Unit 3 is a UK hip-hop album by Bristolian, Cheyne Quinn aka C-Froo, who has deep roots in the local hip-hop scene going back to the start of this century and possibly earlier. Quinn also doubles as bassist for Reggae group The Fireblaze Band with Da Fuchaman. Personally, I'm ashamed to say this is the first hip-hop of his I've listened to, despite (full disclosure) me knowing Cheyne, as not quite a close friend, but more than an acquaintance! Whatever that's called. Friend I guess!
Still, this is going to be an honest review, largely because it's a good album and worth promoting. DIY US hip-hop gets loads of attention, whereas it's UK counterpart goes largely ignored. If it was another nondescript bunch of post-punk white kids, it would be hyped up, no doubt.
If Hip-hop is truth speaking and reality expressed with finesse, then C-Froo skilfully represents his internal and external worlds, using hard won experience and hard knocks as wisdom to impart, to those in need. Kind of self-help, but never coming over as preachy. Unit 3 as an album can be read as a kind of journey through the present, informed by what has been observed and learned about the world.
As C-Froo might have you believe in Mass Opposition, surrounded by sampled guitar peals, "I choose to sit back and watch the freakshow". However, this music is about sharing experience, not just passive observation and Quinn seems too conscious a man to not want to uplift the believers. He has wisdom to pass on, and understands this is hard to earn. If C-Froo does any bragging and boasting on this album, it's so you too can learn how to put some butter on your breakfast toast.
Tracks like Mass Opposition and Loyalty are full of a disappointment, in seeing former friends divided on social media, and stoked up by the mainstream media and by those in power. C-Froo can see this playing into the hands of those in power and ultimately stresses understanding and inclusivity. It's what we need in the arsehole of Bristol suburbia. Both tracks expand on the question of who should you put your trust in, in a world where ignorance is developed like a malignant growth and harvested on polling day.
I feel it's a shame that C-Froo does not make use of any live bass in his rap music. Clearly a man with a feel for reggae, it would be nice to see what he could do with some real low end throughout this album. Da Fuchaman guests on the chorus of Giddeon Warrior, where Quinn spits some deliciously dexterous lines - what are the chances of a heavily dubbed up version of this?
Another thing I reckon would work and potentially add emotion would be some sung choruses by C-Froo, think a west country Biz or Ghostface, cause Quinn is a comedic man and could pull this off well methinks. I'd also love some artful, poetic work - less narrative and more surreal, get weird. There's plenty of that once you get past St. George on the number 45 bus.
The tracks You Gotta Be and Feed the Demon are desperate character sketches, the first a hedonistic downward spiral of machismo, the second a drug tale of woe. Feed the Demon has a sweet flow influenced by Scarface.
Illumination is probably my favourite track, a centrepiece of this album. C-Froo works with a deeper, laidback and focussed flow. Astrosnares jazzy break feels like a Bristolian version of 'Across 110th Street'. C-Froo observes "a place that's encased in failings", but as always keeps it Zen. Like if notorious Kingwood nightclub Chasers had been hallucinated as Buddhist temple, but had kept the dancefloor. If Chavsploitation was a film genre, this could be the soundtrack.
Cool Breeze outlines an all too familiar refugee tale. A treacherous water crossing, met by disbelieving hatred on the other side. C-Froo lets you know where he stands. It's a story we all know, same as it ever was, still it's always surprising how few artists tackle it head on in this way. If only all those nondescript indie acts had the bollocks to confront the subject in such a direct way.
Anyone with an interest in inventive DIY hip-hop should check this out. Stands alongside Nappy Nina, Nelson Bandela, Sleep Sinatra but homegrown.
