He’s achieved Elder Statesman status now…
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[7.14]
Brad Shoup: This thing gurgles more than a mad scientist’s lab; it’s positively sloshing over the side. Wiley’s been gone for a minute, but he’s back to bring the… prudent financial advice. I wish he’d gone full #RariWorkOut and made budgeting sound like the denchest thing, but as his track is happy to note, his catalog’s paying dividends.
[7]
Ashley Ellerson: I appreciate nice grime rhymes. I appreciate Wiley telling us why he’s one of the best in the game AND dropping advice for the kids. He’s been “missing on the grid” for awhile, but he’s come back to prove that he hasn’t lost his grimy talent. Dude drops the line “I say no till I’m living off shekels” when he could’ve used “pennies” instead, and maybe I’m too easily impressed by that line. Wiley could have dissed other grime artists to level himself up, but he chooses to promote the success of himself and his crew like a true champ.
[9]
Megan Harrington: Grime is a dated sound that, like synthesizers, periodically sounds rejuvenated. But while Wiley’s production is once again urgent and subterranean, the -izzle rhyme scheme is an instant cringe.
[5]
W.B. Swygart: Default “get out of bed”/”be awake”/”do not fall asleep on the tram”/”choose a sandwich filling”/”buy some yogurt” anthem for the past month or so, in which a fizzing, thunderstick-clanging beat flicks into life, before Wiley merrily sets about reminding us that he is truly the Wileyest of all possible Wileys, tossing off riddim for the holiday season to his adoring subjects (existence unconfirmed but we’ll defer to him), before counselling them on living within their means, innit. It’s weird just how much happier he sounds here than on his Actual Number One Singles That He’s Actually Had; his brightest moments always seem to come when he can just get one thought and ride it all the way home without anyone else getting in the way. Not going to award actual bonus points for him gluing a patch that says WICKED onto his shirt collar, but they’re there in a moral sense.
[8]
Will Adams: The clattering production (dig that taffy bassline) threatens to swallow Wiley, but he’s swift enough to dodge the obstacles.
[6]
Micha Cavaseno: Whereas Skepta’s “That’s Not Me” was pimping nostalgia for the 13 (!) years of grime in order to distract from how inept he’s become as an MC, Wiley’s never lost the ability to spit well. Rather, his main fault was the increasing dilution of his preferred environment. But no longer! Over a nail-biting selection of Eski-Pastiche, Eskiboy’s amorphous vocals slip and slide through the toxic neon murk with eternal ease.
[9]
Alfred Soto: His adherence to grime is reassuring — no Calvin Harris moves for this guy. Proficiency is what it sells.
[6]