The opening neo-soul organ riff and jazzy chords of Melt Session #1 signals a shift in energy, all eyes and cameras directed towards Denzel as he strides confidently towards the mic stand and begins unpacking his knotty inner life in complex bars. ‘Eyes remain in freeze mode, I'm stuck in fight-or-flight / I'm deflecting my daily problems within my daily life,’ he spits, diarising his struggles with depression, celebrity and a world on fire, but it all leads into rallying the crowd through a triumphant cry: ‘I keep walkin’, I keep walkin’.’
Compared to the unbridled rawness people might have come to expect, Walkin’ and Mental are delivered from the perspective of someone who has worked hard to quell his demons, rather than being caught in the middle of twelve rounds with them as we’ve seen him before. Denzel is far from subdued, but as he glides through older, menacing cuts like 13LACK 13ALLOONS you start to wonder if his appetite for letting loose onstage has been sacrificed for his newfound equilibrium.
That is, until the stage goes dark. Samples of brass swell with intrigue. Then Denzel comes blasting back in with three times the amount of energy as he tears into a slew of hard-hitting fan favourites. His raspy barks on Threatz are raw enough to scrape off tattoos, while RICKY’s chorus finds pockets of new energy in the crowd. The stage is swarmed by Denzel’s entourage for SUMO, but the focus is firmly on him as he drives the tongue-twisting finale home, punctuating each expertly landed bar with a lunging punch like he’s a character in Street Fighter.