Joy and resistance and Heavy Heavy - Young Fathers

It's December, and I'm writing thinking about the past year, which has had moments, opportunities, and mental health crises that have made me  unhappy. But, I think that you're someone different from who you were yesterday. Good things are always on the horizon. Everything's in motion. I also have a big essay due for tomorrow. I should probably complete it so that I can bring about those changes.

Those ideas about happiness, are what I think a song called Rice by the Scottish band, Young Fathers is about. The lyrics discuss many things, like hearing something coming from around the corner, boarding a sailboat in convoy with seven-hundred-thousand other boats, stopping a futile search for gold, and eating food that will sustain you instead. 

 Rice is a song about joy's intensity. It's an example of the best kind of songwriting, which avoids all clear interpretation while still alluding to lots of themes and emotions. You could say this about the whole album which the song comes from: Heavy Heavy. 

Young Fathers are a band that aren't for everybody. I was struck by their eccentricity, when I watched them on TV in September. They were performing the Heavy Heavy single I Saw at the Mercury Prize 2023. The song opens with a steady guitar riff, and the camera cuts to Kayus Bankole, the band's lead rapper and spoken-word vocalist. 

Kayus is shirtless, dreadlocked, flanked by his bandmates' swaying bodies, and he glares straight down the camera with a manic-eyed stare, snarling 'I want your shield, I want your weapon... I'm not susceptible to your nonsense'. The song builds to a sledgehammer crescendo and refrain: 'brush your teeth, wash your face, run away,' with chief singers: Alloysious Massaquoi and Graham Hastings chanting 'I keep on walking on the line!' 

 Graham says this about the meaning of I Saw: "It's about Brexit, and people turning a blind eye to what’s happening and just wanting to live in their own present."  The lyrics convey this to me. Kayus, in his verse, tells a higher authority that he'll accept their protection, but won't overlook their misdeeds. 'I keep on walking the line' means two things: both "I'll ignore what's happening," and "I'll persevere and forge my own path." Young Fathers say that you can ignore things and live in your own present, but resist, persevere and be joyful at the same time.

They made headlines, and provoked the ire of far right pundits this year, when Graham rallied the Glastonbury 2023 crowd with a 'say it loud, say it clear, refugees are welcome here',  chant, dedicating their song Shame to Suella Braverman and adding 'fuck the Tories' for good measure. For me, the cool thing about this is that Young Fathers, as artists, embody their politics and don't 'gesture' to them. It's not something 'outside' of their music because it's part  of them. There aren't a whole lot of artists that you can say that about.

Their diversity makes them a striking group, and they've said as much in interviews. As a working class singer/producer from Edinburgh (Graham), a rapper born in Scotland to Nigerian parents (Kayus) and a singer/drummer who immigrated from Liberia to Scotland, when he was four (Alloysius) they certainly turn heads for your average British/American audience. 

You could say that, just like Massive Attack presented the cultural variance of Bristol in the 90s, Young Fathers present the cultural multiplicity of Edinburgh at a certain time and place. They're working class guys, incidentally from the same part of Edinburgh that Irvine Welsh (the guy that wrote Trainspotting) came from, and they present the working class perspective in a progressive and atypical manner.

They defy categories in their songs, as genre-wise, they won't be pinned down. Their songs tend to filter hip-hop, punk, gospel, soul, R&B and electro through the distorted lens of lo-fi pop and this way, they fit into Scotland's tradition of experimental art, which bewilders people (usually English audiences) and has lots of fun doing in so. Writers like Irvine Welsh, Ali Smith, A.L Kennedy and Jackie Kay, and musicians like Bert Jansch, Annie Lennox and Boards of Canada have all challenged convention through politically charged and surreal forms of expression.

Heavy Heavy is no less surreal. Graham, Kayus and Alloysius each have distinct vocal styles which intertwine in joyous yet dissonant harmony. In "Geronimo," Graham starts with a sharp, guttural whisper, followed by Alloysius' soulful voice, before both they shout in unison; 'I'm on the verge of something divine, that's gonna keep me in line... being a son, brother, uncle father figure, I gotta survive, and provide.' There's a stark contrast between the first verse and the choruses, but the song synergises.

Another "Heavy Heavy" highlight is "Shoot Me Down," which, to me, seems a surreal, trip-hop poem about police brutality, although I could be wrong. It's a lovely song, which mediates on the way that love metaphorically prevents you from fearing death. It's near impossible to distinguish in the song whether it's Kayus, Graham, or both singing: 'she placed the kiss upon my temple and blew them thoughts away', but it sounds like magic.

The magic of Heavy Heavy comes through in the live shows, on their current tour, of which I'm severely pissed off to have missed the majority. Since early days, the band have been supported by drummer Steven Morrison, who doesn't sit but stands, sways and plays drums like a ballet dancer, as if he's conducting the band as they move. On the "Heavy Heavy" tour, they've added their support act Callum Easter on guitar and keys, along with backing vocalists Kimberly Mandido and Amber Joy, resulting a seven-person line up, which becomes nothing less than a visual spectacle.

They all pace around the stage, getting close and hugging, moving away, hyping each other up, yelling, screaming, rapping, singing, dancing, harmonising, playing drums, percussion, working synths, hitting a fuck-off-big piano cord thing attached to a wooden frame. It's spiritual as all hell. There are so many great moments in a Young Fathers show. The adrenaline fuelled tempo change at the end of Toy is a clear highlight. 

I'd point also, to shows that they've done in the past. While writing this article, I found a 2018 YouTube clip of the band performing "Only God Knows", arguably their best song, which featured in the film: "T2 Trainspotting." Kayus whirls across the stage ranting "Only god knows that the people are cheating. Only god knows, you don't need him. Only god knows. Only god knows," while Graham and Alloysius back him up with sung harmonies and Steven solemnly lays down the beat out back. It's a simple, but also intense and relatively beautiful performance.

I won't go on too much. I'll leave you to explore the rich, gritty and intense world of Young Fathers while I finish writing this essay. I'll leave you with this. 

Keep on walking on the line.