I am scared of foreign music. Grime, reggaetón, Houston rap… they all make me uncomfortable, mainly because I can’t understand what they’re saying, and because it usually sounds like a twisted version of music I know. So news of the new grime compilation “Run The Road, Vol. 2” had me warily approaching it from a distance. But in this case, it didn’t take long for me to warm up to the music.

Despite the low-to-the-ground implications of the genre’s name, this “grime”— a genre rooted in hip-hop and electronica that developed in London—can absolutely soar with a fun, funky fluidity. Just listen to opener “Get Set” by Low Deep, a messy mixture of cheap synthesizer drones, retarded drum machines, and the best dance party you’ve ever been to.

Another highlight is “Gotta Man?” by Doctor & Davinche, the second track on the compilation. The jittery excitement of nearly every track is especially well suited to this song, which concerns a guy’s worst nightmare: a fast-talking, funny guy with a British accent coming up to your girlfriend and telling her to ditch you. The track is unique, and its novelty hasn’t worn off yet.

Another strength of “Run The Road, Vol. 2” is that despite being a compilation intended to show the best of the grime breed, it works quite well as a cohesive album.

At just under an hour, distributors Vice Recordings emphasize that this is relatively new music (in the United States, at least).

The first five tracks would make a great party in a London nightclub, and then just when you get tired of the rapid-fire rhymes and the offbeat, noisy instrumentals, the compilation comes up with “Sick 2 Def” by Plan B, which morphs grime into an angry, impassioned assault on life’s problems, with the main rapper accompanied only by a rhythmic acoustic guitar. It’s a powerful, welcome showcase.

The second half of the compilation falters a bit, mostly due to the lack of versatility. The problem is that this is supposed to display grime in all its forms, but for all the attempts at variety, it’s still hard to make a different sounding track while including the basic elements of the genre–offbeat drum slaps, arrhythmic, almost conversational vocals, and damn near the same beat every time. Grime, by definition, sounds almost the same.

With all this repetition, it’s a lucky thing that there are no “bad” songs on the compilation. Again, it has an album-like listening arc, so the Nas-sampling track “Can’t You See” by Klashnekoff, although little more than hip-hop with a British accent, doesn’t sound out of place. The relative conservatism of this song portrays grime as an evolving genre of its own, yet still indebted to hip-hop.

That said, the performances are for the most part impressive and novel. Although grime has its roots in hip-hop, I would not be surprised if musicians like Dizzee Rascal (probably the most famous grime artist) continue to take this music far beyond the scope of contemporary rap.

It is only a matter of time before some enterprising American producer waters down this sound and into a massive chart hit for a faceless dance-pop act, thereby blowing it up and clearing the genre for mainstream success. I’m looking forward to it.

—Staff writer J. Samuel Abbott can be reached at abbott@fas.harvard.edu.