shabbvangogh [New Noise #026]

shabbvangogh - Mike Shabb

Montreal? Not exactly the summer field trip you dreamed of. After some delinquent behaviour involving an old barn a can of hairspray and some matches, your mom decided your summer would be spoken for in a French Immersion program.

The 9-week session was coming to a close, and the big pay off was to spend a day in the Canadian cultural hub of Montreal. Museums and poutine, tourist stuff - not your vibe.

Luckily weeks ahead of time while you were skating with your cousin it came out in the chop sesh and he had connected you to one of his homies, get a proper "tour" of the place.

All you had to do was slip away.

Stepping off of "L'autoubus" the vice principal lines you up for a head count. You stand your turn, then moments after as the class heads for the "Musée de la Sauce" you offer some local your hat, jacket, vape and well - a free museum tour. Some type of bohémian, he finds humor in the exchange and agrees to play the part of the tourist in your stead.

You slide over to "20XX" on St Laurent Boulevard to meet your cousin's homie.

[breakadawn 0:00]

Drum fills pound out of a second story window into the busy street, adding an extra layer of life while a piano punctuates the stuttered rhythms.

The vocals kick in wrapping the whole concoction in a casual confidence [MIKE SHABB 0:15]

"I made that money turn green red brown blue

I f*$% my b!tch after that i'ma need a round two

....

why you know so much about me I was never round you"

monopoly money

Just then the MC pops his head out the window. He eyes you and nods knowingly. In a flash he's down at the main level with you.

A quick dap and you're on your way....somewhere.

Without payin much mind to you directly he keeps going, almost helplessly in rhyme:

"I was makin money off rap even when I was broke

I was drawn to makin beats more than baggin up dope

youngins' lookin up to me I was really a hood punk....

My b*tch thicker than a pit bull"

His delivery so casual it's hard to tell if he's just talking or like, s p i t t i n g .

You decide it's a vibe and continue plumbing into the depths of the city as the smoke is passed between you.

The marching tempo quickly slows as Mike focuses in at an assuming streetside bistro with the open front:

UNDERGROUND LEGEND

You follow his lead and slide into the mélee.

[UNDERGROUND LEGEND 0:00]

It's some sort of hybrid jazz freak out jam session. The piano player is bopping like a trauma patient making strange echoes with her vocal folds.

The stand up bass appears to be playing itself while Mike throws up a peace sign to the band and addresses the Public Address system to nobody's protest.

"First sale was like two bags

I went and bought me a new match

....finesse a N%$$A on a boof pack"

The crowd kicks it up response. Drinks fly into the air, the dance floor turning spiritual almost, and there is even a guy on a unicycle.

"I got way more than 10,000 hours at this sh!t

homie a real true master

I feel like RZA when he did C.R.E.A.M.

NBA 2K my shots stay green

Underground Legend f*ck a big screen"

The crowd basically overtakes the small stage at this point cheering and dapping each other and Mike Shabb up like some collective climax just happened.

He slides the bartender a colorful bill, in return two shot glasses of mystère du soss. A silent cheers, down the hatch, a fuzzy warm feeling and you take off into the streets again.

"4:00 O' CLOCK?" the clock on your phone almost screamed off the screen. Sh!t, you had to get back. You explain the conundrum to Mike and he smiles some.

"Few blocks that way kid, good hangs"

He slides out an i-pod mini and hands it to you with a gifting energy before throwing up a peace sign and fading into the cacophony where he emerged from.

You, got about zero minutes to make it 3 major blocks from here so you hop aboard the two-feet and a heartbeat express.

it means "running"

Needing every bit of energy you can muster you pop the wired buds in and hit play on something called "shabbavangogh"

[ROPE 0:00]

A gooey soul harmony repeats in a rhythmic chop. Drums pitter patter while the guitars flitter flutter.

"I see my daddy cry on his birthday

three days later left me in my worst space

suicide rope around a mothaf#%^ neck"

Your feet levitate a half inch and glide through the busy blocks of the cosmopolitan city.

The vibe is immaculate, raw. The images of the afternoon flicker in your mind - the busy streets, the underground jam, the lyrics to this song, it feels like you walked through a gallery, no, experienced the art.....

Weezing like a 90s alt rock band you arrive back to the "Musée de la Sauce" just in time to slide land in line to return to L'autobus and begin the journey home. You let the album play on repeat and text your cousin:

"Thanks G"

Step into the gallery and listen to shabbvangogh by Mike Shabb HERE