It shouldn’t be a big deal for male artists to write lyrics about sharing their feelings or reaching out in times of struggle or the beauty of life’s simpler things. And yet it feels like one. It’s quite remarkable to listen to Karavaan by Dutch rapper Diggy Dex and find all those things compressed on one record.
A picked acoustic guitar, a steady indie beat, maybe the brightness of some synth keys, bell-like in their ring. That seems to be the basic recipe for most of the beats on this record. But there are different takes on this staple, subtle deviations from a classic. Paired with words that sing of love, loss, and insecurity, Karavaan takes you on a journey, following a man that begins to reflect on himself, his life, and his relationships with those he couldn’t bare to lose.
Let’s take La Vie Est Belle, the opening song with its accordion and acoustic guitar, a nice bright electric guitar and an infectious hook. That sounds simple, but this beat supports a scrapbook of all the small moments, a collage of what it means to be alive, to live and breathe, the feelings that sometimes flood over you in the blink of an eye. Or the beauty that lies in the uncertain, defying the urge to settle and stall as it is sung on De Zon Op. A song that seems to say ‘Don’t worry mate, we’re a team, relax!’
But Diggy Dex can turn that tender affirmation into urgency without batting an eye: Karavaan, the titular track brings with it a fantastically infectious, Maclemore-esque stomp track, fabulously percussive and driving. Paired with an Eastern European brass section, bright keyboard sounds and a playfulness in the production makes it the real deal. This momentum carries throughout the album until it finds a new climax in Kan Het Zijn with its gorgeous fuzzy, compressed beat sample. That bass drum is simply amazing, I want more of this old school dirtiness, the heightened rhythm of the lyrics, alluding to classic Gangsta’s-Paradise-chord-progressions.
Karavaan is an album with character, an album that shows the different sides of an artist, his flaws and insecurities as much as his greatest achievements and triumphs. Weg Van Jou is masterful in its honesty, a confession of personal doubts, the question of whether one could be enough, whether what one can give will suffice. What it means to be a father, the fear of not being able to provide and the only hope to be there when it matters. A simple acoustic guitar, a voice so incredibly close, a set of lyrics that stabs right at the heart. Heavy and light at the same time. Doubting. Vulnerable. Hopeful. An openness that can also be heard on Deze Dans, dripping percussion, rhythmic guitar strumming and hazy synth notes don’t take away from the tenderness hidden in the lyrics. What does it mean to give yourself away? Can we be alone in the world? How to tell someone what you feel without actually saying it?
Tell the stories you want to tell. Sing of personal struggle and emotion. Write about the struggles of human connection and the doubts you have. Diggy Dex isn’t hiding anything. This album is raw, open, and beautifully personal. It is apologetic, confused, uncertain, doubtful, loving, amazed, celebratory, hurt, driving, urgent, and – deeply human.
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