McKinley Dixon — For My Mama And Anyone Who Look Like Her Review
“Ultimately, it proves one of the more memorable and creative independent hip-hop ventures in recent memory.”
If you haven’t heard of McKinley Dixon then count yourself unlucky. For My Mama And Anyone Who Look Like Her follows the twin albums of 2018 with an eleven-track exemplary work of introspective homegrown hip-hop.
This is a project often defined by the unrelenting strength, confidence, and energy behind McKinley Dixon and his features’ flows. That’s not to say that the instrumentation is insignificant, rather each track’s instrumental is tailor-made to curate the right atmosphere, but the strength of these rhymes is easily one of the stronger sonic themes throughout much of the album. It’s first evident on ‘Chain Sooo Heavy’ but, by ‘make a poet Black’, you’ll realise just how masterful some of Dixon’s vocal work on this project can be, even on those occasions where the song is otherwise mostly sparse. But, on ‘poet’, that sparseness is itself typically punctuated by some sleek production, magnifying the scope of the initial instrumentation to one much more grandiose and operatic in nature.
The opener ends up going out in a slow sleepy buildup before the springier instrumentation can signpost the beginning of ‘Never Will Know’, itself a banger making a welcome addition to the tracklist. Its unique blend of maximalist elements, with some unflinching and vibrant bars from its three featured voices and a potent instrumental, paired with a much more subdued introduction, leaves the track in a high-power hip-hop banger state. It’s a real high point of the album, helped along by a robust set of features and some excellent mounting tension throughout really capitalising on the opportunities offered by the brass inclusions. As discussed, there’s some palpable strength to the flows throughout the album; track two’s have a really fun bounce to them, helping in synchronicity with the more demanding and dense instrumentation. You’d be forgiven for expecting ‘Bless the Child’ to take a more subtle approach, to grant the album some room to breathe in this early leg of the ride, but the ethereal qualities of its opening vocal section shortly give way to some cerebral and seriously stylish bars, kicking the track into action. By the mid-point of the song, it becomes clear that this is a track of action, with a constant forward motion, all of which building steadily and triumphantly to a crescendo in the wake of a frenetic high-energy a capella moment, audio manipulated in places to create an effect that’s truly unique.
‘Swangin’’ is, more or less, kinda bangin’. But it feels like a less distinct contribution, significantly lacking that character demonstrated by the first few tracks, like its instrumentation and pitched-down vocals would have been just as at home on the recent BROCKHAMPTON project. And while that kind of comparison is broadly favourable, it definitely lessens the shining freshness of the album’s standout moments, even with that patented Dixon confidence. It would be performative to criticise the track further, as on its own merits it proves more than serviceable, but that serviceability, while listenable, makes for one of the more forgettable excursions on the album. And that’s simply a shame considering what Dixon seems capable of.
‘brown shoulders’ would probably fall victim to some degree of forgettability too, but Ms Jaylin Brown’s feature on the track gives Dixon’s relatively lower energy flow room to breathe and create a pleasant sonic symbiosis towards the track’s closing moments. It’s a high note to go out on, too, considering the gloomy atmosphere its successor employs, with suspenseful sax, gloomy piano, and a really haunting effect curated by some excellent strings.
When this album takes more focused turns, as with ‘protective styles’, it’s with great effect; the track in question bears a serene, dreamlike quality, harmonic vocals and lullaby strings punctuated by some lazy brass instrumentation. The Abby T. feature is also a real treat, making you wish she was brought a little further to the forefront in the mix here, despite how well her voice is utilised throughout the track as released. Dixon’s bars adopt an easygoing rhythm that perfectly suits the track, though it’s somewhat marred by a “You ready? Yeah…” pre-verse line that comes across as somewhat disingenuous and pointless in hindsight given the coming verse is among the tamest and briefest on the album. That said, it adds to the more self-conscious aspect of the verse, with its awkward self-awareness of its own poetry, and McKinley's declared intention to keep this track soft enhances the charm when you consider how much fun he has getting into a good flow. It’s a welcome change of pace before ‘Swangin’’ gets back on the rap-heavy ride.
By the two-thirds mark of the album, you’ve already got a solid impression that Dixon knows what he’s doing. And at this point, it becomes safe for him to plateau, having attained a certain standard of quality, with a run of really solid hip-hop tracks. ‘B.B.N.E’ proves for one of the most poignant and sombre additions, bringing back that sax once more to empower some more introspective lyricism. Now an established presence, the return of the saxophone in this last leg fosters a kind of warmth amidst the instrumentals and bars and guest features. Among those guests is Micah James, returning from his presence on ‘Never Will Know’. And the Alfred verse on ‘Mama’s Home’ folds in another layer to an already interesting track, one most tonally recollective of those familial and sentimental tracks in the depths of the Kanye discography and similar in its atmosphere to Vic Mensa’s ‘Say I Didn’t’. It all feels very personal, incorporating a level of opulent orchestration, a tasteful flute solo, some real easy-on-the-ears harps, really pushing outside of the album’s established box into some much more elaborate sonic territory. And the best part is it works, forming one of the more engaging tracks on the back half of the album.
At eleven tracks and nearing fifty minutes in length, you’d be like me in first assuming that Dixon was biting off more than he could chew with this album. Yet the man delivers with the kind of finesse and sophistication that you rarely get to see smaller hip-hop artists actualise in such a grassroots project. Ultimately, it proves one of the more memorable and creative independent hip-hop ventures in recent memory, with most tracks honed to near-perfection and accommodating only a scant handful of what one would dare to call “filler”. Rewarding multiple listens, this is a dense album that tries a great deal and succeeds at much that is well-deserving of your time.
