Abel Tesfaye's dark, twisted album is at odds with the glossy pop world he's been thrust into
CODY (Come On Die Young)
The work of one [B]Gary Gilroy[/B], himself presumably a [B]Funky Glaswegian Gangster [/B](though on the evidence of this execrable, bloodless set, he has still yet to prove his funkiness),...
A hip-hop head who got into West Coast rap because of the obvious parallels between the projects of South Central LA and his own Castlemilk estate, Gilroy turned to house music because he believes white British people "can't rap! Period." Needless to say, 'CODY...' does little to enhance the reputation of white British people making house music.
Tracks such as 'Find Another Ho!', 'West Coast Bitch' and 'The Jack-Off Hour' (obviously not the titles of some sad wigga who listens to NWA every day) stretch on for ever and ever and do NOTHING, leaving the distinct impression that Gilroy set the kick-drums and hi-hats off and then popped next door to jerk off over a Booty Bounce video... Add sub-Trainspotting sleevenotes that will appeal to every sucker for style-magazine-grimy 'authenticity', and you've got a very reprehensible package indeed.
'Come On Die Young'? Two tracks in I wished I had. Give us Mogwai any day.
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