By SUNEZ aka #SkillastratorLO

An album came along right when I was debating the merits of Denim and Supply
Before the Chiefs disbanded and fabrics caught slogans of graft and gentrify
Song after song without the false exclamations
You know, where the suitors of desire feel dem exalted, 
vicariously hymning along with jigga sutras
of masturbating in money pits
and tossing away rampaged clits

So what’s a hit? The song that everyone sang or the song of substance you’ll find years from now? That is, substances like real minerals of poetic illness, the sickness of stanza’d dexterity and infected with sound surround for all real times. Am I ruining the power of the pale popper by refusing to let craft work sound off silently in the night? I would hope so as I will it that way. Cyrus Malachi, one of the essential MCs of this era. Perfectly influenced by the MCs that don’t rhyme anymore and still bar some more. Another record, a longer legacy is all I’m building on here…

If I am ever seen as a poet it is because poetry is a study I have edutained my life with. At the peak of that list of poets of worth, the grit to make fantastical talents still convey the merciless realities we cannot escape. All while still at the edges of verbose with the entire palette of lettered dexterity where we can appreciate the beauty of verbatim before we must accept the truths of the verses. I cannot write about the projects of my brother across the waters without making that knowledge born. He turns the simplest choruses into an atmosphere of conflicting mosaics. The hell of the gunmetal, ash and concrete greys that plow over our lovelier minds of forest, cardinal and Original people shades. Orating through his imposing baritone, his clarity articulates over a thickened bass groove and singular guitar licks picked, “Fields of neon, mesmerized in twilight/ I gave the blinded eyesight/ As the heavens precipitate over the seascape beneath the sky sight/ Our lies are dried up in fire night/ I rehydrate like Dioralyte…” Truly the “Basquiat of this rap shit…,” The Blind Watchmaker is a simple truth, a lengthening of a peak that ran through the entire 2010s. “Crafted with an egregious focus on skill…from the meridian source that I invoke with my quill, the oral traditions of the Gold Coast/ I appear stoic and calm like the humble beginnings of Joaquin Guzman on his first opium farm before he saw visions of the driven snow..”

The God got some music that goes past the cloaks of the industry
And floating hoaxes like hustle cycles of drug dealers
turned rappers
turned industry sages
turned health advocates
turned lifestyle gurus
turned true and living…
Wonder what mystery will they elect next?
Flying discs, soaring cassettes and rotating vinyls–
Oh my!
Overjoyed when I get the work of the others
Left criminally invisible, such a renaissance
My brother with another fulfilled finale of innervisions
Words rhythmed on drums,
Running time fluctuates from rewinds
Take me away from my quarter century violence of
journalizing while embittered

And from here to and through “Sicarios,” the intensity of his lyricism goes from poems of poetry to tirades of battle bars, “…split wigs, bloody puddles, soak em up, medal of valor, the smell of cadaver, building on my body count, full mount, rain down elbows, as hell froze I’m in the hood like hellholes…” The violence on this record is astonishingly shocking. From a life of fighting oppression, the chronicling if it as a historian and the listening of hundreds of thousands of songs from our young, talented and Black, Cyrus uses the explicitness of hell’s psychological details to reveal the mandate of righteousness we must learn toward like no other. “Murder From A Memoir” isn’t horrorcore but documentary of a mindset that intrigues to Cyrus’s talent to venture into such songmaking that truly can cause trouble to its creator’s own sanity and yet when achieved can show us why wrong is wrong. The wrong he beautifully essays, through “Knights of Maltas,” “…High stakes financial tarantulas/ Nation states surrendering their sovereignty/ tectonic plates moving constantly/ commercial trollers pillaging the scenes/ privatized loggers cutting down the trees/ internet bloggers stuffing us with sleaze/ the monetization of disease/ GMOs pick farmers who Big Pharma/ worldwide like Sinatra/ the threat of nuclear disaster/ the dawn of A.I., robots and drones, androids and clones/ 3D fabrication of dead zones/ augmentation of flesh and bone/ the possibility of cyborg/ these skyscrapers are eye sores/ megalithic glass structure/ symbolic of the power structure/ foreign investment and affordable housing met with resentment/ vacant apartments made empty, built for the gentry while the common man suffers in this world of plenty…”

CYRUS MALACHI - THE BLIND WATCHMAKER LP Review“…while the common man suffers in this world of plenty…” we have these additional songs of redemption that define Cyrus backed by beats with no pop melodic remorse digging in like “claws stuffed in your mandible.” The production from DJ Drinks & Evil Ed is filled with realms of thought in the basslines like the ‘And? So.’ up down shift on “Brave New World,” the eye opening keys chimed right on the groove of “Talisman,” or the muscle grumble of bass on “Maroons,” the thickness of this record epitomizes the subtle brilliance that this record contains. There are no mistakes, every record is a peak of poetic prose to be explored and the music engulfs the verses like the crossguards on butterfly swords, letting one hear the power of the lyric or swivel into the addiction of the breakbeating bass. Cyrus in this next decade of this #InvisibleRenaissance becoming an epoch, his vocals are ever matured into a baritone mastery of clarity and winding extension through the most deafening of breaks, his pacing is emotes intensity and his dexterity has increased allowing an advancing of the layered verse.

As the entire catalog of Cyrus Malachi, there will be thrilling arguments for the novice of 2050 on where they shall begin their collection of this MC great. Starting here blindly, I know they will stop to watch in amazement at it’s maker.

See, I been trying to say,
the wicked been put to rest,
Cyrus verse in the east,
Sunez tell it to the north, south and west
Not sure when I made this but I know it got did
I didn’t see the time but I saw it happen
It won’t be seen by those who may love it
But timed to perfection for babies tucked in woven pillows.
Blind watchmakers to the world that see us create inside our own works

Sunez Allah aka #SkillastratorLO of the LO LIFES

The organization of these principles around a counterculture, an expressive arts of creation that uplifts the ideas and thoughts of an oppressed people, is why I’m an honored builder amongst legends, knighted by heroes of Medina (Rakim Supreme Shabazz Allah/Rudy Lo, Thirstin Howl the 3rd, Bonz Malone) to further create in my element as a Hip Hop Writer (creative author/principled journalist/honoring historian) of #ArtOnArt & #ScienceOnMusic. So the world may find love that locks in with the action of loyalty though they may never find another writer with my kind of grammar…


Living and sharing the pillars of:




Peace, Sunez Allah

aka #SkillastratorLO