The Singles Jukebox

From Guernsey; from Northampton (but he’s also lived in Scunthorpe)…

[Video][Website]
[6.08]

Vikram Joseph: Well, this was more fun than I’d anticipated. Over a brash, bassy Mura Masa beat, Slowthai — irrepressible, ridiculous, hugely endearing — dismisses a series of grievances at short order, and runs through a few of his own for good measure (“People say they’re busy, well FFUUCCKK OFFFF!”). It sounds a bit like a 2020 grime-punk update of “Parklife”, but whereas you’d cross the road to avoid Phil Daniels’ narrator, you’d happily spend Saturday afternoon drinking with Slowthai.
[7]

Brad Shoup: I legit laughed at “that’s deep innit”. Mura Masa gives a plain bass progression riff heft and spikes, and it’s a shame Slowthai couldn’t really push things to absurdity. He tells me to deal with, like, ten things. I wish he’d gone for sixty and made them as picayune as possible.
[5]

Katherine St Asaph: A fantastic oversaturated bass-and-guitar arrangement in search of about 150% more quotable punchlines.
[6]

Iain Mew: Slowthai’s matter-of-fact forcefulness is engaging and he has some good lines on gentrification and other change. Any through line gets ripped away by Mura Masa, though, cutting everything up to push it into a monochrome, barely-as-spiky “Parklife.” 
[4]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Slowthai is so goddamn British-sounding that you have no choice but to consider “Parklife” and The Prodigy as precedent. But the nervous funk of Mura Masa’s beat and the tense way that Slowthai chants his lines ends up sounding more like middle American early new wave, a more muscular David Byrne or a sedated Mothersbaugh. It works more than I would expect, an unlikeable song that’s brazen enough to loop back around to charming.
[7]

Scott Mildenhall: As much as it sounds like someone has dusted off an old, mislabelled “Parklife (Audio Bullys Remix)” MP3, “Deal Wiv It” has spades of the vitality lacking in most releases from artists lauded by headline writers as the voice of whatever generation they’ve invented that week. The incoherence of Slowthai’s contributions does feel like the result of being dashed off, but also like the incoherence of simmering frustration. With Mura Masa meeting him with controlled chaos, he reaches an aggressive contentment. It’s exactly the thing that the same old people have fetishised since forever, but on its own terms it rings legitimate.
[8]

Ian Mathers: I didn’t like The Streets that much, what makes you think I’m going to like what sounds like The Streets taking the piss?
[2]

Thomas Inskeep: Talk about incredibly unexpected reference points: between the way Slowthai talk/raps and the no wave/funk groove that Mura Masa is working, this reminds me more than anything of LCD Soundsystem’s “Losing My Edge.” On top of that, lyrically, “Deal Wiv It” gives me a little bit of Dizzee Rascal. So, in sum: a) 2004-ish and b) thumbs way up.
[8]

Alex Clifton: The sound of Damon Albarn, the jittery energy of the Kaiser Chiefs, the punchy delivery of Courtney Barnett, a touch of LCD Soundsystem’s arrangement — all comparisons I can make, but this stands entirely on its own. This is punk as hell. I have listened to it five times in a row, and I will force everyone I know to listen to this, too.
[8]

Alfred Soto: The artists hedge their bets, lord knows why. Nice bass, though.
[5]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Not obnoxious enough, really. Even the chorus’s trick — an edit of the titular line that renders it all the snarkier — is an obvious sort of clever.
[4]

Kayla Beardslee: What makes “Deal Wiv It” so gritty yet endearing is the way it flips between careful consideration and sarcastic indifference. The thoughtful line “Every second you waste is a second closer to the pearly gates” is followed by the self-aware “Ah, that’s deep innit, that’s deep mate”; the detailed, artificial vocal chops contrast the wild guitars and Slowthai’s frustrated shouts; the chorus is structured but still invites yelling along. On the surface, the production sounds abrasive, but I suspect that the high energy and flippant, observational lyrics would make the song feel appropriate for just about any mood.
[7]

Oliver Maier: The sense that Slowthai’s friends and neighbourhood are growing distant from him, not to mention his recent superstardom, are not enough to dispel the feeling that his day-to-day experience is still the same as it ever was, cyclical and unglamorous and often quite shit. “Deal Wiv It” is full of small contradictions like this, expressed via a rant that calls to mind Parklife and Original Pirate Material and lands somewhere between the two in terms of sincerity. Slowthai’s ramble seems always on the verge of a laugh, and he rebukes his own instinct to frame his dilemma in explicitly existential terms (“Every second you waste is a second closer to the pearly gates…. ahh that’s deep innit?”). He flirts with a few topics like this before swinging on his heel and jovially dashing each train of thought with a “deal wiv it!”, and the distorted flurry in the hook seems to drive the point home: Slowthai isn’t looking for answers or even really asking questions. It’s surprising, and maybe even a step back coming from an artist whose debut so often grappled with the political, but there’s something to be gained from the bratty catharsis. Mura Masa’s contribution is less vapid than usual, a brutalist dance-punk backdrop for Slowthai to air his gripes over, and in the middle eight it becomes apparent that the airing-out is the point. “They say I can’t speak my mind or vent my frustration”; now having the freedom to do exactly that and following it up with nothing but a shrug is the sniggering heart of “Deal Wiv It”. Somehow, it ends up being a victory lap.
[8]