Listening to A Grand Don’t Come For Free felt like being trapped in a lift with a man who’s just discovered he can rhyme “television” with “decision” and isn’t planning to stop. It’s not even that it’s bad in an entertaining way it’s just utterly charmless, painfully self-satisfied, and delivered with the emotional range of someone angrily narrating their trip to the post office. The beats are limp, the storytelling is mundane, and the smug, monotonous delivery grated on me like sandpaper on sunburn. I get that it was trying to be a clever, down to earth, kitchen sink drama for the PlayStation generation, but it honestly made me long for the sweet release of static. If this is meant to be a modern working class epic, I’ll take silence and a blank wall any day.