Today is Valentine's Day which means, like any other day, you fall into one of two categories: getting laid or not getting laid. You might be in the second category out of choice – in which case I congratulate you on your self-restraint – but let's be honest, if you're reading this you're probably not getting laid for some other reason. Maybe you're stuffing your face with Love Hearts while channelling the wilted rose emoji. Perhaps you've just been dumped? Or you've been ghosted? If you've just been cheated on then I hope you've set up a £0.01 standing order for every day you were together with the ref: LYING PRICK. If you haven't: I've read about it, it sounds counter-intuitive but works, and is totally worth the money – especially if other forms of retaliation have gifted you with a restraining order.
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Now, while I'm the last person to suggest turning back the clock on the sexual revolution, I wonder if there's something to be said for 19th-century romantic relationship navigation. Y'know, the era of courtship and lifelong marriage and all that shit. When couples took their time to get to know each other and then stuck with their significant other even if they grew to hate everything about them. Why? Because abandonment reflected badly on their core being. Also it was almost impossible for women to divorce men because the patriarchy.Still, relationships and morality were a little more entwined than they are today for better or worse, and as far as most poetry was concerned people really had to put in work if they wanted to hook up with someone rather than blanket-send the same gif of Mr Krabs to 30 people on Tinder and hope for the best. In a modern world where even Beyoncé, as close as you will get to sentient perfection, has to dedicate an album to putting her man back in his damn place, you might laugh in my face when I tell you old romantics still exist. You might laugh even harder when I tell you men like this still exist. And, although you're probably already choking on those Love Hearts, let me tell you something else: these men exist prominently within grime.Sure, grime lyrics may largely be a mixture of sends, batty appreciation, and shouting "pow!" or "pop!" in a powerful manner. But if you think about it, grime culture is predicated on many of the same principles as 19th-century courtship: loyalty, honour, pride. These sentiments may exist within male-centred crews, but there is ample evidence of men doing the right thing by their partners as well. So fling your tissues and that scratched copy of The Notebook in the fucking bin. Here are some realistic bangers to restore your faith in humanity and take ownership of Valentine's Day for your single self: to help you dream of OTT romance and even bigger Ds.
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Skepta – "Text Me Back"
Scorcher – "My Diary"
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Klashnekoff – "Black Rose"
This is some real Romeo & Juliet shit. Klashnekoff and his gf are still in school when he gets her up the duff. "Your brother's vexed, your dad dashed out your mother's place/ Said when he die, don't want to see your face at his grave/ But fuck him anyway," Klash raps, in response to news of her family disliking the pre-graduation pregnancy. Who knows how Klashnekoff's girlfriend feels about her relationship with her family, but it's clear he isn't going to flake: "I speak through my actions/ And treat you like diamonds on consignment/ Protect you from the parasites and pirates/ And prepare to get violent for our love." Hell yeah! That's some true badass monogamy right there.
Sway feat. Stush – "F Ur Ex"
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Kano – "Nite Nite"
Tinie Tempah – "Wifey "
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Bugzy Malone – "Beauty and the Beast"
Stormzy – "Birthday Girl"
Gage – "Crybaby Remix"
Aside from making the perfect soundtrack to the angry phase of a breakup when you feel compelled to throw all your ex's stuff out the window, Gage's remix of Abra's "Crybaby" is the sonic equivalent of when a man rolls up his sleeves and actually tries to understand a woman. In other words, a tribute. The spine-tingling production on this version of the track feels like that magic moment when two people suddenly "get" each other and here Abra's despair turns into hope in audial Technicolor.