“SHIT FEEL LIKE 1993 AGAIN AND I WASNT EVEN BORN IN 1993😂‼️” Mike Shabb recently proclaimed. So many roads lead back to albums like Midnight Marauders, Doggystyle, and Enta Da Stage. We demand that young artists know their history, but sometimes you have to ask if they’re true disciples of the 36 Chambers or just greedy hirelings flipping “T.R.O.Y” or “O.P.P.” for C.R.E.A.M. It takes a certain gumbo of technique, knowledge, and skill to venerate the past without coming off like a tribute band. Leave it to a sound architect like Shabb to give up the goods on Sewaside IV, the latest entry in his album series reexploring one of hip-hop’s golden eras by expanding the conversation to East Montreal. Over 21 tracks, Shabb fuses dusty drums and warm bass tones with festive samples and Creepin on Ah Come Up bars that inject the upbeat production with tales of peril.
Sewaside IV’s production is a masterclass in filling negative space. Shabb’s ear for dub, jazz, and funk is aligned with the greats; their early sample stash came from their parents’ collections of records that sounded like this. But he’s not just snatching loops. Sewaside’s composition feels like a continuous meld of choice chops: guitar plucks on “Conehead!”; keys that channel “4,3,2,1” on “85.5FM”; the reverbed wails of “Leflaur Leflah!” In the best way possible, beats like “Montreal!” and “1,2,1,2” sound made to be played alongside grainy videos of Fresh Fest attendees dancing in jerky, frenetic frenzy.
No score yet, be the first to add.
While Shabb doesn’t dazzle with labyrinthine lyricism or rewind-worthy wordplay, his instincts and curiosity keep the project feeling fresh. On “Conehead!” he’s rapping with force, thrusting end rhyme at the listener like a Chronic-era Dr. Dre while rapping about life in jack mode, wearing the classic Champion hoodie: “This ain’t muthafuckin’ Rick Owens.” The next few songs offer the same fatalistic depictions of his side of Montreal. But just when that run of gritty songs treads on monotony, he offers the warm “Mike Shabb Getting Married” interlude, then sinews through “Leflaur Leflah!” and the Obijuan-featuring “Ring-a-Round!” with an effortless finesse.
His most impactful moments as an MC pair the traditionalist drums with modern cadences, bringing different eras into conversation. He slurs to a Veeze-like degree at the beginning of “Jack Mode!”, dissolving a flow often decried as rap’s downfall into a beat that those same purists can’t deny. And on “Montreal!”, “Imnotakiller!”, and the MIKE-featuring “Dontsweatit,” he displays the closest thing to his own signature flow, methodical and melodic while firmly rooted in rapping. On the latter track, he brings us up to date in more than one way, rapping, “I know niggas sellin’ guns and bricks on Telegram.”
Not every chance Shabb takes is a winner. The double rhymes on “1,2,1,2” (“All about money, money/No time to be funny, funny”) feel avocational after enough bars. And atop already whirling drum’n’bass percussion on “Disco Duck III,” his intriguing mesh of the DMV freecar flow with an intermittently sped-up delivery ultimately goes off the rails. These missteps, though, reflect the inevitable errors of a kind of experimentation that more rappers could try.
Even with the ’90s as the foundation, Sewaside IV is more than a retread. Shabb’s true-to-form production prowess pays proper homage to his heroes, but the subtle sonic choices (the gating effect on “Boom it up!”) and modern references (“bippin’” and Nike Tech on “Tales From Da Hood, Pt. 1”) bring things to 2026. And inviting MIKE, ANKHLEJOHN, Obijuan, and Rvlr Magz as guests (in lieu of ’90s stalwarts) showcases a quartet of modern MCs who are indebted to the past but, like him, forging new ground with that pedigree. On Sewaside IV, Shabb rebuffs the reductive compulsion to read hip-hop’s last rites. The beauty of the genre is that someone who wasn’t even born for a specific era can have us all living it again.
