As anticipation continued to grow for Slowthai’s (Tyron Frampton) third album ‘Ugly’ upon social media I found myself, for the first time in a while, genuinely excited about a release date. As a long-time fan of his, I was not disappointed. However, after a quick search around the internet for other’s opinions, I found, to my disbelief, that some were. One review in particular from Pitchfork stated that  ‘Ugly’ “trades rapping and electronic beats for ballads and rage rock. The results are largely underwhelming.” I’m sorry, but if that’s what you took away from the album, then you’ve totally missed the point of what Slowthai stands for. It’s not an out and out swap of style, nor is it an approach to music that should come as much of a surprise if you’ve been following his journey closely. Throughout his career, Ty has been renowned for plucking from a wealth of music influences, Punk and Rage Rock being two prominent forces, meaning that he has never found himself cemented in one singular sound. Rather he bounces from one genre to the next, like a butterfly orbiting a selection of bountiful flowers, sampling each taste, before fluttering into the air to flaunt its beauty in a dramatic, irresistible, mesmerising dance. For Slowthai, ‘Ugly’ is his chance to catch our eye, fuse his passions and dance the night away.

In today’s music industry, I somewhat feel that, especially within popular music, we expect artists to remain within a comfort zone from which they found initial fame. We appear to praise music that’s the ‘same but different’ rather than something entirely unique and daring, which is where true value is found. It was this criticism of ‘Ugly’ that made me realise perhaps people prefer music made by robots; repetitive tracks which refuse to push the boat out and happily stay within their thickly padded comfort zone of routine and previous success. Those who dare step out from the shadows get smacked by aggressive review bombing, visceral tweetstorms and cutting prose from critics sat high upon their ivory towers. Slowthai dared to go against the current and, in my eyes, he succeeded.

Really it’s no surprise that Ty tried something new with ‘Ugly’. For those that have followed his career closely, we have been lucky enough to witness him break out from any genre constraints media outlets have attempted to push. By utilising his bank of music influences, Ty meticulously layers a range of sounds that inspire him. The 28-year-old rapper-slash-rockstar has always spat out caustically witty bars over abrasive beats that blend a plethora of genres from Grime, Trap and Soundcloud rap to the far reaches of Punk and Screamo. In an interview with Noisey back in 2018, Ty shone a light on some of his influences which have resulted in his own unique sound. During his childhood, Ty adored The Street’s ‘A Grand Don’t Come For Free’, a witty album which explores the reality of British life through Punk and Electro influences. Sound familiar? The more you listen to Slowthai’s discography, the more the Street’s effects are evident. Other key artists he mentions as being pivotal to his own growth cover a wonderful spectrum of sounds, from his obscure obsession with Daniel Johnstone (the guy that wrote ‘Casper the Friendly Ghost’) and interest in hard-hitting Gabba music, one of the most standout is his affinity for Radiohead, particularly their track ‘Karma Police’. With ‘Ugly’ in mind and its powerful ballad style moments, similar to those crafted by Radiohead, it’s clear to see that Ty has taken some of his favourite aspects from his most beloved tracks, and distilled them into his own style.

As previously explored, ‘Ugly’ is an album that doesn’t adhere to the mainstream, it has been conceived out of a music lover’s deep dives into the backlogs of music history, however, the album isn’t a sheep. Ty doesn’t imitate but rather he offers his own interpretation on a variety of sounds. ‘Ugly’ carves out its own messy yet vital domain; it’s a celebration of sound. A warts-and-all reckoning, the album opens on ‘Yum’, with lyrics that lean towards the positive personal affirmations that now proliferate in pop, lines you could imagine being belted out over a big power-ballad chorus: “You are great, you are good, you’re a king, you’re a queen, you’re a genius.” Yet it soon takes a swift turn into a disturbing, visceral electronic storm as Ty lists everything that’s pumping through his system: “More coke / More weed / More E’s / More trips”. Opening with a perfect storm of his many influences, Slowthai is preparing us for this genre-bending journey. Later in the album on ‘Never Again’ we hear Slowthai flip the switch back again; gone is the screaming tortured soul, and in its place emerges a beautifully soft and intimate side harmonising to a delicately plucked guitar. He’s equally capable at slowing down the pace as he is at going pedal to the metal. The chorus spotlights his capacity for vulnerability:

“Still got pictures on my phone,

I still sleep on your side of the bed,

I reflect on things I should forget,

The things I should of said, I wish I did”

This is a man who lets himself be fragile, and openly contemplate over a lost relationship he still yearns for. He couldn’t seem more distant from the one who shoves “coke” “weed” and “E’s” into his system to forget. It’s this ability to flutter between two extremes that makes Ty such an exciting artist, and he owes a big part of this talent to his eclectic music taste which inspires his creativity.

Never Again’s snare-heavy pattern is an inch away from a drum’n’bass break, almost as if Ty struggles to stay within one genre, instead pushing the boundaries of his own song in an attempt to break out into something different. ‘Selfish’ and ‘Falling’ dip back into those Punk influences which he loves to exercise so much, and has done previously on his 2018 hit ‘Doorman’. On ‘Falling’, a crashing drum rhythm makes the volume scale creep higher, along with Ty’s screeching vocals that sound less like a vocalist and more like someone singing along to the radio after a few drinks. It’s awfully human and wonderfully unforgiving. ‘Sooner’ opens with a happy-go-lucky guitar riff that you’d expect on a mediocre alt-rock album, as he then explores what it means to live solely by your own rules and how he wishes he had that realisation sooner. 

In this exploration we see Slowthai, yet again, retell his stories of life on society’s fringes and tackle themes of self-deprecation, anxiety and mental health crises on a track that wouldn’t look out of place on the pop charts. Ultimately, across ‘Ugly’s’ tracklist, he cherry picks elements from his favourite genres, albums and artists, yet continually adds his own idiosyncrasies. It would be easy to call ‘Ugly’ Slowthai’s alt-rock album. You can see why people could get that idea – ‘Happy’s’ string-bending distorted guitar and the screamed vocals at the end of ‘Falling’ both recall the Pixies; ‘Sooner’ opens with a breezy rhythm not unlike that of the Strokes’ ‘Last Nite’ – but that feels reductive. Take the title track, with its glowering clouds of synthesiser and woozy guitars, its gradual ratcheting of tension as Slowthai switches from singing to rapping, its singalong chorus bolstered by voices not really singing along so much as they are shrieking and bellowing: what alt-rock band sounds like this?

‘Ugly’ is its own creation. A happy catharsis of a plethora of music influences held together by an individual’s sonic curiosity and determination to try something new. An album by a music lover for music lovers.

8/10