teeth producing airy beats with booming low end for artists like XXXTentacion and Rich the Kid, becoming an in-house producer for Brooklyn rapper Jay Critch. Similar to adventurous New York-area beatmakers like Tony Seltzer, Laron has a taste for grainy, sun-bleached samples that straddle hip-hop’s past and future. A few years ago, he sent Jadasea a pack of beats “out the blue.” Eventually, they made The Corner: Vol. 1, Jadasea’s second release on MIKE’s label 10k and a solid, if overlong, collection of heady inquiries into self-enlightenment.
On paper, Jadasea brings little that’s new to the tried-and-true world of understated pain rap. But his voice—or at least the way it’s layered—sets him apart. Many artists in this lane, particularly MIKE circa 2017, pride themselves on muddy, unmixed vocals that become another texture in a sea of sound, a reason to lean in close and absorb every word. Jada achieves a similar effect with a relatively clean vocal mix and a mid-range tone like Slowthai on melatonin. His voice projects confidence, even if his terse, melancholic writing style is not far removed from peers like Tony Bontana or John Glacier. Jada’s raps on the MIKE-featuring “Peace Out” land with force and conviction, thudding their way into the pockets of Laron’s soulful organ samples: “I stayed with it, never ever left my place/Just sayin’, man they tryna test my faith.”
He keeps up this delicate dance for 26 tracks. On “Grimey Blimey” and “Heaven High,” he’s absorbing life lessons from dangerous nights out and fostering future friendships across the world. “Holding On” is a mini-biography that chronicles how his come-up has kept him inspired. Jadasea’s writing isn’t especially detail-oriented, but shifts in his voice fill in the blanks: Take his punchy delivery of bars about perseverance on “Scurry” or the reserved, sage-like way he speaks his mind on “Getting By.” His ability to bring you to emotional states of being, as opposed to physical places, is one of his strengths. But assured delivery can’t always carry an album this long, and stretches of The Corner: Vol. 1 blur together. Though it never becomes unpleasant, Jadasea’s range as a performer isn’t yet as vast as his thoughts.
Laron’s beats, however, get a lot of mileage out of their faded samples. Shades of turn-of-the-century hip-hop production blend seamlessly with more modern touches that keep Jada on his toes. Synths, handclaps, and bolts of guitar set off chipmunked vocal snippets on “Tony Yayo” and “The Ropes”; the sour jazz of “Cheers” recalls Standing on the Corner if they dug around in a pack of Pi’erre Bourne drum kits. There are exquisitely straightforward quiet storm flips (“Murky”), triumphant horns laid across skittering 808s (“Main Contender”), and bare-bones breakbeats (“Oh Dear”). Laron plays every card with ease, bringing just the right tweak or flourish to keep Jada’s words flowing like silk. And though his presence is not yet charismatic enough to hold attention for the length of an episode of Top Boy, Jadasea has the skill to cut through Laron’s deft samplework. Their transcontinental linkup isn’t just proof they’re an engaging duo: It’s another example of London and New York’s natural bond.
