It also explains why this new chapter feels so different. The Iceberg Slimm who once rocked purple hair, oversized clothes and New Era caps is now more likely to appear in a fedora, blazer and spiritual stones. Even that visual evolution has purpose. When he walks into schools, he wants young men to see another possibility for what success can look like.
Musically, the same principle applies. Rather than chasing shock value, he increasingly wants his records to leave something behind.
One forthcoming song, “Yesterday”, looks at the breakdown of a relationship and the emotional aftermath for men. The inspiration came while Iceberg was researching material for his intervention work and reading about depression and suicide following relationship breakdowns. It pushed him towards a subject that he feels men are still frequently discouraged from discussing openly.
“Now it’s about me trying to be more of a storyteller and painting a picture that someone will hear and say, ‘You know what? It sounds like he’s talking to me.’”
Nas is one of the reference points he returns to when describing what he wants from music. As a youngster, Iceberg remembers hearing words in Nas records that would send him searching for a dictionary. Music could entertain while simultaneously encouraging curiosity, reflection and growth.
“How can I impact people in a positive light?” is now one of the first questions he asks himself when approaching a record.
That doesn’t mean Iceberg has lost affection for the era that created him. Get him talking about old school UK club culture and the memories arrive quickly: Bagley’s, The Coliseum, Hanover Grand, Gas Club, DJs carrying boxes of records and crowds that actually came to dance.
What he misses most, however, is the physical connection surrounding music. Buying records, studying artwork, reading production credits and discovering where samples originated all encouraged listeners to dig deeper. Breaking through as an artist required a similarly physical commitment: standing outside radio stations with records, travelling around the country meeting DJs and building relationships face to face.
“You had to do it by word of mouth,” he says. “You built your process from the ground up.”
For all the opportunities created by streaming and social media, Iceberg feels something has been lost in that transition.
“Music is meant to be a community thing. It’s meant to bring people together.”
His own listening habits still reflect that curiosity. He talks enthusiastically about Children of Zeus and their organic rise, praises Miller Blue as an artist able to sing, rap and produce, and points towards Tems as a vocalist with an immediately distinctive identity. J Dilla remains a particularly important reference, while Caribbean sounds including zouk, soca and calypso have recently found their way back into heavy rotation following a trip to Montserrat, where his father’s family originates.
There is a sense throughout our conversation that Iceberg Slimm is now looking both backwards and forwards at once. He has enormous affection for the music and culture that raised him, but no interest in simply recreating it. Instead, the experiences accumulated during his absence have given him something new to say.
His priorities away from the microphone have shifted too. Family, football (Arsenal), good food and meaningful time with the people around him matter more than ever.
“Moments are key in life,” he says. “Too many times we take things for granted.”
Perhaps that is ultimately what makes “CEO” such an important return. It isn’t merely an old record finally escaping the archive. It reconnects Iceberg Slimm with the person he was before losing his father while introducing the person he became afterwards.
The hunger is still there, as is the love for hip hop, but the motivation has changed. There is no desperate attempt to reclaim an old position or compete with a younger generation. After years spent putting family and young people first, Iceberg Slimm has returned because creating music once again feels right.
As he puts it simply: “It’s a full circle.”