But the 19-year-old is a product of Britain's super-vibrant grime scene and is thus genetically unable to self-promote in the style of America's cartoon gangsters: for every moment of braggadocio there are five of self-doubt. On the snaking 'Sometimes' he says, 'When I see the fans go mad/ I think why do they like me?/ There's about a thousand other boys like me/ Spitting lyrics on the mic, dressed in Nike'.

He might be right (in fact, he is) but Kano has marked out his own slate of street-up pop with verve and style. Operating somewhere between the Streets and Dizzee Rascal, the talented footballer (he had trials for Chelsea and Norwich but hung up his boots for the mic) has followed his slot on the Mitchell Brothers' 'Routine Check' with an album of sparky garage that covers hype tunes like the full-throttle party number 'Reload It', produced by razor-drummed Southern hip hop DJ Diplo; heavy rock riffs on his self-produced single 'Typical Me'; and Cuban styles on 'Remember Me'. 'I can spit rock, grime, hip hop and more,' he says, as if to prove it, on the staccato Sabbath-goes-to-Bow 'I Don't Know Why', which has Bloc Party producer Paul Epworth on the mixing desk.

Crucially, Kano's debut is underpinned by beats that tread a confident line between hip hop, ghetto experimentalism and allout grime, as on the tune which catapaulted him from his Nasty Crew roots, 'Boys Love Girls'. All of which helps to forgive the illadvised Kanye West pastiche on 'Brown Eyes' and the occasional nudges into weak hip hop.

Listened to alongside the Roll Deep album and the tunes still rising like so much hot smoke from London's pirate-tuning streets, Home Sweet Home is more proof that grime is the biggest motor of British pop music this decade.