Speech Debelle at Scala

Speech Debelle at Scala

08 October, 2009
by: Nuria

There's been a certain amount of hype surrounding South London rapper Speech Debelle ever since her 2009 debut 'Speech Therapy' unexpectedly won the Barclaycard Mercury Music Prize for Best British Album last month, beating out the 'it' girls of La Roux and Florence and the Machine, as well as popular indie-pop boys Friendly Fires.

As I await her appearance at a packed-out Scala, I wonder if she'll live up to the hype – even Alexis Petridis of The Guardian said you'd be hard-pressed to consider her album 'anything other than great'. Her response to winning the coveted award was one of genuine surprise and humility, and much has been said about her lyrical insight, inspired by a turbulent adolescence. But sometimes you wonder how much of an artist's image is the product of crafty PR work, so I'm holding my breath.

In the case of Speech Debelle, as it turns out, what you see is what you get. The 26-year-old bounces onstage with a grin, breaking up the start of acclaimed single 'The Key' three times while teasingly accusing the audience of not noticing that she's been rapping the wrong verse. With a partially-braided hairstyle, bookish glasses and an outfit consisting of sparkly black tights, grey boots, a black Chateau Roux customised t-shirt with gold lettering and a shiny, dark blue American Apparel windbreaker, she is cool yet unassuming.

Accompanying her is three-piece band The Therapists, whom she refers to as 'my lovely boys' (they play acoustic guitar, upright bass and drums, respectively). The instrumentation for her songs is jazz- and reggae-inspired, and on the recorded versions a whole range of sounds are present, including trumpets, clarinets and strings. It's a refreshing departure from the glossy, over-produced hip-hop of Tinchy Stryder and his ilk, and when performed it sure has a lot more soul.

After 'The Key' she jumps straight into the catchy 'Spinnin'', which keeps the momentum going, inciting the crowd to bop. She transmits passion and energy, which make up for moments when her voice croaks or hits an off-note. Shoulder-shrugging, she jokes about 'ridges in my throat' before reaching for a dark-coloured plastic cup and impersonating her West Indian grandmother, who apparently insists that rum is 'medicinal'. Debelle is a natural at interacting with the crowd, breezily transitioning from a humorous anecdote into a reflective pause, or mischievously playing a trick (at one point she makes us believe Roots Manuva is about to join her onstage and then admonishes us for displaying so much enthusiasm – 'you guys better clap for me like you clapped for him!' she warns).

Her performance hits a climax with two heartfelt tracks, 'Finish This Album' and 'Go Then, Bye'. The first, she explains, grew out of exasperation with not accomplishing goals, in particular while completing material for 'Speech Therapy'. It spawned the following lyrical nugget: I gotta smooth out my edges, eat more veggies, listen to my elders, vibe with my peers, confront my fears and finish this album. It's my favourite chorus, reminiscent of Dead Prez – ever the tireless advocates of better living – except Debelle actually injects humour into the equation. Same goes for poignant breakup song 'Go Then, Bye', in which she rallies the crowd to sing along. It doesn't quite pack the emotional punch of Lauryn Hill's 'Ex-Factor', but again, it's got much more wit. I like the balance Debelle achieves between being a philosopher, a storyteller and a relentless prankster.

The show clocks in at just under an hour, and my only complaint is that Debelle bails on an encore, which the crowd would've no doubt lapped up. Still, it's easy to forgive her – she really is a treat to watch.


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Nuria