Going Deep
Killer Mike lays it all out in his autobiographical solo album ‘Michael’
In early October, Killer Mike stood poised at the mic on stage at “The Tonight Show With Jimmy Fallon.” He was joined by acclaimed jazz pianist Robert Glasper and R&B singer Eryn Allen Kane for a stripped-down rendition of “Motherless,” a deeply visceral meditation on his grief after losing his mother and grandmother. “Is this a blessing or a curse, or just some other shit?” he choked through tears streaming down his face. “No matter what, I’m numb as fuck, ’cause I’m still motherless.”
It’s this type of bare vulnerability that supercharges “Michael,” the Atlanta rapper’s first solo outing in 11 years, which was released this past June. Throughout his decades-long career, Mike has evolved from scene-stealing turns on Outkast projects into a bona fide hip-hop foreman, threading his music with a nimble balance of personal and political perspective. It’s written all over “Michael,” which earned three 2024 Grammy nominations, and stands as an album that examines pockets of Black culture with a keen eye.
“I’m from an all-black enclave in Atlanta, so I write it from the African American experience,” says the 48-year-old. “But it’s very much an American experience. I remember being told while making this album, ‘You know you’re not a rapper anymore. You are a bluesman. You’re speaking the truth, and some hard truths.’ Even if I was a pastor, I wouldn’t be preaching at the people. I’d be preaching to be with the people, because this story of a 9-year-old kid who grew up on the west side of Atlanta is connecting with people that I never knew that shared similar life and experiences. But it’s good to know that it does.”
“Michael” marked a turning point for the rapper, who has spent the past decade as onehalf of Run the Jewels, an aggressive and often irreverent project with EL-P. The album plays like an exposed nerve, going deeper than ever before and serving as a testimonial of sorts, plumbing tales of growing up in Collier Heights with dexterity and clairvoyance. There’s a universality to his frame of mind, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise when the Grammy nominations were announced last month that Mike received three nods, one for best rap album and two for “Scientists & Engineers” featuring André 3000, Future and Eryn Allen Kane.
“When you look at a ‘Michael’ album, which is a gospel-based album, Southern Black experience, working-class album, then you get to see the audience [at concerts] and the audience is full of Black and white people of the working class,” he says. “So for me, I want to go into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as one-half of one of the greatest rap groups and as a solo artist. It’s something I needed to express. It’s art I needed to make before I die, and I’m glad I got about the business of doing it.”
To capture the aesthetic, he turned to No ID, the legendary producer who got his start working with Common in Chicago and helmed albums and songs for Jay-z, Kanye West and John Mayer. “Michael” possesses the same hunger and urgency as when most audiences first heard him back in 2001 as an inaugural guest on Outkast’s “The Whole World,” which earned him his only Grammy nomination until now. With No ID, he not only captured who he is at this point in his career, but also what he endured to get there.
“A lot of people will roll with me through my ups and downs for me to finally say, this is me,” he says. “Whatever the folk movement was in the ’60s and ’70s, whatever the Black power and soul movement was, I think we’re going to see more of that — where people are just saying the truth.”
I remember being told while making this album, ‘You know, you’re not a rapper anymore. You are a bluesman. You’re speaking the truth, and some hard truths.’ ” — Killer Mike