Nowadays, most Americans’ British impersonations will invariably mention “peng tings from the ends” and leave the letter ‘T’ unpronounced. You can thank Central Cee for that, the international mainstream’s current UK ambassador. But rewind a few decades – when all we were known for was tea and crumpets – and you’ll see why the toughness of London’s rap scene failed to cross the pond. 

This language barrier would be broken in 2016, when an open letter to the US came out of North London signed not with hello, but Konnichiwa. Skepta’s commitment to the UK grime sound on Konnichiwa is staggering: the same hard-hitting beats of classic gang anthems would also soundtrack love ballads – grime runs alongside haemoglobin through Skepta’s veins. 

It’s easy to recognise the brilliance of this sound – ‘Shutdown’ doesn’t pack such immediate rawness if not cobbled together by simple out-of-the-box sound effects – but to the untrained ear, this simplicity reads as lazy and crude. Fortunately for Skepta, his reputation one of grime’s founding fathers had earned him connections with a few American artists who understood the brief – Skepta was instrumental in constructing Kanye’s iconic BRITs gatecrash a year prior. 

Hence, Konnichiwa gets its message across by tuning itself to American palettes: two A$AP mob members are enlisted to sink ‘Ladies Hit Squad’ into a flirtatious east-coast club sound, while Pharrell’s explosive contribution to ‘Numbers’ reeks of Southern trap more potently than the contemporary songs of that genre. 

It would not take long for London’s streets to treat Skepta with messianic regard, an apt denomination considering his gritty vocal tone that was more akin to an enraged political activist than an emcee. A skit playing a recording of a vulnerable phone call shows that Skepta was conscious of the responsibility such a role carried, overwhelmed by the balancing act between authenticity and stardom. 

This gravity makes the biting textures of Konnichiwa’s world so much more profound: a hilarious taunt-off between a flamboyant American Call of Duty player and his fed-up Londoner opponent, and outward rejections of consumerism (“I used to wear Gucci / I put it all in the bin ’cause that’s not me”). 

“Rather than ‘breaking’ America, I just want British rap to be treated as just another state”, Skepta told The Fader, “Britain is just another place that raps”. His feature on A$AP Rocky’s long-awaited third album garnered this recognition, a co-sign which was pivotal in encouraging open-mindedness not just to his own sound but also to classic UK artists like Dave and Stormzy. 

Ultimately, the sleek drill sound is far more intuitive to American tastes, hence Central Cee’s pop appeal and success. But the curt British accent could not simply be snuck into their soundscape – Skepta knew it needed a proper introduction. And that is why Konnichiwa opens with a gong crash and the slash of Samurai swords. 

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