Good news, people with ears: Trim has released a new mixtape. I don't give a fuck how many words Ghetto can squeeze in per line or how many times Westwood has "bigged up" Chipmunk, all I want to listen to is Trim. All day, every day.
Not much gives me more aural pleasure than his funny, rambling, introspective lyrics that sometimes struggle to make sense. In some ways, he's like grime's answer to a young Lee "Scratch" Perry.
Trim feat. Crunch, "Signal"
Trim, "Inside Looking Out"
Both of these are produced by Geeneus' little brother, Jerzey, who seems like one of the only people left in grime making the weird beats with curdled melodies that first attracted me to the genre. According to the internet, some people aren't so keen on the beats on this mixtape, but I think Trim's selection is pretty perfect.
Wiley and Skepta performed at 1Xtra Live in Coventry last week and decided to preview a new dance called the Rolex Sweep that (by the looks of it) they picked up that morning on an episode of the Teletubbies. Since then about two people have posted videos of themselves doing the moves on YouTube, which in grime terms equates to a mammoth dance craze. Some people are calling it the "ghetto Macarena", I'm calling it, erm, really embarrassing. Nonetheless, Los Del Rio, watch your back.
Here is Jammer doing the Rolex Sweep, which I am rightfully renaming the Murkle Sweep, since I think it's fitting that anything related to Jammer should involve the word "murkle".
In other news, T2 has remixed Kate Nash and in the process proved he can't make every female vocal sound good. Jodie Aysha couldn't hit a note if it boxed her in the nose first, but with the help of T2 she almost got to number 1 with "Heartbroken". He's made Kate Nash sound like a mockney robot, though. It seems you really can't polish a turd. First, she ruins Kano's album, now she's tarnishing T2's good name. Come on, let's all get a petition or something together to ban her from doing any more urban music collaborations. In the words of Trim: United we stand, divided we're like odd socks.