It seems fitting that when “Big Michael” – as Stormzy has occasionally referred to himself – came to make an album about heartbreak, inner peace and grownup masculinity, he would not do it by half measures. This Is What I Mean is a bold album about showing vulnerability, and continues the erstwhile rapper’s overarching mission to transcend the roles allotted to him. Stormzy can be any kind of artist “if you let it be”, he offers – not least a self-questioning one far more concerned with evolving than grandstanding.
Once, his tentative singing voice caused a stir when it first aired on Blinded By Your Grace Pt 2. Now it fills a number of songs on this intimate third outing, one that pines hard for his former love and often looks to God (Holy Spirit, Please). The atmosphere is downbeat, full of soulful keys; while Stormzy is focused inwards, wondering if he can forgive his father for not being in his life, he shares the spotlight with myriad guest vocalists and beatmakers. (The fabulous Sampha gets a whole track to himself.)
A handful of more hard-hitting verses on bouncier beats can’t help but punch through the considered calm though: it’s another kind of soul-baring. The title track and My Presidents Are Black confirm that this south Londoner is running “a bigger operation”; he intends to help others transcend too.
It seems fitting that when “Big Michael” – as Stormzy has occasionally referred to himself – came to make an album about heartbreak, inner peace and grownup masculinity, he would not do it by half measures. This Is What I Mean is a bold album about showing vulnerability, and continues the erstwhile rapper’s overarching mission to transcend the roles allotted to him. Stormzy can be any kind of artist “if you let it be”, he offers – not least a self-questioning one far more concerned with evolving than grandstanding.
Once, his tentative singing voice caused a stir when it first aired on Blinded By Your Grace Pt 2. Now it fills a number of songs on this intimate third outing, one that pines hard for his former love and often looks to God (Holy Spirit, Please). The atmosphere is downbeat, full of soulful keys; while Stormzy is focused inwards, wondering if he can forgive his father for not being in his life, he shares the spotlight with myriad guest vocalists and beatmakers. (The fabulous Sampha gets a whole track to himself.)
A handful of more hard-hitting verses on bouncier beats can’t help but punch through the considered calm though: it’s another kind of soul-baring. The title track and My Presidents Are Black confirm that this south Londoner is running “a bigger operation”; he intends to help others transcend too.