Croft Sessions

Dizraeli and Tom Caruana - White Man (Moves) Review

Lately I’ve been finding out about more and more music with a similar sort of style. I never really know how to describe it to people, but to me it isn’t rap or hip-hop: it’s a sort of poetry that’s spoken over carefully crafted beats. Sure, that sounds exactly like both rap and hip-hop, and I’m sure from an outsiders ear this might seem the case, but when you actually sit down and spend the time to listen to sounds like these, it often turns out to be something quite different. These are tracks that have clearly been looked after during recording, with every thought and effort gone into each second to create a new experience for the listener. Put simply, it’s refreshing. 

Dizraeli is a by far one of the best examples of this, and his latest album really proves my point. It transports you into a different place and takes you on a journey. Dizraeli himself describes it as a musical scrapbook, and this is exactly how it feels throughout the whole 25 minutes.

It’s hard to review this album without ruining anything, so I’m going to try and keep it short. It’s really something you have to experience yourself, so please go ahead and press play at the top of this post.

White Man (Moves) is a collaboration between Dizraeli and Tom Caruana. At its heart, the album is a series of rhymes and field recordings captured during a 4 month trip spent travelling from India to England by land. It attempts to capture what it is to be a white Western man abroad, whilst telling us the real stories of those we would never have heard from otherwise. From the first track, ”Azim”, you can tell that this is going to be something special. After a literal jump from a familiar British-sounding announcement, you’re thrust into the bustling streets of India. I usually hate the word ‘bustling’, but that is exactly what this is. Street vendors shout in both ears, rickshaws blast their horns aggressively, and a girls voice slowly fades into the spotlight. You genuinely feel like you’re out in a different land, and I’m sure this is exactly what Dizraeli wants to re-create. The album continues with this approach, adding in some sweet beats and bass loops from Caruana to really drive the music.

As we arrive in Iran, we’re rewarded with a cover of ”Lose Yourself” from a kid in a carpet shop: a light-hearted snapshot that is suddenly snatched away by the contrasting hard-hitting stories of women in the country with the song “Fatima”. A smile is quickly replaced with anger, and this is ultimately what I love about the album most. It plays like a travel documentary, but in some ways I believe it’s better than that. You’re forced to imagine what the people interacted with - and the environments in which they live - look like. There are all these little stories within stories like a good narratives have - I particularly enjoyed the recurring ‘missing wallet’ anecdotes - but getting the biographies of these real people living real lives feels like it’s placed before anything else. That’s something rare in music, but it’s something I wish I could hear more of. Getting it out there through this medium is a definite stroke of genius.

“The Journey Home” conjures up all the feelings you get when you return from a extensive experience abroad. Memories are perfectly placed throughout the track, finishing with a somewhat haunting, empty arrival back in England after the beat has faded out. 

Conclusion

Somehow, White Man (Moves) manages to cram 4 months into the space of 25 minutes. On his site, Dizraeli claims that almost everything was recorded in the space of 3 days - minus the sound recordings from his travels, obviously - but no part of it feels rushed or cheated. If you’re not really into rap or hip-hop, you should definitely still give this a go, because it’s not what you’ll expect.

White Man (Moves) is out now. Click here to buy a digital album or a compact disk. 50% of the profits from this album are going to the Anglo-Iranian Women and Youth Association. Click here to learn more about AIWYA.

- Chris Jackson