From the UK via Liberia, Nigeria and Scotland, Young Fathers have pursued a unique trajectory, from mid-teen hip hop trio via psych-pop rap hipsters to where they are now, on their own original island thrown up by a pop volcano, tectonic plates of genres rubbing up against each other like under-sea dirty party-people; seams of molten pop history spewing lava more fertile than guano, upon which the rich foliage of hook, rhythm and bass grow immodestly in the sun. Along the way, they have dropped pearls: Straight Back On It, from their unreleased debut album Inconceivable Child… Conceived, is the telescoping of Tommy Boy into the 21st century. Featured performances with Simian Mobile Disco gave glimpses of the kind of light bulb shattering energy they are capable of. Several tours, many festivals, honing a live presence which often looked like the vision of a boy band through the bottom of a glass of crystal meth. Finally, having left their original production company and moved out on their own, Young Fathers dropped their first mixtape at the end of 2011. TAPE ONE shows them in a darker place, a natural pop progression, the kind documented in the David Essex films, That’ll Be The Day and Stardust, reaching shamanistic levels of call, response, lyrical invocations. Wildly urban. Here they are then, alternating spells in the basement creating an endless stream of tracks to drip or splurge into the public ear in coming months, alchemy which sees them combine massive bass and the passion of lyfe on sheets of flash and mantronik steel, forged in an African fire.
