The reasons why even those outside the UK hip-hop community got so excited about Roots Manuva seem obvious listening to the shortcomings of this similarly expectation-heavy debut. He, more than any other Brit hope, is in possession of a style, a twist of the tongue, a turn of phrase, a rhythm of speech that mark out a truly distinctive voice. 'Brand New Second Hand' was a debut that gave us something like the thrill of hearing Method Man on 'Protect Ya Neck', Busta Rhymes on 'Scenario' or any other number of lyrically dextrous U.S. emcees announce their arrival. As the 'most-likely-to' next in line to the UK throne, Fallacy finds himself in demanding company.
Unfortunately, it's fair to say that the South London emcee is rather less nimble in the verbal styling department than any of the above. But, what he lacks in flow he makes a decent fist of compensating for with energy and a wilful disregard of hip-hop convention. 'Blackmarket Boy' is a virtual survey of the underground scene in London circa 2003 - a sonic night on the town that takes in stops from the UK Garage clubs of the East End, through South London's drum'n'bass shebangs, hip-hop open mike sessions, glitzy West End R&B bashes and onward into the night. (Make no mistake: these and not coffee table jazz lite chez Hoxton are the underground).
There's consistency to the album's production with most of the tracks designed by Fallacy's 'Groundbreaker' partner Fusion who does a fine carbon of hip-hop styles. Roni Size builds a typically stealthy and fluid rhythm track for the drum'n'bass cut, 'Scrunch', but most fans of the sound will opt for the instrumental. 'John Wayne Swagger' and the blatantly Neptunes/Timberlake-inspired 'Ooh' are Fisher Price takes on the current U.S. modus operandi.
The minimal groove of 'Square Beamer' provides the freshest highlight from moonlighting drum'n'bass producers Shy FX And T Power. Its uncluttered groove finally allowing Fallacy to stretch his rhythms and move away from the club MC monotone of his delivery on the more uptempo cuts from Fusion. Those that remember his work with UK Garage producer MJ Cole will testify that, at least in UKG 2003 terms, Fallacy is no Dizzee Rascal.
Positioning its star as a kind of hip hop character from a Guy Ritchie film, the album begins to grate as it consistently overdoes references to Del Boy-isms and cheeky cockney antics. The sleeve notes helpfully break down the street slang including the agonisingly ubiquitous 'monster' (Ref - 'Monstrous' Monster is to be larger than life or better, distinctive from anything or anyone else). At a push you might make a case for 'distinctive', by virtue of 'Blackmarket Boy's stylistically fluid nature. But Fallacy isn't yet in a position to claim to have 'bettered' the best of his peers. With less 'scrunch', less 'swagger' and more style, the next one might just be 'monster'.
