Hitsville UK…

[Video]
[6.00]

Thomas Inskeep: You could call this “Clash (of the Titans),” since that’s essentially what this is: the two rap kings of the UK, together at last. Being an old-schooler, Stormzy is more my style (it’s just his flow), but Dave’s no slouch. The beat is a little too simple sing-songy until it switches up at 2:45, at which point it does a better job of supporting both of the guys. Not the dream collab I might’ve wished for, but still (so) solid.
[7]

Nortey Dowuona: So this is actually much better than I originally thought. For one, it’s pretty heavy but also bouncy, with this heavy handed bass smushing the thin hotel pianos and flat hotel keyboards. Secondly, Dave’s “one” rhyme scheme is so surprising catchy I got kinda bummed he didn’t end the verse with it. Thirdly, Stormzy is surprisingly charming and funny on this one. (He also sends for Chip but at this point he needs to accept that he got got.) Finally, Dave wears a coat of all colors but never brings any attention to it. Truly a Jacob move.
[7]

Andy Hutchins: Minor-key menace on the instrumental, practiced effortless flexing in the verses: The formula may not fit a song titled “Clash,” and certainly left more than enough on the bone for the vulturine Chip to make a meal of, but neither Dave nor Stormzy is really trying to win anything here. Rather, this is a victory lap ’round an Aston Martin test track — undeniably, big flex is inventing one — or an exercise in shadowboxing, and both cloud-dwelling Brits have more than enough pop in their gloves and laconic wordplay in their verses (“My left wrist retired“; “Coulda penned ‘im one/’Ca you’re pendin’ one”) to do circles around their foes while the bass bounces off the ocean floor. Touching gloves and getting dirty might be more entertaining and would certainly be more true to grime, but why give and take body shots when sniper rifles are at hand?
[8]

Mark Sinker: First impression is maybe a clipped blizzard of signifiers of success (material, sexual, gang-martial), but behind the flaunting the tonemood is conflicted gloom at best — as if to say all these wins but are we really winning? When Stormzy jumps in after Dave, the energy does lift for a moment, but the slump beds back in, and we keep re-cycling through that chorus — tory-labour-corbyn-diss — that can’t avoid translating as a defeat.
[5]

Scott Mildenhall: A not inconsiderable amount of effort has gone into the wordplay, but any chance it has of being memorable is quelled by a lifeless production which would do little for even a more expressive vocalist. If you hold an investment in Stormzy’s relationship with Mr Munk, perhaps there’s more; if not, at least there’s the telling implication of a world in which Corbyn still represents Labour, is consequently Prime Minister, and the song sounds considerably better.
[4]

Andrew Karpan: A gorgeous set of bars that cross each other like two arrows heading twain into the deep night; Dave’s voice has a kind of sadness that somehow still feels fresh to behold, a bored affect that remains subtly moving. And when you scratch the record’s surface, you find out that the jokes he and Stormzy exchange are about pensions and mortgages and, in some way, one can’t help but think this underlines grime’s still-fundamental resistance to escapism.
[7]

Oliver Maier: Dave, morose as ever, is ably upstaged by the sharper and funnier Stormzy (“the machine got sweets, on a vending one”). UK rap’s dearth of imaginative producers in the mainstream continues to pose an issue.
[3]

Alfred Soto: Less epochal than the credits would suggest, and all the better for it. Less complex than the pairing would suggest, also all to the better. I suggest Dave find a girlfriend worth the Labour. 
[7]