Whenever any party from outside of the mean streets of Compton try to penetrate the rap genre, it generally ends in an identity crisis; middle class kids rapping about how tough life is, before leaving the studio and returning to their semi in Twickenham. Yet Only Real – otherwise known as Niall Galvin – has obscured any such problems on his debut album Jerk at the End of the Line, siphoning indie message of love, loss and youth through rap-shaped verses. This means of staying true to ones identity resonates with the acts name/philosophy/mantra, with Niall priding himself and his friends on being ‘only real guys’.
Album highlight ‘Cadillac Girl’ has been making rounds on the underground circuit since early 2012, with infectious beach beats that conjures images of palm-tree tinged nostalgia. It is deceivingly easy to forget when listening to this track that the act consists, or was at least was founded by one West Londoner and his computer. Only Real, like his influences, is a palette of contradictions, fusing California soaked vibes with airy pop guitar riffs and a decidedly British approach to lyrical content, recounting flaws in himself and dreamy romances with fellow Londoners.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-q5nFR-EW7U&w=740&h=422]
With any act that refuses to adhere to the templates of one genre, it is very hard to tell a listener exactly what to expect from this record, but with its indie self-assessment mixed with dreamy eyed summer scents, the Swim Deep audience may have found their own Jamie T substitute. Despite a promising start to a long, crowd-pleasing career, Only Real is far from troubling the Pyramid stage of Glastonbury for awhile, as many tracks on ‘Jerk at the End of the Line’ use very similar templates, effectively deeming several tracks as redundant filler.
There is also a lack of variation on the record, until the later stages where ‘Cadillac Girl’, ‘Backseat Kissers’ and album closer ‘When this Begins’ gives this debut an element of depth. It took years of anticipation for the 23 year old to release this work and overall, it has been worth the wait, but Only Real walks a terrifyingly thin line between sun-tinged indie masterpieces and insignificant BBQ music.
Words by Matt Ganfield
@mattganfield