God Save Burlin Jävla EP – A Swedish Hip-Hop Gem That’ll Mess With Your Head (In a Good Way)
Let’s get one thing straight: God Save Burlin Jävla EP isn’t your run-of-the-mill hip-hop album. Released in 2010 by the trio of Burlin Deamus, Stefan Källström Scum, and Isak Skagerström under Chans and Hookz Productions, this Swedish project hits hard with its conscious style. It’s like they took all the things society doesn’t want to talk about, threw them into a blender, and served it up with beats that slap harder than your grandma’s famous meatballs.
Now, let’s dive into two tracks from this mind-bending EP because ain’t nobody got time to review every single song. First up is "Ur Askan." This track feels like waking up in the middle of a fever dream where everything makes sense for half a second before spiraling off again. The lyrics are sharp, almost surgical, dissecting themes of struggle and survival without being preachy. You know those moments when life punches you in the gut but somehow leaves you laughing? Yeah, that’s “Ur Askan” in audio form. Plus, the beat? Chef’s kiss. It’s grimy yet hypnotic—like walking through Stockholm on a rainy night while questioning all your life choices.
Then there’s "Jävla Burlin," which might as well be the anthem for anyone who’s ever felt misunderstood or just plain pissed off at the world. The energy here is chaotic in the best possible way. Burlin spits bars so raw, you can practically smell the frustration wafting out of your speakers. What sticks with me most is how unapologetically real it feels. No sugarcoating, no shiny distractions—just pure, unfiltered emotion wrapped around a beat that refuses to quit. By the end, I was convinced my headphones had grown a soul.
The rest of the EP follows suit, delivering tracks like "Världens Gång" and "Korsfest" that keep the momentum going. Each song tackles heavy topics—inequality, mental health, existential dread—but does so with an authenticity that makes you lean in closer instead of tuning out. And props to the production; it’s gritty enough to match the lyrical intensity but polished enough to avoid sounding amateurish.
So why should you care about God Save Burlin Jävla EP? Because it’s not just music—it’s therapy disguised as hip-hop. Listening to it feels like having a heart-to-heart with someone who gets it, even if they’re kinda shouting at you. Sure, some parts are rough around the edges, but isn’t that what makes it human?
And hey, here’s a random thought to leave you with: If this album were a person, it’d probably be that friend who shows up late to parties but steals the entire conversation once they arrive. Cheers to that.
