Still think grime’s grand breakthrough will ultimately lead to softened commercialisation? Consider this debut from Brixton Hill generals 67 your brooding, unapologetically hard-edged corrective. Taking cues from trap, British road rap and Chicago drill, this six-strong crew rattle through rugged stash house bars (“Guwop”) and bouncing, darkly comic hymns to their new lobster-devouring lives (“Saucy”). They’re capable of a curveball (“Money Spree” brings a celebratory two-step vibe) but this is an exhilarating, uncut blast of street swagger.