Mike Skinner's comeback has been long in the making. After retiring the
Streets project in 2011, he spent some wilderness years serving as both a family man and DJ for hire amid the London club scene he'd so faithfully documented on classic albums like
Original Pirate Material and
A Grand Don't Come for Free. When
the Streets began making noise again in the late 2010s, it was often in the form of collaborative singles with
Skinner serving as elder statesman to up-and-comers like
Hak Baker,
Idles, and
Ms Banks. That phase, which resulted in the guest-heavy mixtape
None of Us Are Getting Out of This Life Alive, seems to have been a stepping stone to the far more substantial
The Darker the Shadow the Brighter the Light. In addition to being the first
Streets album in 12 years, it's also the soundtrack to a self-written, self-directed (self-funded, even) feature film of the same name in which
Skinner stars. For better or worse,
Skinner is a singular voice who operates best when building his own worlds, narrating them, and producing them.
The Darker the Shadow the Brighter the Light is advertised as a noir murder mystery whose central character is a London club DJ. It is firmly in
Skinner's storytelling bailiwick, and over its 15 tracks, he hits his marks, occasionally dazzling and at the very least adhering to the distinctive world he's built over five previous records. Lyrically, his signature cocktail of wit, poignancy, and abstract observation remains potent; he is more self-effacing than before, but still sharp and able to toss out eccentric, sometimes eerie observations ("I think the driver is asking for something to happen so he can catch it on his crash cam"). Occasionally, he stays in lanes a little too familiar -- "Too Much Yayo" and "Money Isn't Everything" feel like
Streets tracks we've heard before. But in other places, that familiarity works to his advantage; the quirky singsong melodies, the scrappy production aesthetic, and the welcome return of his classic vocal foils
Kevin Mark Trail and
Rob Harvey all make this feel like an event. The album is paced like one of his DJ sets, very seamlessly and thoughtfully sequenced, and his distinctive cadence as a poet/rapper/vocalist remains one of
the Streets' most unique aspects. There are standouts, for sure: the dark skittering Western of "Walk of Shame" and the bouncy jazz age-sampling title track in particular are boundary-pushing highlights. Overall, it feels less like a comeback and more like the latest chapter in the ongoing saga
Skinner has been spinning since 2002. ~ Timothy Monger
