It's all too easy to be negative about the achievements of others. But every once in a while there are definite exceptions to this rule: enter Fugative (sic), Essex's somewhat illiterate response to the countless R&B producer/rapper behemoths churned out by our transatlantic friends, and his new album, No Goin' Home.
The fact that the Loughton-born Harry Byart is only 16 may have spared him some blushes in the past. Sadly, the internet appears to be flushing out talent that's getting younger with each synthetic smash hit, thus offering no excuse for Fugative's debut flop.
If we're to believe Fugative's recent self-fueled press hype, No Goin' Home contains a "dizzying variety of styles and arrangements". And it's a claim that's debatable when attempting to make sense of the auto-tuned turmoil of 'Bad Girl'; it's a track that defines and pins down the song's focus with as much subtlety as the silver chain that insists on draping itself garishly around the neck of the babyfaced chap.
The synth-pop stinker that is 'Holiday' offers little solace. Holding no weight against the hit of the same name released by Dizzee Rascal - a true UK talent that, unlike Fugative, manages to maintain his accent when stepping into the vocal booth. In fairness, there's a beat to be found in current single 'Crush', which may make a few heads nod at a push. However, this brief glimmer of productive talent is soon obliterated if you dare listen to the bland and incoherent lyrical ramblings spouting from the month of a character who believes you "can't really pigeon hole".
Fugative's lyrical prowess is defined by 'Sticks And Stones', a track that tips its hat to the rhyming, playground, retort of the same name and perhaps a premeditated response to this very review? On the other hand, No Goin' Home is actually a pivotal album when comparing it against the rest of the creatively flourishing UK music scene.
.Fugative may be the last of the misguided teen dreamers who thinks that going "all out with skinny jeans" marks a change in creative direction. It may take more than that, dear boy.