You Know the Drill 东京后街的“尖冰”

Japan is usually seen as a safe, clean, and wealthy country. Although that’s relatively true, it’s not a complete picture. Just ask ralph, a rapper from the outskirts of Tokyo, who knows exactly what it’s like to grow up in the shadows of the city’s neon-lit streets. The stories his music depict are dark and cold, told with an aggressive, monotone delivery. 

With a deep, gravelly voice, his sound is similar to London’s Headie One or the late Brooklyn rapper Pop Smoke. But ralph’s flow is more hurried and dense, complementing the skittering high hats dotting the album. His lyrics, which are mostly Japanese but peppered with English, punch through the crisp soundscapes. Rapid-fire bars are punctuated by alternating octaves and deliberate, unrushed sections.

Listen to select tracks below:

His recent album, 24oz, is often tense and curt, replete with rough basslines and icy synths. Take “Roll Up,” one of the bleakest tracks on the album. It’s stitched together by orchestral swells, haunting choir samples, and an outright paranoid hook, with ralph spitting in Japanese: “Wake up / It’s clear that something is different / A warning that never stops ringing / Unexpected payback / Hands up.”

It’s not a suffocating album by any means though: perky keys, pitched vocal samples, and aspirational synths keep listeners above water when air is needed. “D.N.R.” offers a surprisingly danceable moment amidst all the claustrophobia, while “Window Shopping” is a bouncy cut about streetwear propelled by big, rubbery bass drums and a stuttering flow.

At 12 years old, ralph fell in love with rap. He first looked up to Japanese artists, which eventually led him to the American and British rap scenes. He harbored dreams of making his own music for years but didn’t actually try until he was much older. Once he decided to turn his hand at the craft, he wrote lyrics in notebooks for two years before recording anything. His first time in the studio was the 2017 collaboration with Double Clapperz & EGL on “Sha Ni Kamaeru,” and he performed the song for his first-ever live appearance. His verse on the track was a creative breakthrough, one that provided the momentum he needed.

Raised by his Japanese mother and grandfather in the suburbs north of Tokyo, ralph doesn’t know much about his father other than he was Indonesian. He grew up in the danchi, which are Japan’s social housing projects, largely home to elderly and immigrant populations. The danchis are often the only place for immigrants and minorities to live since they face significant housing discrimination. According to one real estate agency, almost nine out of ten private apartments in Tokyo refuse “foreign” renters.

Life in some of these housing blocks can be difficult. He says the kids aren’t looked after properly, so they tend to cause trouble. “There was a lot of fighting, vending machine thefts, and burglaries,” ralph explains. “Rudeboy Needs” describes life in the danchis with visceral imagery, describing oppressive architecture, drug addicts, crime, and even suicides.

He faced racism from a young age, being called gaijin regularly and was bullied non-stop. “There were other mixed-roots children in my danchis and I played with them,” he says. “But the relationship between Japanese and non-Japanese was extremely delicate and intense.” By middle school, he frequently got into fights with kids who, mistakenly, thought he’d be an easy target to bully. “They were nasty fights,” he recalls.

This was around the time he started to understand discrimination on a deeper level. “It wasn’t just useless violence; it was a denial of identity,” ralph says. “Knowing deep down there’s a difference between foreigners, half-Japanese, and Japanese.”

The authorities discriminate too: “Police stop and search me so frequently,” he says. “I’m sure it’s because I look like a foreigner, even though they don’t say that’s the reason. If you’re at work or in a hurry and try to refuse their request, they block your way and force you to respond.”

These experiences deeply influence his music. “I’ve always felt so isolated, like I have no home,” he says. “I feel like it’s easier to just be alone.”

In “Villains,” he touches on being vilified because of his heritage. “Friends’ parents listen / Don’t play with that girl anymore / In front of the sea due to the difference in blood that cannot be buried.” At the end of the track, he reveals how much it hurts, rapping: “It’s important for her to be struck by the wind of Hama / Pain is like a ship running in the sea with poor visibility / It always appears and disappears / It’s like a night fog.”

Thriving on Black British musical inspirations, ralph is one of the few rappers in Japan exploring the sounds of UK drill, borrowing its flow and slang. “D.N.R.” was an ode to 90s UK garage as well, something that’s increasingly common in the Japanese scene. But he’s most fond of grime, a highly digitized style of rap from London from the early 2000s. On “Selfish,” which draws on the genre’s charged vocal delivery and hyperactive hi-hats, he calls the local haters out, saying they’ll learn to like it: “Not possible in Japan? Well, sure / You can’t do it with all your excuses / I can do it, I can make it / Get ready for the flip-flop (Selfish).”

Although he’s speaking about grime, it’s a line that could clearly apply to the long list of people who’ve doubted him—ralph has finally made it and there’s nothing the haters can do about it.

To ralph, success isn’t about being rich and famous; he’s actually ambivalent about these achievements. He appreciates the money he’s making and loves to see his fans pressing up to the stage during performances, but these are not ends in themselves. As he raps in “Selfish:” “Stack yen, I can’t get enough / I’ll write mandala in my head until I die.” He’s laying out what he feels in an imaginary mandala, a symbol representing a dreamer’s search for fulfillment. For him, being rich won’t bring peace. He doesn’t want to flex the wealth he’s earned and still wants to remain in the shadows—to the extent that’s still possible. “Money makes me comfortable, but I’d rather let the facts speak without exaggeration,” ralph says. He’d rather seek out peace and ignore what others think.