Available on: Big Dada LP
Many people in the past have tried to control Wiley, and they’ve all eventually failed – just ask endlessly-dissed ex-manager John Woolf. Big Dada, in a bid to make Wiley return to the label, have tried a different approach: 100% Publishing is the first non-self-released Wiley album where he’s had 100% creative control and contributed 100% of the record’s production.
Of course, what Big Dada probably weren’t prepared for is the fact that Wiley would release a free mixtape the same week as 100% Publishing’s release, and announce a swift follow-up record on his own Elusive label, titled Chill Out Zone. Suddenly his big new album doesn’t look so big after all, but look on the bright side: at least he didn’t leak the record the same way he did a previous album.
The problem with Wiley is that he’s both unmanageable and, historically at least, a terrible judge of his own music. It’s a lose-lose scenario, but also a major factor in the hero worship he gets from the underground: Wiley’s probably made more great tracks than any of his UK contemporaries over the past ten years, but very few of them have featured on his albums. To understand Wiley’s greatness, you need to have followed his self-distributed white label releases and mixtapes – if all you know is his albums (his most high-profile releases, obviously), you’re only hearing him at 40% of his powers. He had Gucci Mane syndrome long before Gucci.
That’s why, despite 100% Publishing making a good case for being Wiley’s best album to date, you should hear it alongside Creating a Buzz Vol. 1, his new free mixtape with DJ Whoo Kid, to really understand where Wiley’s at right now. Typically, if you took the best tracks from each and combined them, you’d be bordering on a Wiley classic, but you’re also looking at an eternal pipe-dream.
100% Publishing‘s incredibly consistent for a Wiley album though. His production’s not as distinctive as the Eski palette he showcased on past LP Tredding on Thin Ice, but there’s a minimal approach to delayed drums that binds the album’s backing together; somewhere between radio-friendly grime and the Neptunes. In that classic Wiley style, he explores issues far bigger than himself through the smallest possible lens: on ‘Information Age’ it’s the past ten years of the music industry via Google searches and fridge-freezers; on ‘I Just Woke Up’, his hairline and saving money through buying The Sun are the big issues of the day. Sure, it’s not exactly obsession-warranting like his hyper-abstract pirate radio bars from seven years ago were, but as Wiley gets older, he’s slipping into his role as a grime Roots Manuva with remarkable ease.
Don’t get overexcited: 100% Publishing being consistent for a Wiley album doesn’t mean it’s free of duds. ‘Boom Boom Da Na’, for instance, speaks for itself. But overall, Wiley keeps the level of quality control as high as he’s ever managed, and although his productions aren’t as distinctive as they once were, it seems that one of UK music’s most frequently controversial figures is finally learning to grow old gracefully. Well, semi-gracefully anyway.
Tam Gunn