Sitting atop many critics’ "Best of 2002" lists is a
bizarre and ambitious album by a London chap named Mike Skinner who records
under the moniker The Streets. Not knowing exactly what to make of him, hapless
but impressed American journalists tagged Skinner as "The British Eminem."
Unfortunately, it’s a comparison that misses the mark of what Skinner has
accomplished on his debut disc Original Pirate Material. The Streets’
debut is an electronica album, a cultural artifact, a rap release, a poetry
slam, and an anthropology lesson all-in-one. It’s also the most artfully done,
but ultimately inaccessible, mainstream album in years.
To review The Streets in the same milieu as other rap
albums is missing the point. Skinner doesn’t rap as much as he tells stories in
a staccato and affected talking style — imagine a hyper-fast spoken word
performance over electronica DJ music. In England, this sub-genre is known as
garage, and the words and music don’t match up in any kind of discernable way.
Skinner reportedly wrote, produced, and arranged all 14 tracks of Original
Pirate Material in his basement recording studio, and his talent as a
DJ/producer is comparable to Moby or Fatboy Slim. From the groove of Who Got
the Funk? to thefunky percussion on Turn the Page, Skinner’s
ear for good music makes the listener want to hear what this kid could put
together in collaboration with a more adept and traditional MC on the mic.
Lyrically, Skinner dissects the culture of the poor,
violent, white underclass of London in the same manner that N.W.A. sought to
make some sense out of the poor, violent, black underclass of Los Angeles on its
groundbreaking 1988 album Straight Outta Compton. The Streets explores
the lifestyle of the blokes ("geezers" in local slang) whose idea of a good time
is pouring several pints down the hatch and fighting like wildcats over a soccer
match. Skinner delivers this cultural exploration in a thick cockney accent
using local idioms that don’t always come easy to Yankee ears (and,
unfortunately, lyric sheets are not included with your purchase). It takes
several careful listens to pick up what, exactly, Skinner is talking about, but
once you parse it out, it’s some pretty interesting stuff. On Geezers Need
Excitement, Skinner does his best to explain what exactly makes the geezer
subculture tick, and on Don’t Mug Yourself, he devises a strategy for
calling a girl he met at a pub the night before. The album’s best track is
The Irony of It All, which lampoons the hypocrisy of ale-guzzlers’
indignation over pot smokers pursuit of happiness.
For most listeners, Original Pirate Music is just
too much darn work. Most folks outside of blue-collar London could spend a dozen
listens with the CD and still not understand what Skinner is trying to get
across. However, if you love the esoteric, you’ll probably enjoy The Streets
just fine. On one self-referential track, Skinner even refers to the difficulty
listeners will have in pigeonholing him when he sings, "You say that everything
sounds the same, then you go buy them. Let’s push things forward." While
Original Pirate Material is not an easy listen, it is a unique and madly
brilliant release that stands out among the many other discs fighting for shelf
space.
