The Streets - Computersand Blues

Wed 2nd Mar, 2011 in Music Reviews

Computers and Blues is the fifth and final studio album by iconic and inimitable Birmingham-born, London-based rapper Mike Skinner, performing under the moniker of The Streets. The record brings down the curtain on Skinner’s brilliant musical career, where he has proven that he belongs at the forefront of British music for his social commentary and accessible, real-world observations, and ensures that he goes out with a bang rather than a whimper.

Skinner’s first two records, 2002’s Original Pirate Material and 2004’s concept album A Grand Don’t Come For Free, were landmark records not only in terms of the development of British hip-hop but also in the witty and astute way Skinner summed up British working class life in the 2000s, dealing with topics ranging from nightclubbing, drug use, unemployment and alcoholism to love, lust, loss and lament. After a lull in proceedings with the disappointing efforts of 2006’s self-indulgent The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living and 2008’s benign and slow-moving Everything Is Borrowed, Computers and Blues can be seen as a massive return to form and ensures Skinner will be remembered in a positive light.

The space-age glitch opening of Outside Inside gives off the impression of a malfunctioning computer, the first sign of the themes explored throughout the record. The R&B and funk groove of the track provides a basis for Skinner’s somewhat complex chorus of ‘The world is outside but inside warm/Inside informal outside stormy inside normal’.

The soaring vocal hook on Going Through Hell, courtesy of Rob Harvey of The Music is a counterpoint to Skinner’s deadpan musings. The catchy and uplifting Roof Of Your Car, featuring a club-ready, manipulated vocal sample of ‘Gaze up to the stars/Truth you’ve opened up my eyes’, sees Skinner’s first overt lamentations of the digital revolution. Puzzled By People begins with another dancefloor-ready sample of Love is the Answer, before Skinner suggests the over dependence of Generation Y upon technology resulting in social maladjustment and relationship issues.

Without Thinking is driven by an uplifting piano sample vaguely reminiscent of Weak Become Heroes from Original Pirate Material. The track is probably the most anthemic moment of the record, particularly the chorus of ‘I’ll go out without a blink/Out without a plink/I’ll go downtown without thinking and shout over a drink’, a manifesto which serves as a magnificent, carpe diem counterpoint to the Gen-Y social paranoia of the rest of the track. The vibrant refrain of ‘All the people in the place’ is delivered by guest vocalist Sharlene Hector.

The dark and emotionally resonant Blip On A Screen, featuring the chorus ‘A blip on a screen/You don’t know me/I think about you, and what you’ll grow to be’, discusses the age of technology from a different perspective. Referencing the first vision of a child on an ultrasound, Skinner implicitly expresses his concern about the state of the world that the child will grow up in. The heart-wrenching closing couplet of ‘I fix and I plan, but this is just mad/I love you, you’re only 100 pixels on a scan’ paves the way for the more upbeat Those That Don’t Know, complete with tribal drumming. The way in which Skinner employs smooth, crooning vocal samples (or soaring, clubby female vocals) as hooks breathes life into the songs, and allows many tracks to take on an entirely new complexion, adding an important dimension of sing-along catchiness to them.

This also applies to Those That Don’t Know, with the crooning ‘Those that don’t know/They don’t know’ sample once again offering a different dynamic to Skinner’s brilliant social commentary and clever rhymes (‘The flip flops and your shorts/All the big dogs on your porch/’Til the night on the scorch/A light like a torch’).

Rob Harvey once again offers his services on Soldiers, another slice of danceable R&B that could hold its own amongst any of Skinner’s early material. The polished radio-pop ballad of We Can Never Be Friends, featuring clean, shimmering acoustic guitars and yet another appearance from Harvey, recalls the despondence of Dry Your Eyes . The source of poignancy comes from Skinner’s sense of resignation, standing in stark contrast to the youthful hope and optimism displayed during his earlier years.

The interlude ABC begins with a crooning breakdown before a kicking, propulsive beat and heavy, dubstep-influenced bassline come to the forefront. Skinner showcases clever, alphabetically themed lyrics, leading into a stinging criticism of social networking in the form of OMG with an effervescent vocal from guest singer Laura Vane, creating a delicious irony when juxtaposed against the subtle yet scathing lyrics, which condemn the impact that online social networking has had on the nature of relationships in modern society.

Trying To Kill M.E. continues the anthemic feel of much of the record, while Skinner bravely confronts his battles with chronic fatigue syndrome before an interesting Eastern-influenced breakdown around the two minute mark keeps things interesting and unpredictable.

The intro of Trust Me not so subtly references that of Turn The Page, the opening track on Skinner’s debut record, but the added computerised glitch is a clever reference to the way things have changed since 2002. This is a brilliantly catchy and memorable track featuring magnificent rhymes a head-nodding garage beat, an R&B piano line, a fuzzy, funk guitar loop and a higher-than-the-stars vocal sample of oohs and aahs. The record closes with the jazz and reggae tinged Lock The Locks, which all seems a bit benign when compared with the brilliant Trust Me, which would have been a better choice as a closer.

Technology has always been a staple theme of Skinner’s lyrics, but Computers and Blues explores the associated issues from a different perspective entirely. References to ‘overclocked brains’ and representations to people merely as arrangements of pixels create a dystopian, Blade Runner feel. Computers and Blues had the potential to be a brilliant concept record, but what lets Skinner down is the lack of singularity in his vision, too often swaying from the overall theme to create a fully realised vision.

But nonetheless, concept or not, this is a great record in itself, a strong return to form after two underwhelming records. The excellence of this record will make for a bittersweet farewell for fans of The Streets, who will surely see the record as a source of great enjoyment but know that Skinner will retire having proven that he still has quality records left inside him. Computers and Blues simultaneously leaves us thoroughly satisfied, but wondering what might have been.