Jah-Femi Telewa Unleashes “Sort of Like Grime “: A Nine-Track Journey Through Grit, Philosophy, and Genre-Defying Innovation

When Jah-Femi Telewa speaks, the music industry listens. Not because he shouts, but because his vocabulary amplifies truths that others merely whisper. The London-based polymath returns with “Sort of Like Grime,” a nine-track alternative hip-hop EP that refuses to be boxed, categorized, or diminished. This is not background music for passive consumption. This is art that instructs, provokes, and endures. Moreover, Jah-Femi’s art is consolidated by a résumé that reads less like a biography and more like a manifesto of intent.

As Founder & CEO of Jah-Femi Entertainment LTD, Telewa operates at a rare intersection where philosophy meets rhythm, where metaphor becomes melody, and where every bar carries the weight of lived experience. A multiple award-winning poet, rapper, composer, and orchestral creator, he has accumulated Gold, Platinum, Bronze, Highly Commended, and Commended honors across poetry, hip-hop, spoken word, instrumental composition, animation, and computer-generated music. His poetry collection J’s Words: A Collection of 50 Poems received multiple Gold-level accolades for its spiritual depth and philosophical precision. Yet Jah-Femi Telewa never rests on laurels. He builds new monuments.

“Sort of Like Grime” emerges as a masterclass in controlled aggression and narrative depth. Entirely rapped, written, arranged, composed, produced, and performed by Jah-Femi Telewa himself, the EP blends grime-influenced cadence with boom-bap discipline, sharp metaphors, and stripped-back confidence. Each track feels intentional. Cold delivery meets tight bars with no excess, creating an underground presence that never succumbs to imitation.

The journey begins with the title track, “Sort of Like Grime,” a piece that drifts between sharp UK grit and smooth introspection. Despite its name, this is not grime in the traditional sense. It is a meditation on the discipline of rhyming itself. Jah-Femi Telewa’s airy flow and clipped confidence deliver subliminal punches wrapped in calm delivery. Streetwise but never sloppy, the lyrics cut clean while the rhythm breathes easy. Attitude stays poised throughout, making this track essential listening for fans of Loyle Carner or Kojey Radical. The song manages to feel like both a conversation and a flex simultaneously, sophisticated yet slightly detached, intellectually rewarding without alienating accessibility. His vocabulary becomes his amplifier, proving he doesn’t need to scream to command attention.

“Like a Myth” featuring Gunzoo transforms the EP into a predatory hunt. This raw hip-hop cut thrives on sharp wordplay, street realism, and cold delivery as both artists trade cannibal metaphors to assert lyrical dominance. The central metaphor revolves around the cannibalistic nature of competition, with both artists utilizing the figure of Hannibal Lecter not for shock value alone, but as a symbol of intellectual and physical superiority. Jah-Femi Telewa frames his lyrical consumption as prosperity, getting “real fat” off “tasty” newcomers. When Gunzoo enters with his “Lecter-minded” persona, he describes his ribcage expanding from feasting on weak flows. The hook serves as a groove-driven anchor, a melodic chant reinforcing the song’s territorial nature. This becomes a shared hunt, a unified front of two predators circling their prey with calculated precision.

The third offering, “Fries Stay Dry,” featuring Nikos Mavridis on viola, Caitlin Thomas on cello, André Vasconcellos on electric bass, and Christiano Galvão on acoustic drums, represents a fascinating pivot toward organic instrumentation. This wandering hip-hop heartbeat tangled with country grit forms a bold roaming rhythm. The track delivers a biting critique of modern street posturing, functioning as a sophisticated reality check for the digital age. Jah-Femi Telewa manages to be judgmental without preaching, using multisensorial delivery to land his most cutting observations. The production, driven by organic sounds, allows the lyrics to breathe, ensuring every observation about whispering rent hits with maximum impact. This is a track for the steady listener navigating an unsteady world.

“Alternative Boom (Boom Bap Alternative)” reinvents boom bap through 70s soul grit and modern trap pressure. Dusty drums meet chopped samples, DJ cuts collide with head nod science. Old spirit fuses with new circuitry, built for listeners who respect history but live forward. This is a manifesto wrapped in defiance. By blending the dusty, crackling grit of 70s soul with the percussive pressure of modern trap, Jah-Femi Telewa redefines foundational genre elements. He’s not just playing the game but constructing an entirely new playground.

“Basic Tech (Boom Bap Alternative Hip Hop)” continues this boom bap alternative trajectory with a compelling left turn. Raw street realism dominates the verses before a 70s-inspired soulful switch arrives in the second verse. Heavy lyricism and lived-in imagery guide listeners through pressure, survival, and mental independence. Despite the mechanical implications of its title, the song unfolds as a deeply organic, almost Shakespearean tragedy set against alternative boom bap backdrops. Jah-Femi Telewa’s dense symbolic lyricism utilizes the warmth of 70s soul vibes as deliberate contrast to cold, darker thematic elements. It evokes a lost scene from a 1974 Blaxploitation film reimagined for the 21st-century underground.

“ToKu’s Vault” shatters boundaries entirely, fusing hip-hop, trap, orchestral tension, and Japanese vocal aesthetics into a cinematic soundscape. This is not just a treasure chest opening but a portal activation. Cinematic lows meet modern rhythm as cultures, emotion, and restraint collide in dark, immersive atmosphere designed for listeners who value narrative and evolution over formula. Jah-Femi Telewa weaves together references to Goku, Kobe, and Silver Dragons without losing his street edge, creating a frantic, high-stakes fusion where orchestral tension meets hyper-focused energy. This cinematic experience disguised as a rap song proves Telewa’s unique position in the industry.

The haunting “God Save Them…” shifts into heartfelt tribute territory, dedicated to Kevin and spoken through reflection rather than speculation. Wrestling with grief, morality, street realities, and spiritual grounding, the song employs vivid imagery and conscious lyricism to honor memory, not moments. This is remembrance through art, where faith, loss, and truth coexist without explanation or blame. The track demonstrates Jah-Femi Telewa’s capacity for vulnerability without sacrificing authenticity.

“Arabian Sonnet” transports listeners to where grey, damp British winters collide with sweltering, cinematic textures of Middle Eastern trap. Ancient melodies meet street rhythm in this fusion of Middle Eastern hip-hop trap with hard modern drums. Designed to travel across borders, cultures, and discovery algorithms, the track shimmers like a mirage. Jah-Femi Telewa proves himself a master of atmospheric rap, creating what feels like a fever dream experienced on a London bus. Bold and slightly disjointed in its narrative, much like actual dreams, the track remains sonically lush. It demands you close your eyes and dream while hard drums keep you tethered to pavement.

The final chapter, “Screwed Brew,” brings haunting organic string sections, resonant pianos, and skittering drums that underscore Jah-Femi Telewa’s haunting rapped verse alongside ethereal melodic female counterpoint in chorus and verse. This masterclass in mood-setting allows orchestral strings and the guest vocalist to carry heavy emotional lifting, making Jah-Femi’s spoken-word reflections feel like whispered truths rather than traditional rap verses. This is a song about the heartbreak of the hustle. By blending the gritty perspective of an alternative rapper with the cinematic scale of a pop ballad, Jah-Femi Telewa creates something both intimate and universal. It captures the sound of a noble spirit realizing the brew they’ve been served is, indeed, screwed.

“Sort of Like Grime” stands as testament to Jah-Femi Telewa’s refusal to compromise meaning for marketability. Across nine tracks, he demonstrates why he remains one of the most compelling voices in alternative hip-hop. This is not music that fades into playlists. This is music that storms inside your consciousness and refuses to leave. For those seeking substance over surface, philosophy over posturing, and artistry over algorithm, Jah-Femi Telewa delivers again.

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