Fakemink – ‘Terrified .’ review: finding flashes of brilliance beneath the bravado

Fakemink – ‘Terrified .’ review: finding flashes of brilliance beneath the bravado

From hopping on stage with Drake during his Wireless takeover to earning co-signs from A$AP Rocky and Frank Ocean, Essex newcomer Fakemink has quickly positioned himself as UK rap’s newest alt-star. But his debut album ‘Terrified .’ isn’t interested in presenting fame as clean or aspirational, instead he transforms his rapid rise into a grungy dystopia of sex, drugs, ego and sensory overload – the soundtrack to a kid thrust into the fast lane.

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The album opens in genuinely suffocating fashion. Its largely instrumental title track churns with rumbling bass, distorted guitars and throat-tightening paranoia, setting the tone for a record obsessed with overindulgence and emotional freefall. For fans of that overprocessed rage-rap sugar rush, songs like ‘Hard Candy’ and ‘Night, Blooming Jasmine .’ scratch that itch. Blending hyperactive synths with his squeakier cadence, they’re enthralling floorfillers that you can’t help but dance to.

Throughout ‘Terrified .’, sandwiched between vapid flexes and hedonistic doom spirals, are flashes of genuine existential panic. From the first song, ‘All Eyes On Me’, he paints the scene he’s been dropped into: “An underground ballroom, full of harlots and dog-ass witches eating dog food.” Vividly poetic, Fakemink’s lyrics can be deeper than he’s often given credit for. The abrasively titled ‘Rétard Angel .’ is among the album’s most vulnerable and evocative songs, making its reliance on a regressive slur feel particularly frustrating. And on ‘Essex Girls’, he becomes a theologian of sorts, making a connection to catholic martyr St. Killian while flexing his love for expensive Killian fragrances. There’s a compelling writer underneath the bravado.

Threaded across ‘Terrified .’ are unsettling monologues from actress Victoria Davidoff, adding a stormy, cinematic feel to the album, even if they can sometimes kill the momentum. But the sprawling, seven-minute ‘Fire & Ice .’ earns its place by ushering in the album’s final and most compelling stretch. Here, Fakemink dips into the sullen horrorcore darkness of Memphis rap and the sun-bleached moodiness of California noir simultaneously.

‘Kiss Of Death’, glamorous and self-destructive in equal measure, pairs ghostly melodies with jagged electric guitar riffs, pushing the album’s noir undercurrent further into the red. Whereas ‘Tell Me What You’re Missing .’ is a surprisingly sincere counterpart, its soaring harmonised hook reframing Fakemink’s relentless self-belief as something almost aspirational. For once, he sounds less interested in documenting his ascent than showing others how to survive it.

Beneath the blown-out bass and Hollywood excess, Fakemink is a writer whose most compelling ideas often arrive when the bravado briefly slips. On ‘Terrified .’ he shows himself as an artist capable of finding genuine insight in places when most would solely rely on provocation in their bars. In how he carries himself, the only thing Fakemink seems truly terrified of is shame – and this debut is him facing it head on.

Details

Record label: EtnaVeraVela
Release date: May 22, 2026

The post Fakemink – ‘Terrified .’ review: finding flashes of brilliance beneath the bravado appeared first on NME.

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