Briggs - The Blacklist (Album)
One thing’s for sure, Briggs has not arrived quietly. Quiet being the exact opposite of his style. Invite this 22 year-old Shepparton MC to your house party, and he’d announce his appearance by bellowing his name through the doorway and smashing a couple of empties all over your welcome mat. Classy, right? Class is not what we’re aiming for here. Take a listen to any track from debut album The Blacklist and you’ll find Briggs raging out of your speakers, foul-mouthed, cocksure and pissed off at...well, everything.
Sounding like a fifth Funkoar who grew up listening the Hilltop Hoods, you’d be forgiven for crediting this release to Adelaide’s Certified Wise Crew. Not that I’d offend anyone by pointing out the similarities; Briggs wears his influences on his sleeve, with Trials (Funkoars) getting name-dropped 13 times in the lyrics book, and Suffa (Hilltop Hoods) making 16 appearances. Granted, some of those references are production credits, but this should give some indication of how obvious their fingerprints are here. But hey, Briggs isn’t aiming to separate himself from any of this, and he pre-empts criticism on “Here We Go,” crowing “Calls Trials a friend he fuckin’ looks like him/Writes rhymes like he borrow Sesta’s pen/And sounds like he stole a bunch of lines from Vents.” Good for him for being able to rhyme so clearly with tongue firmly in cheek.
If you’ve listened to Sesta (Funkoars) you won’t contest the similarity. “I Wish” is full of self-depreciating talk of being a sleazy scumbag that you’d never introduce to your parents, sitting in a bar too drunk to pick up the girls he’s slobbering over. Familiar? Whatever, it works. Most of the time Briggs slides right into this style, however he does eventually overdo and things start to feel a bit empty and recycled. He alternates with self-aggrandising tirades about his skills as a rapper/tough motherfucker, which actually come off as convincing most of the time, despite being pretty vague. When he informs you that “Briggs be the illest, believe it,” you find yourself nodding along...but wondering why he doesn’t back that up with a few reasons why before returning to rhymes about how broke he is. Consistency also becomes an issue, with some golden lines such as, “No license, but drunk enough to drive/50Cent style, shots: I took nine,” and others that fall noticeably flat, my favourite being, “See the fact is you couldn’t trust me with a cactus/That shit’d die quicker than me with a cactus.” I get it, you rhymed cactus with...ah.
The beats on The Blacklist, credited to various producers and DJs, match Briggs’ delivery perfectly. They’re heavy, catchy and deliciously horn-heavy but don’t detract from the rhymes. And before you accuse him, he’s quick to point out that he didn’t steal his beats: “Got a beat reel from Suffa, Jaytee sent another.” Enlisting the help has definitely payed off, and the record flows really well.
If anything, The Blacklist improves as it nears its end. On “Vicious Cycle,” Briggs is at the top of his game, penning the story of a kid who’s Dad abandoned his pregnant junkie Mother, and who grew up to a life of crime, eventually leaving another pregnant junkie single and scared. The story is compelling and scarily real, and you can hear the frustration in the delivery. Intense stuff.
Overall, this is a solid effort from one of the emerging forces in Aussie hip hop. If you’re anywhere near Shepparton right now, be sure to check him out before he moves to Adelaide and earns himself that ‘certified wise’ status.
