Despite living in an age where the internet is supposed to bring us all together, there can still be big cultural gaps in pop culture. London artist Plan B has been very successful in the UK, where his sophomore effort going platinum in Europe, but he remains largely unknown in the States. His latest effort is actually the soundtrack to a film he that he wrote and directed, which was designed to have six songs serve as the narration for the film, telling the tale of eight characters as they deal with violence in the streets of London. I’d love to see the film so that I could have a more complete understanding of the project as a whole, but it has yet to have been released stateside. In the mean time, though, we do have an interesting hip hop album to listen to.

Knowing that the record is accompanying a film and telling a story, it makes sense that the album would have grand ambitions. The title track, which opens the album, is one of the strongest track ones in recent memory, bursting with energy, telling an urgent story of rebellion against oppression and class warfare while frantic strings are looped and aggressive drums push the song forward. Plan B immediately reveals why he’s been so successful, as he delivers intelligent rhymes that put both his personal story of growing up poor in London and an analysis of the larger political and economic situation in perspective, all with a punk energy and attitude that is surely meant to inspire listeners to rise up in resistance. It’s this track in particular that makes me think that this is what P.O.S. would sound like if he was British. However, Plan B goes in several different directions from there. “I Am The Narrator” manages to walk a really interesting line between G-Funk (The Murder Was The Case soundtrack immediately came to mind) and a Tim Burton/Danny Elfman film score. “Drug Dealer” marks the first time it doesn’t quite come together, despite some excellent production from Al Shux and Plan B. It’s mostly due to a weird chorus sung by Takura, in which he just sings the phrase “Mr. Drug Dealer” over and over in an R&B/Reggae style that makes an otherwise strong song sound cheesy. “Playing With Fire” is far and away the most blatant attempt to have a commercial crossover hit, with Labrinth, a Simon Cowell signed artist, providing a big pop rock hook that just comes across as forced and awkward. Plan B continues to struggle with this for a few more songs until he finds his voice again on “Lost My Way,” which actually makes great use of a gospel/blues chorus juxtaposed with an ominous and stark piano line that plays out over some really aggressive drums. Most importantly, though, is that Plan B’s skills as a lyricist are once again brought to the forefront, and that’s where he really shines, and the song builds to a frenzy in which he declares, “If you don’t believe in something, you’ll fool for anything!” At this moment, the album gets back on track, with the exception of “Live Once,” which again tries and fails with the pop appeal. The album ends on a really strong note, though, with “Falling Down” slowly building and drawing on an UNKLE/Radiohead vibe that suites Plan B so well, I wish there was much more of this than the R&B/pop stuff that doesn’t really work.

When he’s working with his strengths, and building on either some punk energy, hardcore hip hop, and weird electronic pop, it’s easy to see how talented Plan B is and why people outside of the UK should be paying attention to him. When he’s trying his hardest to sound pop and to appeal to a larger audience, it becomes clear that the style doesn’t suit him, and everything just sounds awkward and out of place. I’m sure at some point I’ll get to see the film and understand how it all comes together, but in the mean time I’ll be enjoying the high points of the album and hoping that his next endeavor will play more to his strengths as an artist.