slowthai's debut album Nothing Great About Britain was a frenzied capsule of disaffection and anger, one that tackled nationalist pride and Britain's toxic political morass with itching abandon. Bouncing on stage swinging the fake severed head of former British PM Boris Johnson at the 2019 Mercury Prize Awards, it was impossible to deny the upstart rapper's impish showmanship; by blending social commentary with punk authenticity and electronic beats, slowthai — or Ty for short — found a dedicated, fervent audience.
Now post-Brexit, not-really-post-pandemic, a sophomore album and two whole prime ministers later, slowthai grapples with how the world has corroded that bombastic, youthful energy. Ugly explores the rapper's newly formed duality, deepening his songcraft and letting the raging flame dim to a white-hot ember; it's his most reflective album to date. Frantic opener "Yum" starts with pulsating, throat-throttling bass drums as slowthai spits about "more coke, more weed…more sex, less stress…more bass, more raves." You can feel your heart rate increase as the song propels you forward, craving for action. However, on Ugly, the thrill doesn't go on uninterrupted — it's not just about pills and parties, but also "having a conversation with God'' on psilocybin mushrooms and "smoking weed, singing Lauryn Hill."
All the substances coalesce as slowthai tries to escape the present moment — directly after rapping about singing love songs when you're high, the rules are declared: "any bad vibes and you're gonna get killed." It's a testament to slowthai's newfound thematic complexity, as he finds subtle shades of critique even in the pursuit of bettering himself. Once ceremonious and transcendent, capitalism and the wellness industry commodifies everything, causing even the most existential experiences to flatline emotionally. The "woo-girls" stumbling across Granville Street are seeking the same things as the tech bros on King Street West: belonging. Microdose, buy mushrooms storefront, and see the girl who bullied you in high school try to recruit you for an essential oils scam.
Ugly employs repetition in a way that could be grating, but instead embodies the spiraling, anxious thoughts that define the record. Why wouldn't you be anxious right now? It's redundant to say that things are bad, but things are bad! "Happy" and "Ugly," back-to-back interludes, flex this repetition by highlighting slowthai's dexterous delivery, demonstrating the way tone can make repetition feel brand new. In both songs, Ty spells out the title in the chorus and accentuates the last syllable. He raps "It's okay to cry / H-A-P-P-Y" elongating the last letter into a groaning "whhyyyy." All the refrains on Ugly have short and long phrases that repeat themselves, with slowthai digging subtle meaning from his shifting delivery. In "Never Again," he raps about being a father, acknowledging his shortcomings and the attention that cannot be given solely to his child — his own dysfunctional household will affect the way his son navigates the world. Despite all these inevitable trials, he repeats again and again that "I would give everything for a smile".
On Ugly, slowthai brings audiences beyond his spitfire persona and into his mind. Like many of his fans, he isn't happy with the world or himself, seeking drugs, alcohol and sex to dissociate from the maelstrom of life. The truth is that we're deeply powerful and significant on this tiny, miniscule rock floating through infinite space — Ugly finds a complicated sort of happiness, one that embraces, however painfully, its creator's weaknesses and anxieties. Growth isn't always pretty.
(Method/Universal Music Canada)Now post-Brexit, not-really-post-pandemic, a sophomore album and two whole prime ministers later, slowthai grapples with how the world has corroded that bombastic, youthful energy. Ugly explores the rapper's newly formed duality, deepening his songcraft and letting the raging flame dim to a white-hot ember; it's his most reflective album to date. Frantic opener "Yum" starts with pulsating, throat-throttling bass drums as slowthai spits about "more coke, more weed…more sex, less stress…more bass, more raves." You can feel your heart rate increase as the song propels you forward, craving for action. However, on Ugly, the thrill doesn't go on uninterrupted — it's not just about pills and parties, but also "having a conversation with God'' on psilocybin mushrooms and "smoking weed, singing Lauryn Hill."
All the substances coalesce as slowthai tries to escape the present moment — directly after rapping about singing love songs when you're high, the rules are declared: "any bad vibes and you're gonna get killed." It's a testament to slowthai's newfound thematic complexity, as he finds subtle shades of critique even in the pursuit of bettering himself. Once ceremonious and transcendent, capitalism and the wellness industry commodifies everything, causing even the most existential experiences to flatline emotionally. The "woo-girls" stumbling across Granville Street are seeking the same things as the tech bros on King Street West: belonging. Microdose, buy mushrooms storefront, and see the girl who bullied you in high school try to recruit you for an essential oils scam.
Ugly employs repetition in a way that could be grating, but instead embodies the spiraling, anxious thoughts that define the record. Why wouldn't you be anxious right now? It's redundant to say that things are bad, but things are bad! "Happy" and "Ugly," back-to-back interludes, flex this repetition by highlighting slowthai's dexterous delivery, demonstrating the way tone can make repetition feel brand new. In both songs, Ty spells out the title in the chorus and accentuates the last syllable. He raps "It's okay to cry / H-A-P-P-Y" elongating the last letter into a groaning "whhyyyy." All the refrains on Ugly have short and long phrases that repeat themselves, with slowthai digging subtle meaning from his shifting delivery. In "Never Again," he raps about being a father, acknowledging his shortcomings and the attention that cannot be given solely to his child — his own dysfunctional household will affect the way his son navigates the world. Despite all these inevitable trials, he repeats again and again that "I would give everything for a smile".
On Ugly, slowthai brings audiences beyond his spitfire persona and into his mind. Like many of his fans, he isn't happy with the world or himself, seeking drugs, alcohol and sex to dissociate from the maelstrom of life. The truth is that we're deeply powerful and significant on this tiny, miniscule rock floating through infinite space — Ugly finds a complicated sort of happiness, one that embraces, however painfully, its creator's weaknesses and anxieties. Growth isn't always pretty.
