GRIME 2.0

The stage turns into an arsenal of words: the microphone is not just a tool, but a disguised truncheon, which is more convenient for unlocking the doors of success than explaining one's feelings. Each phrase is a short throw; bragging sounds like a business report, and threats sound like an advertisement for a premium service: ‘the issue is being resolved - and everything will no longer be the same.’ The vocals are cold and confidently smiling, as if the obligatory drama has been tinted with a filter of sarcasm.

Behind this bravado, there is a pragmatic warmth - not for the sake of blood, but for the sake of a chair, a bank account, and peace of mind for relatives: three generations who can now breathe a sigh of relief. What is more important is not so much the scene as how noise turns into daily bread - and in the end, all claims of ‘inferiority’ are echoed, stuffed into a pocket. A little irony for those who still argue about genres: you can call it whatever you want, but this ‘crime’ has its own payment plan and its own crown.