RYAN PROCTOR ( OLDTOTHENEW ) FALLOUT REVIEW

Styly Cee & Cappo

“The Fallout”

(Son Records)

Any album scheduled to be the fiftieth release in the thirteen-year history of homegrown label Son Records was always going to be something of a landmark moment, but perhaps no-one was expecting anything quite as monumental as this full-length collaboration between longstanding Nottingham Hip-Hop figures Styly Cee and Cappo.

Having worked together on various tracks since Cappo’s 1999 debut release “Cap 3000″ the pair’s musical chemistry has always been evident, culminating in the 2008 release “The H-Bomb EP”, a three-track attack on the senses overflowing with musical madness, creative ideas and b-boy bravado.

With brilliant long-players already under his belt such as 2007′s P Brothers-assisted “Spaz The World” and last year’s self-produced “Genghis”, it would be easy to assume that Cappo has already peaked as far as his lyrical abilities are concerned. But on “The Fallout” this Notts bomber ups the verbal ante yet again, displaying a mastery of his craft that can only come from years of study and practice, unleashing jaw-dropping onslaughts of dense, multi-layered poetry. Cappo’s intricate verses here, as always, are equally brilliant and intriguing. The Grand Imperial emcee’s rhymes are the lyrical equivalent of a wild style graffiti piece, with words being sprayed all over Styly’s triumphant production, resulting in bars that sometimes appear to be sheer stream of consciousness, yet a closer listen reveals deeper meanings to be found.

Filtering old-school influences through now-school creativity, “The Fallout” is a back to the future shock that mixes the unpredictable vibe of Bronx River block parties with the musical mayhem of Ced Gee’s Ultra Lab circa 1987, channelling that energy straight into a 2011 UK Hip-Hop masterpiece.

The relentless “Throwdown” is all up-rocking Zulu beats, blaring horns and scratched-up Melle Mel soundbites, as Cappo claims his “mind is a warhead” and that he’s prepared to “surface-to-air until the skies collapse”. The dislocated drums and crashing cymbals provided by Styly Cee on the uncompromisingly hardcore “Winning Spirit” provide the perfect backdrop to further fan the flames of Capps’ “petrol-doused rap”.

The sparse 80s drums heard on “Yo Ass” will have you half expecting a “Cold Gettin Dumb” era Just-Ice to make a guest appearance, whilst the massive title track is perfect in its imperfections, as boisterous chopped horn blasts, obese bass and rugged beats collide with atom-breaking force, held together by Cappo’s ability to tie a track up with larger-than-life metaphors and vivid depictions of microphone mutilation (“I put the pen to the paper, The words visceral, I reinvent wheels, Bring the heat to the scripture”).

“Scan 7″ finds Cappo wrapping futuristic fantasy imagery (“Rocket-pack rhymes fly like Pegasus”) over an ominous, downtempo soundscape complete with laser sound effects, whilst the moody “Crunch Time” is an excellent slice of pure underground defiance that balances lyrical complexity with pulsating sonic simplicity.

Whilst “The Fallout” contains many nods to the old-school, both in terms of Styly’s production techniques and Cappo’s lyrical references, to label this album as nothing more than a throwback project would be wrong. This isn’t merely the sound of two individuals trying to chase the musical ghosts of an era in Hip-Hop that’s now long gone. Instead, Styly and Cappo have put together a fresh and energetic album that, whilst encapsulating elements of the past, definitely looks towards the future in terms of the pair’s clear passion for pushing the boundaries of their respective talents.

At a time when the once cherished term “Real Hip-Hop” has been used and abused to the point of redundancy, Styly Cee and Cappo have crafted an album that is sincere, creative, passionate and uncompromising.

It doesn’t get much realer than that.

Ryan Proctor

DATA TRANSMISSION 'FALLOUT' REVIEW

THE FALLOUT
CAPPO & STYLY CEE
Son
Hip-hop


Son reach 50 not out and let two of their chief head-knockers let off party poppers like they’re grenades; heaviness asking if you can handle it
An old-fashioned hip-hop album of funk drums against tough rhymes, one mouthpiece versus one on the decks. And that’s where the sentimentality ends. The Fallout took root from Styly Cee and Cappo’s Nottingham knockout H-Bomb EP from ‘08. To commemorate Son’s not-to-be-sniffed-at achievement of reaching a half century, the pair display a hunger like label debutants eager to secure long-lasting props. Either that or they’re smashing up the place as if they know their time is up, but something tells you these boys are gonna run and run.


Cappo is his usual dangerously dour self, skirting round the mic stand like a matador and always bringing out red rag flourishes, unstoppable out of a stone-faced posture, grabbing sentences irrespective of how imperfect the fit of words may be (no-one in their right mind would so much as question the non-rhymes), as is his way of playing human wrecking ball. At times oddly and unintentionally comical (particularly with his football-related similes namedropping local Championship managers and flame-haired midfield dynamos) and paraphrasing Mobb Deep and Fat Joe, at others The Grand Imperial remains unmistakably everyday abstract, a veritable “white knuckle ride through my mind’s eye” with sometime summaries that couldn’t be any more perfect (“petrol-doused rap”).


Styly Cee’s breaks are thicker and juicier than a Homer Simpson-endorsed T-bone steak. You’re getting fast-paced crate-digging for Throwdown and Music Maker’s Revenge – party-honed jams that despite the gritty vocals and cymbals flaying with the crash of a perfect storm, are made to see who can bring sweat with a grin. But there’s a level beyond funk recovery and renewal generating million dollar humdingers. Winning Spirit starts the trend of Styly pistol-whipping drum kits through soundsystems left wheezing on the ropes, in time honoured NYC appreciation also showing that the one MC-one DJ formula remains undefeated. More impressive is that there’s very little in the way of extra adornments – few leading horn licks, guitar jangles and such, just a one-on-one of primeval rhymes and rhythm.


Telepathically they’re goading one another in a game of high stakes chess. Cappo's omnipresent disdain aggravates Styly to up his own game; Styly drops bouncing bomb Wild West blitzes such as Crazy Freaks and Volition sorting the quick from the dead, to see if Cappo is hype enough to play his part in what often verges on an unfriendly rivalry. Drum machine anarchy and electro-distorted stress for Yo Ass, is Styly making the wrecking ball get extra pendulous. This isn’t a Fallout, this is bare-knuckled boxing to a bloody death. Regenerate serves Edan’s Rock n Roll at his own Torture Chamber, Cappo and Styly slugging out beats and rhymes as dual grandmasters, both wielding axes as they hack away in time at anyone forgetful of hip-hop’s essence.


More Portnoy-style damage lamps the title track – stripped down, giving the drummer some until veins are bulging out of newly formed biceps. The pair’s stamina levels rerouted (probably for their own good as it’s been a monumental effort up until this point), Scan 7 and Thought Apache, having gotten the skins sectioned, go undercover on electro assignments to bring new intensity; while Cappo hasn’t adjusted his mic grip, focus mode never dipping under 110, he sounds even more at home when planning subterfuge and alluding to the title’s inference of something post-nuclear.


Styly Cee definitely overshadows Cappo here; and that’s no slight against the ripper of so many great moments in UK hip-hop, it’s just that his East Mids brethren has stepped up his game by taking it back and showing detonative ramped up funk breaks need the right conductor to push down on the plunger. Anyone pondering that hip-hop, UK or elsewhere, was just teetering off the boil, here’s the caustic earwash to have your understanding matters again with crystal clarity. 9/10