Album Review: Don’t Look Down by Kojey Radical
It’s evident that Kojey Radical has delivered a project of depth and vision. Don’t Look Down feels like the work of an artist in control of his craft—not a reinvention, but a natural evolution.
Three years after Reason to Smile earned Kojey Radical a Mercury Prize nod and critical acclaim, the East London artist returns with the long-awaited follow-up, Don’t Look Down. He opens the album not with a bang but with a reflective, spoken-word prologue. “You’re supposed to be the life of the party,” Kojey chides himself, before wondering aloud, “How many homies didn’t make it?... How many times did I count the empty seats, instead of the ones that showed their faces?” This somber introduction immediately sets a tone of absence, survival, and self-examination that resonates throughout the project. It’s clear from the outset that Don’t Look Down is a more personal and introspective journey, picking up the conversation where his debut left off and pushing it into deeper, more vulnerable territory.
Kojey Radical’s potent wordplay continues to grapple with big questions of Blackness, fatherhood, faith, and vulnerability—themes that defined his debut and are now revisited with even sharper introspection. His signature delivery is a rich, deep rasp that exudes confidence and gravitas, yet here it frequently gives way to moments of confessional tenderness. On the weary-sounding “Drinking My Water,” he admits to feeling drained as he fights to stay on the righteous path, conceding “I’m at war with my discipline… I’ve been seeking deliverance.” The track’s candid self-critique of faltering discipline and seeking faith exemplifies the album’s honest tone. Later, “Curtains” finds Kojey at his most vulnerable, peeling back emotional layers as he confronts generational trauma and the legacy of his father: “I hate that I hold on to trauma… twinning with the traits that I got from my father.” These intimate revelations, delivered in his gravelly voice, create a compelling contrast—the tough exterior of his vocals versus the raw introspection of his lyrics—and show Kojey’s willingness to examine himself without reservation.
Don’t Look Down is as eclectic as its subject matter. Kojey has always been a musical shapeshifter—his debut was a melting pot of hip-hop, funk, and soul—and here he expands his palette even further. The album flows through hip-hop, funk, soul, and skewed R&B grooves, and even works in unexpected flourishes like a forlorn burst of Mariachi-style trumpets. Each stylistic shift is purposeful, serving to underscore the narrative of the songs. He’s assembled a versatile cast of collaborators to enrich these soundscapes. Conversation” literally plays out like a late-night heart-to-heart: drummer The Pocket Queen propels the track with skittering grooves as Kojey unleashes peppery, rapid-fire bars, while pop/R&B savant MNEK elevates the chorus with layered gospel harmonies—all of this unfolding over the snarl of a rock guitar riff. The result is a head-nodding jam that feels both soulful and gritty. On “Expensive,” Montreal trio Planet Giza bring an off-kilter energy to a woozy R&B beat, their production adding playful bounce as Kojey flexes his flows. In contrast, “Long Day” is soaked in a moody atmosphere—Texas crooner Dende delivers a brooding hook that drips with weariness, matching Kojey’s verses about trying to escape life’s stresses, if only for a night. Each collaboration slots in seamlessly, enhancing the album’s genre-blending ethos without stealing the spotlight from Kojey’s story.
Several standout moments highlight the album’s ambitious production and Kojey’s narrative flair. A late-track sequence sees a brief party skit at the end of “Long Day” melt into the song “On Call.” In this scene, Kojey approaches an intriguing stranger with the flirtatious line, “How you here with no amigos?”—right then, a lonely mariachi trumpet flutters in the background, almost like a witty musical retort. It’s a small but brilliant touch that blurs genre lines and heightens the song’s late-night, cinematic vibe. Kojey isn’t content with just one-star drummer on the track, either—he enlists jazz drumming prodigies Moses Boyd and Femi Koleoso (of Ezra Collective) to lay down restless fills and grooves that amplify “On Call”’s paranoid undertone. The livewire percussion and those ghostly horns give the track a tense, unpredictable energy, mirroring the anxiety and excitement of the encounter Kojey describes. Elsewhere, “Problems” offers another highlight rooted in subtlety: over a backdrop of gentle, tumbling piano keys, rising Brixton MC Cristale steps up for a flawless guest verse. The piano-centric production frames the track as an intimate confession, allowing Cristale’s sharp lyrics and Kojey’s reflective hook to shine without distraction. It’s a great example of Kojey’s collaborative generosity—he eases back to let another voice carry the story—and it pays off with one of the album’s most memorable cuts.
Throughout Don’t Look Down, Kojey Radical manages to advance the conversation he began on his debut, both musically and thematically. As Reason to Smile was about celebrating personal growth and heritage—touching on identity, family, and faith—this new chapter asks what comes after that initial triumph. The album is unflinchingly honest as Kojey examines the toll of success and the weight of expectation. He questions his capacity for love and wonders whether he deserves his blessings, all while trying to stay true to himself. Yet, despite the soul-searching, the record never feels dour or self-indulgent. There’s a sense of resilience in the way Kojey addresses loss and doubt; every time he poses a question or reveals a scar, it’s balanced by the determination to keep moving forward. In that way, Don’t Look Down is not just a diary of doubts and dreams, but also a statement of survival—a creative mission to keep looking ahead even when shadows loom.
Kojey Radical has delivered a project of considerable depth and vision. The record is a sprawling listen, but its alchemical blend of styles and its emotional candor hold it together as a cohesive whole. There may not be an obvious radio “hit” tailor-made for the charts—Kojey favors narrative cohesion over splashy singles—yet each song earns its place, building on the last to complete the larger picture. The confidence in genre-blending and the fearlessness in lyrical self-exposure here suggest an artist operating with complete creative freedom, perhaps at the strongest point of his career so far. In a UK music scene often divided into neat categories, Kojey continues to carve out his own lane, merging spoken-word poetry, hip-hop, funk, soul, and more into something singular. Don’t Look Down feels like the work of an artist in control of his craft—not a reinvention, but a natural evolution from his debut that solidifies Kojey Radical’s status as one of Britain’s most innovative voices in rap and beyond.
Great (★★★★☆)
Favorite Track(s): “On Call,” “Conversation,” “Curtains”