Fame may finally be taking its toll on the man, or perhapsit's his heavy touring schedule, or just good old substance abuse. Orit may all be hearsay, as the rapper himself has yet to directlyaddress the subject. The only explanation the public will receive is onthe resulting intensely personal and uncharacteristicly emotionalrecord. At first glace, little has changed: Manuva's signature styleremains constant, his authoritative patois commanding respect andattention from track to track, whether he's getting the ladies todance, warning would-be steppers to steer clear, or crying out to thehigher powers for salvation. Never a technically dazzling rapper,Manuva's three quarter speed cadence and stacatto delivery areperfectly suited for his sound, simple but infectious and truly unique:obvious reggae, dub and dancehall influences pervade the fourteentracks, but not without a healthy dose of UK electronic. Thecombination serves to make Manuva at home delivering stomping dancehalltunes, violent diss tracks or thoughtful inner monlogues alike—andsometimes all on the same track. At times, the diversity is borderlineschizophrenic, threatening to disrupt Awfully Deep's balance.It may be intentional or a result of Manuva's emotional frustrations:"I can't figger out what they want from Smith," he laments in"Thinking." Either way, despite of or maybe because of his side issues,the South London steppin razor has delivered his best album yet, asonic and emotional rollercoaster.
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