Lese Majesty: best of 2015

A well-written retelling of his experience of the LP by Brent Ables for Coke Machine Glow. A lot of people weren't ready for LM and claimed it wasn't as good as Black Up. I don't understand that- it was a much more expansive, cohesive, greater album. But some publications, like Newsweek, The Guardian, Rap Reviews, and the CMJ could could handle it. Listening to Ish's new music for the first time is an experience somewhat akin to reading a Borges story for the first time... too strong for many. Repeated doses however do clear up any remaining symptoms of confusion.

Best Piece on Lese Majesty Yet

A fellow musician pens a glittering prose essay on Ish's latest masterpiece. Poetry. Dense and profound. Worthy of its subject.

Rafiq Bhatia (SonLux) Talks Shabazz Palaces' Lese Majesty

Lese Majesty Review

This review is in accordance with my sentiments. If you don't already know, NPR is streaming it as of today but u really need to pre-order this from Sub Pop and get the limited edition 7 "Palace Slide" free.

live show review from philly

image via stmruss

read original here or read on:

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Ten Things We Saw and Learned at the Shabazz Palaces Show Last Night

By Beth Stollman

Many things happened in the world last night. For example, ten thousand freelance writers blew their brains out after submitting their taxes. We didn’t do that. We were at the Shabazz Palaces concert at The Blockley. A band opened for the Seattle rap project, but we don’t know who that band was. And there was a headlining band, but their name is too complicated for us to write this early in the morning. Here are 10 things we saw, heard and learned.

1. Philadelphian King Britt, who used to DJ for Shabazz boss Ishmael Butler a.k.a. Butterfly’s old group Digable Planets, was DJing when we walked in at about 9:30pm. He was kicking a Stereolab tune.

2. Make Major Moves ain’t a gossip rag, but there were some local music celebs in the building. We spotted South Philly rapper Lushlife, and Butler’s Digable Planets comrade Cee Knowledge a.k.a. Doodlebug. (We were hoping for an on-stage reunion, but that didn’t happen.) We also spotted some members of a very prestigious Philly rock band, but we don’t want to blow their covers. Let’s just say we saw members of the band “Woman Woman” enjoying the show. There were others, but we’re not saying who. You should’ve been there.

3. Butler a.k.a. Palaceer Lazaro was rapping and pushing buttons on a sampler and a Mac. He was joined onstage by Shabazz partner Tendai ‘Baba’ Maraire, who is the son of Zimbabwean mbira master Dumisani Maraire. Baba was kicking a mbira, a drum kit, some small percussion instruments and adding back-up vocals.

4. The duo doesn’t perform songs quite like the recorded versions you may be familiar with from the albums Shabazz Palaces, Of Light and Black Up. There’s an improvisational element, and the tunes are radically expanded, provided even more space to sprawl, lounge, linger, drift, meditate, elevate. Songs begin, vanish, merge into other songs, and then other songs, and then the song that began begins again. The experience is somewhat similar to Black Up’s “Are you… Can you… Were you..?” in which three movements develop across a single track. But this was different, as tracks unexpectedly evolved into other tracks. Tracks on tracks on tracks. It was dreamlike. Like a Terry Malick flick. Like too much Nyquil for breakfast.

5. Rap concerts are normally terrible if you go for the music and not for the party. This is what happens at about 85% of the ones we go to: a DJ plays the recorded version of a song and a rapper raps over it. But the DJ doesn’t just play the instrumental, s/he plays the recorded version with the vocals included. So the rapper is rapping over her/himself. It’s disgusting. It shows us that the rapper cannot rap live the way s/he does on wax. Lazaro doesn’t do this. He raps live. There’s no track playing in the back. The instrumentation–some samples, some acoustic, some electronic–is all happening live. And since, as mentioned above, there’s a spontaneous element introduced to the performance such that the songs structurally shift in unpredictable ways, that weak shit most rappers display is not even possible for Shabazz.

6. Many rap fans don’t dig Shabazz Palaces. Namely because the music is so goddamn strange. It doesn’t quite fit into the mold of Lex Luger maximalism or “Rack City” minimalism. It doesn’t sound like anything on rap radio. It’s out. And, as a consequence, Lazaro isn’t given the props he deserves on the mic. While meditating deeply on Lazaro’s lyrics during the performance, we were reminded of a comment Philly rapper Zilla Rocca made on music blog Passion Of The Weiss about him. “Ish is fucking gangster,” wrote Zilla. “You don’t have to like the music behind Shabazz Palaces, but if you write down Ish’s lyrics and put them over Rick Ross beats, you’d understand the slickness.” It’s true. Put Lazaro over a Luger trap-beat, and he’d sound harder than Gunplay. But we prefer him spitting over his own bizarre beats and textures, which sound much more interesting than all that radio rap shat.

7. Something we didn’t expect to happen happened a few times. Lazaro and Baba had worked out some synchronized dance moves, and every once in a while they’d clap and sway in unison.

8. See that photo up there? ^^ I took that. Holler at me if you wanna hire me to shoot your wedding.

9. One of the highlights of the roughly 35 minute set was “An echo from the hosts that profess infinitum.” Baba kicked an extended mbira jam, gradually building up a series of melodies above a heavy, but minimal, bass line. (Oh yeah, that reminds us, the bass was fucked at The Blockley. It sounded like a speaker blew pretty early in the night.)

10. Another banger was “Chuch” from Of Light. This is one of Shabazz’s hardest tunes. Lazaro rapped ferociously over Baba’s rhythms: “Ever since the ships came, we kicked slick game make name mistake the claim, and never ever ever tame, and stay way fresher than the ‘presser.” And what do they call that? “Survival with style,” goes the chorus. Think about it.

–Elliott Sharp wants you to follow him on Twitter @Elliott Sharp.

CRITICS DELIGHT I : national print publicationz

So a few years has passed and Ish has released another classic album. The strange thing is, that this time all the critics seems to 'get it' too. That might have happened with Reachin' (a new refutation of time and space) but it definitely didn't with Blowout Comb (at the time anyway) or Bright Black. Of course, Eagles Soar, Oil Flows and The Seven New weren't promoted anyway. I'd gotten so used to the larger media's ability to somehow ignore the output of one of the most original voices in modern music that the tsunami of critical praise over Black Up left me a bit startled (as did listening to the LP itself). Life surprises. In this post I'm sharing some national (USA) print publications' reviews of Black Up:

ROLLING STONE gives it 4 out of 5 stars, and concludes that "we have no choice but to be compelled"

FILTER MAGAZINE gave it 88% and proclaiming that "Shabazz Palaces have truly arrived"

THE L.A. TIMES also gave it 4/5 stars, adding: "Like the Tribe of Shabazz from whom they take their name, Shabazz Palaces is the sound of survival, inured against extreme climate, adamantine as diamond clusters, and levitative as any insect."

THE NEW YORK TIMES breathes a sigh of relief: "Yes, hip-hop still has an audacious progressive fringe. "

Show Review: Santos Party House, NYC, 12 May 2011 (with Thee Satisfaction)

A guest review from the pen of Crooklynite artist Y. Misdaq aka Yoshi!! (photos by Eric Phipps):

This gig was an insult to anyone who wanted to hear something familiar. It was a slap in the face for anyone who wanted to be comforted with warm boredom. Ish’s lyrics may not have completely burst through the heavy bass of the speakers that line the walls of Santos Party House, but enough shiny nuggets passed through the void to assure familiar fans that the inspirational-heart, beating deep inside the million-styles-per-hour is still thriving-vibrant on the new LP. What more to say? It was an onslaught, with pleasure (pleasure, pleasure, pleasure).

It’s difficult to describe how impressive it is to see a man in such control of his throne. Ish stands behind a desk that was not there during the warm up acts moments before; a desk packed to the brim with electronic devices that are somehow all linked together. And this is not impressive in its own right. I have played a gig at Santos before with a troupe of electronica musicians who had almost as much gear. But to hear such finely crafted vocals linked up with those machines, those beats, those trillion-styles-per-hour, and to hear those beats and those flows linked up so nicely with the percussion, and to have ALL those elements the subject of momentary filters and effects that seem to rise from the kinetic of the moment, of the second... It is in line and fitting with what the 11th century philosopher Al-Ghazali said

In the [spiritual] worlds of Power & Royalty, things do not have the fixity we associate with rocks, mountains, tables etc. Rather, reality moves rapidly, shifting from moment to moment. Each single moment brings a new order of being on whose face is written an entirely new meaning... "Every moment He manifests himself in yet another (wondrous) way." [Qur'an, 55:29]

At the start of the show Ish would place his hand over a glowing red-light that created effects in relation to where he moved it. The sound was incredible, and embedded perfectly within the beat, both in terms of its timbre, texture and even its volume. And of course, it made him look like Ryu from Street Fighter 2 with a thunderball of sound emanating from within the palm of his hand. The vicious, merciless snares ripped through the air like jets, and yet they were kept under the control of the man behind the desk, like wild dogs at the total command of a master. It makes one respect the concept of hard work, the kind of work I know it must have taken to craft and polish such near-flawless execution. In this respect, gig is such a pathetic word, I have never much cared for it before. but here it seems even more insulting. Perhaps for some tired ageing rockers, gig is okay, but this performance should not be called a gig. It should be called Ice Ageless. Fire changes. A Returning. A Performance.

Such mastery makes one inspired and at the same time, completely intimidated (this is speaking as a musician with some basic understanding of shows, venues, electronic setups etc. I should like to think for other listeners, perhaps there exists only sheer escapism, with zero intimidation. This would make sense). All in all, between the two performers and the audience, it was a tri-symbiotic relationship of wild osmosis bordering on telepathy and resulting in black’d up manhood, in breathing bodies that are made to feel refreshed. Ready to run back out into the world with their own idea, fuel’d.



The beautifully choreographed moves of Ish and Tendai served as one such informant of that aforementioned heart beneath the music, they seemed to say, ‘if the music is too much for you, which we understand it might be, then we still want you to be involved on as many other levels as possible’. And so, periodically, despite their distance from each other, they would spin in perfect harmony, or clap hands on a snare slap, always repeated three or four times, because the beat always saves, and these beats are all about repetition of thunder, and power. Being saved by thunder feels great; and the hand-claps set to rhythm did indeed keep the audience involved. Everybody was feeling it, despite the multitudinous ways in which they showed it. There were numerous hip-hop heads, hoodied and all, who seemed too inhibited to do anything other than cooly bop from left to right (reacting as if this were a grimy Wu-Tang production from ’93!) and yet the very fact that they were bopping, and doing so non-stop throughout the entire show spoke of something very significant. Countless young (incredibly young) and curious people were there. Many young African-Americans. One could sense from their hip-clothes and earnest expressions that they were expecting something special, awaiting something to believe in. It sounds incredibly corny, and who knows if they found it, but for absolute sure, everybody was as blown away as I. Indeed, halfway through the set, some people, including myself, were no longer dancing like maniacs, but stunned and standing still, mouths hanging open. This happens when you are beaten over the head with the future.



Afterwards Ish came straight back out and we spoke for a very few nice moments. He sent a whatsup to brother O of this very blog. Most memorable however was the sheer enthusiasm. It had been 5 years since Ish had graciously invited brother O and I backstage at the Jazz Café in London where we spoke for a good hour or so about all new things under the sun. At that time, the digables were doing a reunion tour, and Ish still looked like very much like Butterfly. Things were awaiting then, time was building. This year, especially with his shaved-Palaceer head, Ish definitely looked much less Butterfly and much more the seasoned music veteran. And this year, along with last, when the world seems to be imploding, this music feels to be absolutely on point. Ish’s age, however, is the counterpoint of what so many remarked on after the show, to see someone in their 40s with such a commanding presence, radiating such pure youthful energy and power. It was part of what made the performance so surreal. What other words can one use but Hip-Hop? And Elemental? And Spirit? And indeed, this was what I found most remarkable about my brief exchange after the show.

At the side of the stage, which as I said, I know well, the audience are basically standing at eye-level with the feet of the performers. And there are black bars separating you. When he had come back out, Ish asked me, with the smile and enthusiasm that I recognize from an artist who knows he has just done a really good gig, ‘what did you think?’ And as I tried to convey, in blunted words that probably made no sense, what I felt, I saw a radiating smiling face, full of sweat, that was right next to my own, through the black bars. I do not know if he was literally lying down on the floor of the stage, or kneeling down, either way it seemed so very child-like. I was facing a pure, radiant smile of happiness and enthusiasm. And this face is the answer to the chorus of the song ‘Find out’. When an artist is expressing his art, and doing it to his perfection, the answer is this kind of happiness. This look of Life.

Ish’s grin, as I stumbled to get the right words out, was that of pure youth, belying age, experience, and belying what we think of as time. It finally spoke, in a categorical way, without words, of the need for us all to do what we love. Evoking, or kindling in all of us willing to listen, our natural ability to remain ageless. I frequent art modern exhibits in Chelsea from time to time, and I don’t know why I do because it is all so affected compared to this. There is no contemporary art I have come across as powerful and inspirational as this music. Find out what you are and free it.

SXSW 2011: reviews, photos, & footage

I've been in Denmark recently, it's been good for the soul. SXSW: All I can say is that I wish I was there. Funnily enough Gorilla vs Bear picked SP and Grimes as highlights and Grimes is my top new artist, check the music of the week entry recently to hear her track Devon. I'm going to see her live next thursday when she comes to play my hometown Brighton for the Great Escape Festival (Brighton's version of SXSW). But SXSW. I will be there one day, and hear 100 sph live. So here are some nice polaroids from GvsB by David Bartholow.

Classic shot below is by Joey Maloney for LA Times:

Finally some nice shots of SP and TheeSat by Diavid Lichterman.

Write ups flowed in abundance. Here are two from the LA Times and Pitchfork respectively. Rolling Stone said: "Ex-Digable Planet does impossibly funky, dubby avant-rap with shakers, kalimbas, ideas without boundaries. Truly a unique and wonderful mix that deserves to be one of sxsw 2010's breakout stars. Get Googling!"

Video too thanks to Trinity stardust blog:

Gunbeat Falls:


Hottabatch (Do it for my people):


new sneaks to rise jews the trap is

Noir Night Ship - reviews

'Shabazz Palaces and TheeSatisfaction's show at Neumos two weeks ago. A very cool, very black evening. I've never heard of a show like this before but nothing surprises me any more when it comes to freshness from The Source which is definitely what SP and TheeSat are connected to. As well as playing their music they made a chat show where Ish was this corny host and interviewed the ladies of TheeSat. It made me laugh reading that he asked "So... psychedelic space rap. How did you come up with that?" The pastiche of the clueless journalist armed with his abstract labels which he sticks on to the art at arm's length, not needing to get into the messy business of interacting with. Imagine if you made some music and then every time for the next twenty years that you came out with new stuff, you had to listen to the words "jazz rap" or "boho hip hop"?! Now as the wiser veteran, it's like he's baptising his spiritual children into the freakish world of the music industry. It's just too cool to comprehend. Anyway:
Trent Moorman penned a compact but artistic paragraph for The Stranger's music blog called "Line Out".

Joe Gustav from Seattle Show Gal website wrote a nice piece with an oddly cynical aftertaste

The excellent Eric Grandy from Seattle Weekly hits the spot again with his review, which concludes rightly that "they're only just warming up..."!

The Stranger's Line Out music blog also had Jason Baxter on the case, and his write up is also worthy of your attention.

Proving that there were very few non-journos in the crowd, Mike Ramos of the wonderfully named guerillacandy.com ruminated on the night, saying much the same as everyone else: it was astounding, next-level shit.

Finally, LB of Seattle Subsonic gives us another rave review, highlighting the contribution of TheeSat LB says the answer to a question about why Palaces is pluralised was laughed off on the night but in Lazaro's exclusive message to the Ishmaelites Weblog, he gives the lowdown on the band's name.

Photo galleries come courtesy of Alex Crick and Lucas Anderson.
The wicker chair is a reference to a famous Black Panther photo, which is another thing I've learned from all this Seattle music press I'm imbibing recently (good- introduced me to loads of good music)

And finally, check out Thee Satisfaction's amazing blog Black Weirdo for around twenty different promo posters they made for the event, one of which is this:

Seattle Capitol Hill Block Party I - Reviews

Eyewitnesses present testimony of SP's second sonic assault on Seattle.

-The Three Imaginary Girls blog said:

There have been criticisms and speculations that Shabazz Palaces' set was hampered by some struggling sound problems and that it should have been in a less airy, open environment. Due to the music being connected to metanoid images of relational decay and underground struggle, some reported they would have preferred the performance held at Neumos down the block instead of the main stage. I agree in theory, but performance just isn't about sound, it's about vibe. SP actually sound like they have a staggering root in hardcore communal scenes like DC's Go-Go and syncopated, anthemic groups such as King Sunny Ade and other Juju performers. Because they are as prophetically prayed for and prized as a band like The Clash in the early punk days, people have extremely high expectations. As for the sound, well, it was the first humungous show of the BP, and festivals always have early kinks to work out, so all eyes and ears were wide open to catch any flaw. The problem is, for their second show, Ishmael and his collective created music that was extremely hard for most bands at the CHBP to follow. Sour grapes, anyone? Props to the scheduling people for being so assertive and kicking things off atomically with SP.

-As for the Seattle Subsonic blog:

I kind of figured going in that Shabazz Palaces might end up TOTALLY RULING. And guess what, their sun-shrouded, mid-evening set TOTALLY RULED. It was the best thing I saw all day, and my day included U.S.F., Champagne Champagne, Mahjongg, and Holy Fuck. The mystical afro-centric output from these cloak-n-dagger rap wizards put his eminence (at this point, you have to use a word like that) Ishmael “Butterfly” Butler on full point in front of a full main stage crowd. People were overheard using exclamations like “Houdini” and “a modern Rick James” (probably due to the dark purple shirt unbuttoned halfway down Ish’s chest; FLY!). I wouldn’t necessarily advocate repeating those analogies to anyone, but I can understand their inception. If you’ve slept on Shabazz up until now, I highly suggest you rectify that because, with all due respect to Sir Mix-A-Lot, Vitamin D, the Blue Scholars or any other local hip-hoppers to make tall waves, Butler and his congo compadre Tendai Maraire have put such a magical and heretofore unfathomable spin on a tired genre, that it’s practically a crime if you don’t. High praise indeed, but it’s hard not be struck by Shabazz Palaces unique concoction of intelligent thuggery and wide, Central District-born worldviews, all presented with a modest Islamic militancy, window rattlin’ bass, and swirly, crazy-ass electro beats. I can only think of two other rap albums that I might place the 2 EPs Shabazz Palaces has produced before on my desert island hip-hop list (taste indicator: All Eyez On Me by Tupac and Life Is…Too Short by Too Short), and that wouldn’t even be a given at this point.

Ish’s voice did sound higher than normal (huffin’ that helium before his set?), which was mildly confusing/distracting, but the tightness of his cadence and the gravity of his mindset brought everything to the level. He seemed to fire more quickly than he does on record, and you could tell he was hyped, even if their stage presence in general seems subdued. It’s because they know they’re right. I can guarantee that the duo made many new fans yesterday. Local, deep-voiced Shabazz collaborator Dougie came onstage for his three cuts, and they even played three new songs, by my count.

-The Seattle Times' Andrew Matson wrote:

What was up with Palaceer Lazaro's vocals? Following a lengthy and (what looked like a) frustrating sound check, the auteur behind Central District avant-rap act Shabazz Palaces rapped into his microphone like normal but his voice came out thin and, to my ears, double-tracked and panned to the Main Stage speakers' peripheries. By contrast, percussionist/back-up vocalist Tendai Maraire's vocals came across full and centered. It was a shame because Lazaro is the best rapper in Seattle by roughly one billion miles, and one where details matter, where slight nuances in pronunciation reveal new rhythms and meanings.

He looked great, though, lips sneering, eyes alternatingly downcast and googly. Clothed in all-fuschia everything, with bright white high tops on his feet and a wooden medallion of dislocated angel wings around his neck, he was easily the best dressed Block Party performer all day.

Shabazz's set included songs from its 2009 "Shabazz Palaces" and "Of Light" micro-albums, with minor variations. The seething "Capitol 5" featured a gothic street verse from fellow Central District rapper Dougie, and its extended chant-style outro was excised and used earlier in the set as an interlude. "Find Out" and "Blastit" were notably excellent sounding, with the bass and drums on the former full of wow and crack, and Maraire's mbira on the latter supplying metallic texture.

Unreleased Shabazz songs saw the light of day, too. One had Lazaro chanting "Allahu Akbar" and freestyling over a boom-snap rhythm: "Tendai / stay fly." Another was a slow sweep with swooping bass lines; Maraire played shakers and cooed into his microphone while Butler Lazaro rapped something about being "All up in your system." Toward the end of the set came a new song built around a mantra: "Automatic push button remote control / synthetic genetic command your soul."

-Meanwhile, from the pen of Travis Hay of Ear Candy:

Shabazz Palaces had the thousands of people watching them enraptured by their non-traditional hip-hop beats and Ish Butler's distinctive flow. Initially I wasn't going to watch Shabazz Palaces because their set at Neumos in January was so epic that I didn't want to taint that experience but I am glad I did watch a solid 25 minutes of their CHBP set (which was only their second public performance in Seattle). Yes, I left Shabazz early to see Unnatural Helpers but I saw enough of Shabazz's set to affirm my belief that they are indeed the real deal and they produce the best hip-hop Seattle has ever seen.

-And finally, The Stranger's Brendan Kiley felt that

Shabazz Palaces Were a Great Way to Kick Off Block Party. They were. Best show of the weekend so far—and maybe best show of the weekend.

But their paranoid, claustrophobic sound works much better in a cave (like their legendary coming-out show at Neumos) than outdoors in the late afternoon.

Just saying.

Still, they did what they do with excellence and grace. And Ish can wear purple—not everybody can pull that off. And I had at least three conversations with people in the crowd who hadn't seen SP before, thought they were fantastic (even outside of a cave), and had no idea Ishmael had been a part of Digable Planets. And they listened with a whole new level of intensity.

Meaning: the legend continues. In the sunset.

Abercrombie and Fitchpork

Recently Pitchfork has been singing SP's praises, naming Hottabatch their favourite new song.

Then they delivered an interview with Lazaro, which was even nicer.

But then they showed their true colours and published an admiring but strikingly ignorant review of the albums. When I first read it I thought oh I've been away from 'trendy' sites like this for too long and this is some kind of ironical new way of writing that appears limitlessly simplistic and superficial. Nope. "No intelligent life here..."

On the upside, I then found a critique of the review in question by a writer whose blog is dedicated to reviews of Pitchfork reviews (seriously), and who has a low toleranace level for braindead writing. He doesn't appear to know SP's music or even to have heard them so imagine how much stronger his criticisms would be were he a fan. Over to him:

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"2. that review is better than the Shabazz Palaces review, which could not give you any less of a sense of how these records sound or what they’re about. for reasons i’m about to get into this review garners my rare and uncoveted Worst New Review!!! read it now if you haven’t yet.

the syntax is so stilted it’s uncomfortable, reads like an 11th-grader wrote it for a high school newspaper. like the only mention of lyrics is this: “Lazaro occasionally spits conscious verses about struggling and corruption, but he’s also not afraid to go all hardhead and talk tough. His lyrical subjects can be quotidian, frequently focusing on food and hanging out.” i’m not gonna address the meaningless-without-context, generic rap-oriented word choice in “not afraid to go all hardhead and talk tough”, but two records packed with raps and that’s all the preview we get? no quotes? are there any rhymes worthy of mention on this?

this sentence is retarded and is worst sentence in the whole review: “It’s clear that he wants his art to be taken seriously, and based on his output so far it certainly will.” who doesn’t want their art to be taken seriously? “Weird” Al Yankovic, David Hasslehoff? what the fuck kind of sentence is this? this is the 11th graderese i was talking about

and why is fitzmaurice insisting on refusing to let Palaceer Shabazz present himself the way he wants to? and NOT calling him by the name he’s asking to be called by? “Hopefully, Palaceer Lazaro— oh, fuck it, call him Ishmael” — nobody but Rick Ross still calls Diddy “Puff Daddy” and we certainly don’t call MF Doom “Zev Love X” so why be an asshole to this guy?

and then in the last paragraph, “reemergence doesn’t always guarantee eternal success, as Doom’s ever-unspooling narrative shows.” bro do you read pitchfork reviews or listen to Doom? you know his last full-length (from last year) got an 8.0? and his last EP (from this year) got a 7.2 (which is real high for any EP that’s not by animal collective)? how is DOOM unspooling? he’s been active and consistently putting out quality reords for years, i’d say he’s been among the MOST CONSISTENT presences in rap, given the volatility in the quality of work of even the highest-tier rappers. did any editors look at this review? man step your games up, it’s never too late in the day to shift this review down to the number 5 slot, or, like, replace it with whatever Tom Breihan has to say about the record

i never go in on a review like this but fuck this review"
-From Pitchfork Reviews Reviews
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