Coming Up For Air by Che Lingo
Ah, Coming Up For Air, an album that promises to lift you up but leaves you gasping for something else entirely—perhaps a refund, perhaps just some clarity on why you pressed play in the first place. South London rapper Che Lingo certainly set out to craft something introspective and personal, but instead of a deep dive into his struggles, it often feels like we’re drowning in confusion.
This is Che Lingo’s second studio album, following the critically acclaimed The Worst Generation (2020). With Coming Up For Air, Lingo attempts to navigate mental health, grief, and his personal battles—important themes, no doubt. But while the intention is noble, the execution feels like wandering through a self-help pamphlet written by someone who isn’t sure if they want to inspire or just vent. Lingo brings in influences from grime, hip-hop, and alternative sounds, but the genre-bending only adds to the disjointed feel of the project.
Let’s talk about the music. Or rather, the lack of cohesive music. Lingo swings between styles with all the finesse of a malfunctioning GPS—one minute you’re in grime territory, the next you’re plunged into brooding alternative beats, and suddenly, Roger Taylor from Queen pops in, as confused as the listener. Tracks like “Jaded” and “Fighting Giants” try to blend spoken word rap with atmospheric beats, but what you end up with feels like a half-hearted attempt to sound deep. The production is decent, sure, but it’s so over-polished at times that any raw emotion in the lyrics gets buried under layers of sonic gloss. It’s the musical equivalent of trying to have a heart-to-heart while wearing noise-cancelling headphones.
Here’s where things go from bland to baffling. Che Lingo’s lyrics are meant to explore heavy themes like depression, financial stress, and even eating disorders. But instead of insightful commentary, you’re often left with vague metaphors and clichés. Take “My Radio,” a collaboration with Queen’s Roger Taylor (which, yes, is as random as it sounds). This track is meant to be a tribute to Lingo’s late grandmother, but its emotional weight is lost in overproduction and a bizarrely misplaced Freddie Mercury vocal. For an album about vulnerability, most of these songs feel oddly distant, as if Lingo is holding back the real substance behind a wall of “artistic” vagueness.
Standout tracks? More like stand-back-from-tracks. “Very Couture” featuring Kojey Radical at least tries to be punchy, but the rest of the album feels like it’s constantly holding its breath. Even “Out The Blue,” one of the more upbeat offerings, fails to carry the momentum beyond a few catchy lines. It’s hard to pick out genuine highlights when every song feels like a rough draft of something that could have been better, had it only marinated a little longer.
If Coming Up For Air is supposed to be a journey, it’s a road trip with no map, broken GPS, and random pit stops that lead nowhere. The album stumbles from one style to another without any clear narrative or emotional progression. One minute you’re in the middle of an atmospheric soundscape, the next, you’re assaulted by heavy beats and murky lyrics. By the time you reach the end, you’re more confused than enlightened, wondering how all these disparate pieces were meant to fit together.
Who would enjoy this album? Well, if you’re into fragmented soundscapes, mismatched genres, and lyrics that feel like a collection of Tumblr posts from 2010, you might find something here. Hardcore fans of Che Lingo will appreciate his effort to open up emotionally, but casual listeners or those looking for something with actual flow will probably feel more lost than uplifted.
In the end, Coming Up For Air feels more like Coming Up Short. It’s ambitious, sure, but ambition without execution is just frustrating. Che Lingo tries to deliver a personal, genre-bending album, but ends up with a muddled project that’s hard to follow and harder to love. There’s potential buried in the murky waters here, but instead of floating to the surface, it sinks.
