The New Classics #40: Boy In Da Corner, Dizzee Rascal

Title: Boy In Da Corner
Artist: Dizzee Rascal
Year: 2003
Label: XL Recordings

If the 1990s were the decade where rap established itself as a dominant force in music, the 2000s were the decade where it began to expand and test its own boundaries. American rap saw dozens of innovators push the envelope with both production and lyrics, but the biggest expansion of the genre seems to have come internationally. Hip-hop from South America, the U.K., Germany, Australia and even South Africa has broadened rap's possibilities, with each country's own traditions and culture putting a new stamp on beats and rhymes. One of the decade's earliest and best examples of this was Dizzee Rascal's Boy In Da Corner, an exemplary release that dramatically rewrote the rules of hip-hop. Recorded when Dizzee was only eighteen, Boy In Da Corner's blend of stark music and lyrical creativity have established it as one of the earliest and most important albums of international hip-hop.

Listening to the music and beats on Boy In Da Corner is still an exhilarating experience. Rather than using the standard James Brown funk breaks or clipped R&B samples of his American contemporaries, Dizzee's songs are built out of staccato keyboard jabs, precise drum machine hits and terse samples of plucked strings. The result is a deeply un-funky, stabby sound, far removed from the sexiness of American hip-hop. Cold, mechanical and often unrelentingly fast, the clockwork beats on songs like "I Luv U" are jarring. Dizzee himself delivers his lyrics with machine-gun speed, spitting the words out in his thick, occasionally unintelligible East London accent. These are songs that get in your face. At that album's most intense, such as the single "Jus' A Rascal" or "Stop Dat," this barrage of words and rhythms is overpowering.

Boy In Da Corner doesn't even pretend to pander to American audiences, as its crammed full of East London slang and references that fly over the heads of many listeners. About half the album's songs deal with Dizzee's own ego, attacking enemies with an unyielding wall of braggadocio and threats. However, rather than coming across as arrogant and irritating, Dizzee's wordplay and sheer, youthful dedication to what he's saying allow him to create a powerful, charismatic personality for himself. Lyrical gems like "it's possible you'll get hit with a chair" and "I'll make you care intensively" from "Hold Ya Mouf" give the songs a fun sense of humor amid the danger and violence. Despite all the thuggish elements of daily life Dizzee raps about, he's clearly a very intelligent guy, slinging elaborate metaphors and rhyme schemes at high speeds.

Yet, it's the other songs, when Dizzee slows down a moment and observes the world around him, where Boy In Da Corner really earns its place. The paranoid opener "Sittin' Here" is spectacular, with Dizzee reflecting on how bleak things have become compared to his childhood. The same themes haunt "Brand New Day," featuring the observation "looks like I'm losing mates, there's a lot of hostility near my gates, we used to fight kids from other estates, now eight millimeters settle debates." At only eighteen, Dizzee Rascal already sounds grizzled and nostalgic. He's smart enough to see through the life of violence and "pregnant girls who think they love useless mans with no plans," leading to dire warning songs like "Jezebel." The wistful closer "Do It" ends the album with Dizzee wishing he could "sleep forever" to escape the intense, frightening life he documents throughout Boy In Da Corner. Powerful and emotional, it's a highly effective way to end an album. Despite all the struggles he talks about, Boy In Da Corner definately sounds like Dizzee's ticket out of that suffering. Sure enough, it catapulted him first to massive critical acclaim (winning the U.K. Mercury Prize) and, finally, mainstream success in the U.K. Although these recent hits came at the expense of the detailed lyricism and musical innovation that first made him famous, Boy In Da Corner is still as awe-inspiring as it was in 2003. You can call him a sell-out if you want, but after living the bleak life he discusses on his debut, I say he deserves to just enjoy himself a bit.

Next up on The New Classics: Vespertine, Björk