These Years Are Golden - Kofi Stone (2024)
Live-your-life raps cushioned by sweet vocals from a wise, soulful lyricist who doesn't miss
Two weeks ago I went on holiday to Oman. For the first five days, before heading into the desert, my wife and I rented a room at a guesthouse in a fishing village just next to the capital of Muscat called Qantab. It had its own quiet beach and was surrounded by rocky hills that you can climb to take in the sunset.
Frankincense burned; the call-to-prayer pierced the cyclical sound of waves lapping softly on the shore. It was so safe that our host, a yoga teacher, left the doors unlocked at all times. On the second night we caught a small boat out to sea to see the plankton glimmering in fluorescent green beneath the surface.
We would take swims in the sea, read and write on our veranda or drive up the hill towards other parts of the city to shop for supplies — coffee, freshly squeezed juice, crates of bottled water to fight the heatwave — and find local food to eat.
I tried king fish masalas, chicken birianis, one of the best burgers of my life (for £2), and shuwa, the Omani national dish of spiced lamb and rice, slow-cooked underground, wrapped in banana leaf. I snacked on nuts, dates and Omani crisps (which are randomly a thing).
Whilst cruising around in our rented 4x4 — a slick upgrade from my banged up old Peugeot back in London — we made our way through a wide range of music.
Being away from home with a Middle Eastern sun shining on my face inspired me to seek out songs that could mirror the warm, rustic vastness of the setting whizzing by outside my window.
For whatever reason, during this endeavour, the artist I kept returning to was Birmingham rapper Kofi Stone.
I’ve been a fan of Stone since I heard him on The Silhouettes Project’s debut album (2020), rapping on a song for which he begins by advising the listener: “If it makes you feel alive, then do it more”.
Then I took in his own debut album, Nobody Cares Till Everybody Does (2019), which has zero filler and can be played front to back, although my favourite song is Lost To The Streets featuring Maverick Sabre — a deep, bassy, crackly, boom-bap POV tale.
He has quietly become one of my favourite UK rappers, someone who can spit soulful wisdom, love letters and social justice analytics all with ease, without it sounding forced or inconsistent. This range is impressive. And I respect his gospel-inspired messaging — I welcome any religiosity or faith in music if it’s offered in accessible language with catchy melodies behind it.
Last year Stone dropped A Man After God’s Own Heart. When it came out, I listened to it several times all the way through, enjoying every minute, but I lazily never stopped to look at the track names.
In Muscat, with my hand on the wheel, one particular song from the project came on and I had to stick it on repeat — not once, but hundreds of times across the rest of the holiday. I’m still listening to it on a daily now.
These Years Are Golden recalls conversations with an older woman (first verse) and older man (second verse) who advise Stone to focus on his wellbeing, appreciate the present moment and enjoy his life to the fullest.
It’s a simple but profound message that I needed to hear. The combination of crisp lyricism, the beat’s jazzy keys and funky bass, and the sweetly sung chorus have made it impossible to exclude from the All City playlist.
Now, every time I listen, I think back to those carefree days of escapism in Oman…