When you’re a girl from Merseyside living in Indiana, one thing you’re going to do is get the 6AM Greyhound bus to Chicago to see EsDeeKid.
Since moving here ten months ago, the Scouse rapper has kept me tethered in some way to my home. With bars about Jürgen Klopp and “Scouse birds” ringing in my ears, I have roamed the aisles of Spirit Halloween as if it were the Louvre, and watched frat brothers throw up on street corners. If I squint my eyes and blur my vision, a Walmart can become a big Asda, the diner a Wetherspoons. I’ve watched the pink sunrise over cornfields and listened to “4 Raws” while contemplating whether Liverpool had a spell cast on it thousands of years ago, bestowing it with the special power to produce Scouse messiahs every millennium. The Beatles, now EsDeeKid. If you have ever been to Liverpool, you will understand that the average child on a BMX has more wit and confidence than any fully grown comedian with a Netflix special. It was only a matter of time before a Scouser took over the world, or at least the world according to Carti fans—compelling Italian teenagers, Timothée Chalamet, and people in the dusty corners of America to rap about evading the “plod.”
I step into the Uptown neighborhood of Chicago at 4PM, and see hordes of Gen Z kids in face paint and jester hats. A cold sweat hits me: ‘Have I drastically overlooked an essential part of EsDeeKid’s image? Have I been unwittingly associating myself with clowncore this whole time? Is this what getting old is like?’ Then, relieved, I realize I’m at the wrong venue. All these people are waiting to see The Garden. The next road over is where I’m meant to be, at the Aragon Ballroom, with emo girls wearing Union Jack beanies and boys with hair completely covering their faces queued up waiting outside.
Tonight, TikTok youth culture has claimed this neighborhood, snatching it away from the resident young professionals who watch from the booths of small-plate restaurants, a different micro core at every crosswalk running in front of Ubers and screeching with glee.
I deleted TikTok off my phone before crossing TSA a year ago. I never redownloaded it, so the only short-form video content I’ve consumed since being in the U.S. is Instagram Reels: Gypsy Rose Blanchard fancams, Russian farmers, the man who says “separate checks please,” things like that.
Because of this, it’s difficult to know what the American EsDeeKid fan club will look like. His debut mixtape Rebel has hundreds of millions of streams on Spotify, but would it translate to the teens of this godless country? And if it did, would they really love him for his Scouse swag, or just because he went white boy crazy with Timothée?
I tapped into the spirits of my Liverpudlian ancestors and approached the youth to find out.
Ellie, 23
VICE: What are your thoughts on the United Kingdom?
Ellie: I love Princess Diana, and I miss her every day, but right now I think EsDee is the UK princess.
What does EsdeeKid mean to you?
Being from a place where a lot of rappers grow up and rap about their hardships, it’s really cool seeing it come from a different culture and get so big here.
What do you think a council house is?
That’s where the kings go, where the leaders of your group all hang out, and you have a lot of money, and you smoke a lot of dope. Only good vibes there. And EsDeeKid is always there because he runs it.
Lucas, 18
What do you think about the UK?
Lucas: I’m so sorry about the Queen, bro.
What does EsDeeKid mean to you?
He’s the only rapper from Britland, which is cool. No one else in the history of rap ever came from Britland.
What’s a council house?
A bunch of rats, a bunch of wizards, a bunch of medieval shit.
The vast majority of fans I speak to do not know what a council house is, despite the tour being named Council House Rat Tour. Instead, EsDee’s recent mythical imagery, pairing Arc’teryx with chainmail, has given many the impression that the council estate is some kind of sacred place—a central meeting point for a community of freaks, lords, and the mischievous. A type of UK Skyrim tavern where you make beats.
This aesthetic framing of the council estate is something I wish I had tapped into when I was younger; how much better life could’ve been for those born in 1998 if we’d had our own EsDeeKid to unite the subcultures. I thought about my past emo self, the emos I knew, and the emos that came before me, who all hung outside Liverpool Courts, wore “Free Hugs” T-shirts, and had ears stained blue from Directions hair dye bought at Quiggins (RIP). I got a meatball Subway sandwich thrown in my face once for being a mosher, dip-dying the ends of my scraggly bleach job marinara orange. I know a Scouse figure like EsDee would’ve helped me come to terms with that more than a CAMHS counselor ever could.
Liz, 22
What’s your favorite EsdeeKid Lyric?
Liz: “Outfit change on the day / I’m a genius.”
What does EsdeeKid mean to you?
He’s the essence of cool but calm. Elusive.
Have you learnt any Scouse words from listening to EsDeeKid?
“Bird.” I love calling the ladies birds.
Maya, 17
What’s your favorite EsdeeKid Lyric?
Maya: “I’m the male version of ecstasy.” I think that’s really cute.
What does EsdeeKid mean to you?
He’s someone to look up to.
I stand between two speakers at the front of the stage and feel like I am in a lucid dream, hundreds of Chicagoans screaming “I’m a scumbag / I was raised in Liverpool slums, lad” behind me. EsDee shouting “‘ow’s it goin’ she-car-goooo” on top of a council house stage set, lifting his head in an MF DOOM-esque mask.
Just like it doesn’t matter that most of the people here do not know what a council house is, it doesn’t matter that I haven’t brought earbuds, and only have a £20 digicam which, earlier that day, a man had told me was “redundant media.”
The vibe EsDee conjures would work even in a Lutheran church service with the big light on.
He makes his way down the house and onto the stage, where he is joined by collaborator Rico Ace. At this point I retreat to the upper floor and watch an entourage of people in high-vis vests storm the pit with flashlights. But EsDee doesn’t stop to see if anyone needs medical help or water, because on closer inspection, they aren’t real security; they are teenage boys doing pit management, spinning their friends around like carnies at the Blackpool teacups, heightening the chaos everyone wants tonight. A real security guard standing next to me slowly shakes his head, hitting send on a text that reads simply “fuck this.”
Shahir, 18, Omar, 20, Ryan, 19
What’s your favorite EsDeeKid lyric?
“Got girls flocking all over ‘cause I’m young, lit, and I’m handsome.” I just relate to that.
What does “divvy” mean?
A weapon.
What’s a council house?
I don’t know.
Sierra, 27
What’s your favorite EsdeeKid Lyric?
Sierra: “Too much snow, kid coming like Canada / Got kush smoke all in me lungs, I’m running from plod, but I’m lacking the stamina / I’m whipping it smart, the NOS in me head got me gone, I can’t fuck with the canister.”
What does EsdeeKid mean to you?
He’s a super hot, young, talented Scouse prodigy.
You wake up and you are blindfolded and put into a car, and you find out your parents have sold you to Fakemink. Are you happy or sad?
That would be awesome. I would rap with him in the car to wherever we’re going.
Do you have a favorite Scouse word?
Wool.
I smoke my first cigarette in four hours outside a bar selling $17 pumpkin spice espresso martinis and start crying. A large group of Americans has just walked past me doing Scouse accents, and the mixture of Modelo and amazement has turned my blood into a sentimental potion. It’s not that lyrics like “got your bird in a crop top / smoking top crop” make me emotional necessarily, but a figure like EsDeeKid is evidence you can do anything. You can go to Paris Fashion Week and then back home to a terraced house in Liverpool, and people think that’s cool as fuck, even Americans in Balenciaga.
Our evening of EsDeeKid fandom data collection was confirmation that his work has the stamina to make it across the Atlantic, an important litmus test to see if a Brit will become a global superstar or be locked up in the Love of Huns Khia Asylum. Maybe in a few years, instead of Americans asking you to say “bottle of water” or “it’s Tuesday innit,” they’ll be asking you to say “chicken and a can of Coke,” and instead of asking if you know Paul McCartney, they’ll ask if you know EsDeeKid. Maybe the Timothée Chalamet conspiracy theorists were onto something, and we really are in the presence of a Scouse Paul Atreides.
Follow Charlotte on Instagram @lottelandrum
The post These Americans Love EsDeeKid. But Do They Really ‘Get’ Him? appeared first on VICE.
