More about: Dizzee Rascal

Raskit was exactly the album Dizzee Rascal needed to make in 2017. It’s been years since grime resurged to take its place as arguably Britain’s most important grassroots cultural movement, with its second-generation stars now well established.

There’s always been a sense of reverence towards those who headed the genre first time around – Wiley, Kano et al. – but with Dizzee deciding to plumb commercial, mainstream pop with more fervour than his contemporaries as the initial surge began to retreat, the state of his reputation has at points been less clear.

Enter Raskit this summer, a fierce return to Dizzee’s roots, laced in brutal blasts of staccato flow over Spartan beats. That album, more than anything, was a reminder: however many pop moneyspinners Dylan Mills has put out, his ability when going back to basics is paralleled by only a select few.

His show at the Brixton Academy has a similar statement of intent. After opening with a stampeding pair of new cuts – 'Space' and 'Ghost' – he stops DJ MK and hype man Scope in their tracks. “I’m glad they like that new album shit,” he tells them in front of a frantic crowd. “But what we really need to do here in London City is show them who started this shit in the first place.”

The threesome then launch into 'I Luv U', setting the tone for the vast majority of the night. With earsplitting beats shaking the Academy’s very foundations, Dizzee and Scope on vigorous form as they sling about the stage, and a sizeable share of pyrotechnics and smoke to add to the fervour, they pinball from the old to the new with breathless abandon.

The energy’s reciprocated by a ravenous crowd, with the trio onstage clearly dab hands at maintaining pandemonium. It’s heartening to see the Raskit material greeted with such genuine enthusiasm, but of course it’s the Boy In Da Corner cuts that garner the most frenetic response, with 'Fix Up Look Sharp' and 'Jus’ A Rascal' performed with earth-shaking power.

Had he left it there, this would be a titan of a homecoming set, a back to basics powerhouse on a par with his similarly bracing new record. But to pretend Dizzee Rascal’s time as a Calvin Harris-collaborating, school disco-soundtracking pop star simply didn’t happen would be unfair. Like them or not, the mainstream bangers get their airing for the final stages of the show. 'Bassline Junkie' is followed by 'Dance Wiv Me', which is followed by the particularly garish 'Holiday'.

It’s notable scrolling twitter after the show that there’s a few voices of discontent at this sudden shift in impetus after such a triumphant celebration of the old school, but it’s hard to deny that for the majority it’s these songs that prove the cherry on the cake. Dizzee returns for his encore, apologetically announcing that he’s just been informed he’s overrun the Academy’s curfew, before turning round with that familiar, mischievous grin. “Only joking!” he laughs to a cheer, before launching into 'Bonkers'. On a personal level, I wish he hadn’t played this epitome of the underwhelming pop years, and it’s clear that one or two among the crowd are of the same opinion. However, it’d be hard to deny the vast majority of the crowd their gleeful enjoyment. Confetti is fired as the evening ends, a show that epitomises every aspect of Dizzee Rascal as one of Britain’s most significant artists of the last two decades: often underestimated, often brilliant, occasionally infuriating.

More about: Dizzee Rascal