London is a city factioned by class and cultural minutiae. It’s the rope in a tug-of-war between natives and a swelling crowd of commuters, newcomers and tourists. Bikelife rideouts strive to reclaim gentrified central streets. Chicken Shop Date earns ad revenue off blatant class tourism. I once spoke to a girl who moved to Catford because it had “cat” in the name.
Bucky’s Come Back is a sprawling document of a South London kept hidden from visitors; a place of loneliness and kinship, danger and beauty. But it’s also kind of a break-up album, eulogising a city that once valued its inhabitants, and exploring the pain of letting that go. ‘Had to Leave’ repurposes its vocal hook beautifully, as words once aimed at an ex-lover are redirected to a birthplace.
‘Knives & Daggers’ is the first of many tracks on Come Back which address the city’s knife crime “epidemic”—something national press describe like a virus, but for which recommend no curative measures. The track moves in swathes of gorgeous, Vangelis-esque ambience, an elegiac counterpoint to the beat-driven material around it. It exalts the rapper MDot, who was stabbed to death some years ago but whose death is still just as keenly felt.
More ambient tracks pepper the album, and are hugely effective when they show up. ‘Estate’ yawns with space like the roads of a community in which no one drives, with gentle blasts of what can only be described as glitch. It’s an otherworldly track—the only thing which bears comparison is some Caretaker material (particularly Everywhere at the end of time — Stage 5).
‘Pirates’ immediately follows that track—a nostalgia-packed banger that pays tribute to London’s pirate radio stations. It’s a scene which is very much still alive, instantly accessible online, yet nowadays only recognised by the mainstream in parody—like Kurupt FM’s four-stars-from-the-Guardian “podkast”. The track features some shell-casing tinkles as percussion, one of a few nods Bucky makes here to future garage poster boy Burial. But while Come Back can lean on some stereotypical garage sounds, it has a richness and ambition entirely of its own. ‘Angel’ is practically orchestral, filled out with rich string samples and yearning bass. ‘Walk Away’ is like RnB vaporwave; a track almost as simple in concept as it is heartbreakingly glorious in execution.
The effect is something like Gaspar Noé’s Into the Void; a bodiless and sometimes invasive bird’s eye view of a city both dark and luminous. Come Back is a hugely ambitious album which sticks the landing, leaves no street unexplored, and should probably be on the citizenship test.
Come Back is available to purchase and stream here.
Words by Andrew O’Keefe
