Dizzee Rascal, E3 AF, review: the elder statesman of British rap returns

Dizzee Rascal’s 2003 debut, Boy in Da Corner, was like a runaway freight train that smashed through British pop culture. Recorded when Dizzee (real name: Dylan Kwabena Mills) was just a teenager, the record’s gutter beats reflected working-class sound-system culture.

Tracks such as “I Luv U”, “Fix Up, Look Sharp” and “Seems 2 Be” became anthems not only in the inner cities, but also within the bedrooms of middle-class white adolescents. Even ravers caught on, perhaps drawn in by all those ambient sirens and pockets of dark, distorted bass.

Dizzee’s hyper-animated rapping style took UK hip-hop to new heights, disrupting the dominance of a lot of boring indie guitar music. He was an eccentric character that bled East London, proving that our emcees could own their Britishness and still leave a serious mark across the Pond: the US publication Pitchfork gave the debut its coveted “Best New Music” stamp.

Just as when outlier acts such as Pink Floyd and Joy Division broke through into the mainstream, Dizzee’s arrival felt like someone had pressed the reset button on British pop music. His performance at the 2012 London Olympics opening ceremony – held just a few miles from the tower block where he grew up – rubber-stamped grime as Britain’s dominant musical force of the 2010s.

After a fallow decade, mainly spent on tepid pop collaborations – he worked with the Arctic Monkeys, Calvin Harris and (sigh) James Corden – Dizzee reconnected with his musical roots and trademark grime sound with 2017’s Raskit. And it’s a journey he continues with the release of his seventh studio album, E3 AF. The title could be “E3 As F---”, or “E3 African” – a reference to his hometown, as well his African roots (his late father was Nigerian while his mother, Priscilla, is Ghanaian).

The album’s hard-hitting opener, “God Knows”, is a reminder of all the sacrifices the Bow emcee has made over the years, as he admits to sometimes feeling like a “nervous wreck.” The song hints at PTSD, suggesting that riches haven’t completely disconnected Dizzee from the streets that made him. He comes across as supremely confident even while showing off his scars; it’s the kind of blunt juxtaposition that made fans fall in love with him in the first place.

Highlight “Don’t Be Dumb” is easily among the best songs Dizzee Rascal has released over the last 10 years. He sounds angry at all the rivals who might have dismissed him as a musical force, urgently rapping: “Whole lot of tongue and lip, but what have you done?” His pledge to “molest the beat like Spacey” is a little on the edge, true – but it’s just thrilling to hear him sound so fired up again.

A diverse cast of guests, which includes grime royalty such as D Double E, Ghetts, Kano and Smoke Boys, ensures Dizzee is kept on his toes throughout the record’s 10 tracks. He mostly rises to the occasion, making his scathing insult of: “Work on your bars, you lazy p---k!” on the drill-enthused banger “Act Like You Know” feel deserved.

Yet this new record doesn’t always soar, and whenever Dizzee tries too hard to make a pop single, the thrill starts to wear off. The album closer “Be Incredible” is built around a syrupy hook Gary Barlow might have written for a Morrisons advert; the lyrics feel blunted amid the sentimental, poppy production. “Body Loose”, which samples the club classic “Body Groove” by Architects and Nana, also feels too much like an obvious grab for a hit single, with forced Topman t-shirt-ready lines like “I’m the vibe supplier” – not really something you’d expect to hear from an artist now in their mid-30s.

Thankfully, these are mere hiccups. E3 AF is filled with more than enough moments that mark Dizzee’s growth into adulthood (he’s now 36) and a lover of shaving truffles onto his tagliatelle (as he boasts on “That’s Too Much”). The powerful “Energies and Powers” sees Dizzee process his grief over the loss of a friend who had only just become a father. He admits to shedding tears as he looks back on the struggle of growing up in an environment where violence remains just a wrong step away. You sense he’s looking backwards in order to move forward as an adult; the song, like most of this record, is a powerful dose of self-therapy.

Dizzee is no longer the same artist who put out Boy in Da Corner in 2003, but E3 AF marks his growth into an elder statesman of rap. Perhaps he sounds so assured because he’s embedding himself again in the sound that he helped to pioneer. There’s been a lot of conversation over recent months around grime fading out of the picture, its ascendence replaced by UK drill – but so long as Dizzee Rascal is making music like this, it’s hard to see that happening.

E3 AF is out on Dirtee Stank now