Classic tune from the SLK vaults here, one of the many legendary grime crews to have faded into semi-obscurity in the latter stage of the noughties (aside perhaps from the still iconic vocal acrobat Flirta D). The heart of the track is a monstrous pulse that roars in the low end, fidgety post-garage drums as the only accompaniment. For a beat this animalistic the only vocals that can possibly compete are pure primal bars, the hook a guttural scream- ‘W-A-AARRRGGGH, forward forward- PULL UP DAT FORWARD’. Hard to argue with really.
Although Flirta’s superhuman larynx and doubletime rhymes are what helped characterise SLK’s aggressive but leftfield sound, here Ribz steals the show. His brutally simplistic lyrics and a delivery that alternates between gruff threats and frustrated howling both intimidates and entertains. He walks the perfect line between thuggishness and tongue in cheek parody- ‘You’ll get left with holes in your clothes/ In hospital, wires in your nose blud/ ‘Cos you got shanked in the ribs/ Not my ribs, your ribs/ You’re not Ribz, I’m Ribz/ Don’t tell fibs, I carry the big chib-you get blazed in your livs’.
More minimal than the hottest German techno tune and twice as ferocious as a metal track from that phase you went through, do yourself a favour and blow out the sub with this one.