AKAI SOLO Demands the Spotlight on Spirit Roaming

Graphic by Karenna Umscheid

By Parker Bennett

With the release of his latest album Spirit Roaming, 27 year-old Brooklyn rapper AKAI SOLO is finally getting the recognition he deserves. Since first coming onto the scene, AKAI has had his feet firmly rooted in the rising indie rap sphere, spearheaded by acts like MIKE and personified for most listeners by Earl Sweatshirt’s Some Rap Songs (2018). While there’s yet to be a term that defines these artists’ specific sound, there’s definite indicators that AKAI and his peers tend to stick to: free-flowing cadences, abstract lyricism, and fuzzy, drumless production. While AKAI’s fellows (and frequent collaborators) like Pink Siifu and Navy Blue have seen critical success and burgeoning recognition for their work, AKAI has been sorely underrepresented, and tragically un-championed by the fanbases of underground hip-hop. Luckily, he signed a record deal with alternative rap legend Billy Woods’ label, Backwoodz Studios, in 2021, and Spirit Roaming has received some proper marketing and buzz as a result. 

The past few years have seen AKAI SOLO (an acronym standing for Ascended Killer Absolving Ignorance Souls Of Lords Omniscient) on a spree of producer collab tapes, teaming up with the likes of Navy Blue, Pink Siifu, iblss, and BSTFRND for project after project of abstract rap greatness. Spirit Roaming sees him returning to a more traditional solo album format, featuring production from a wide array of producers, and only a single feature from fellow Backwoodz signees, and founders, Armand Hammer. Over the course of its forty-three minute runtime, Spirit Roaming is undoubtedly a SOLO show, and serves as an ideal introduction to anyone who’s unfamiliar with his work. 

The album opens with “Cudi,” a reference to Kid Cudi, who along with name dropping later in the track, AKAI has also named as a major influence, and the world of AKAI SOLO is unfolded in all of its unassuming brilliance. Following an uncredited sample of a speech on the difficulties of working without self-assurance, the beat lurches to a life with a flurry of dusty drum hits and pitch shifted piano stabs. It’s a soundscape buried in low-fidelity and fuzz, but AKAI’s vocals come through like a knife and carve out a flow that’s utterly unpredictable. His vocal delivery is raw, often interrupted by breath catches and rambling rhyme schemes, and it’s entirely captivating. Lyrically, his writing is razor sharp, and unfurls a muddy picture of artistic struggles, interpersonal relationships, and ruminations on the past. Lyrics like “If it wasn’t for Cudi I never would’ve heard David Guetta” are instantly memorable, and simultaneously conjure a specific image of mid 2000’s music listening that emboldens AKAI’s presence and makes his abstractions strike a chord like only the best writers can. 

With his general style established, the rest of Spirit Roaming continues in a similar fashion to “Cudi.” That’s not to say that anything here is repetitive; despite painting within very similar sonic palettes, AKAI continuously finds flows and production that keep each song feeling fresh and engaging. “Mob Psycho 100” features a darkly jaunting beat from up-and-comer TwentyFifthNight, which lopes along through a warping vocal chop that provides the foundation for jittery drum fills. AKAI raps with a barrage of lyrical density, which slowly evolves into a half-yelled assault (“Your mob lacks bark, I know some dogs that’s actually psycho, I’m one of them!”). He acknowledges the escalation in a spoken outro: “I got mad passionate at the end… This is all part of it, this is character.” It’s moments like these, a commitment to unfiltered vulnerability, that make AKAI’s music so special, and allow for an emotional release that truly earns its catharsis. 

After the brief interlude of “Jyu Viole Grace,” a reference to the anime series Tower of God, “For a Few” hooks AKAI up with a swirling, jazz-centric beat produced by underground producer WifiGawd, where he spits muttered ruminations on his relationships with those around him, his music, and the world at large. “Demonslayer” (another anime reference) slows the tempo some and showcases a melancholic beat that AKAI rides with languid delivery. “Driftman” is a track that toes an unprecedented line between down-trodden and epic, where your interpretation of the dirge-like mood will depend on your interpretation of AKAI’s further anime references, DOOM acknowledgements, and metaphorical middle-fingers. 

The album’s last four tracks showcase a murderer’s row of well-established production talent and include some of the most prominent names in the current scene of underground hip-hop. The August Fanon produced “The Weakest Crest,” is a brief collage of nocturnal jazz stylings that comes through without the low-fidelity fuzz that has defined most of the album’s music thus far, and sees AKAI in some of his most out-of-the-box pockets, doing lyrical gymnastics in every open space the beat provides. “Red Butterfly” is a gorgeously orchestral affair produced by Preservation—most well-known for his recent collaboration with Billy Woods on Aethiopes—and features flourishes of dramatic drum-work, enchanting choruses, and gentle horn sections. Animoss, best-known for Hermit and the Recluse, his duo with Ka, cooks up a bizarrely addictive beat on “Iron Galaxy,” and AKAI rises to the challenge with a head-bopping flow that offers some of the best quotables of the project: “You’re not next to me, rather beside yourself.”

The entire album culminates in “Upper Room,” a stunning collaboration with Armand Hammer (Billy Woods and E L U C I D) as well as Messiah Muzik, who produced the entirety of Billy Woods’ other album this year, Church. As the founder of Backwoodz Studios and an undeniable leader in the underground, Woods’ appearance here feels like a symbolic passing of the torch to AKAI. All three MC’s spit detailed depictions of loss, tragedy, and grief, and this combined with a gorgeously gentle instrumental makes for a conclusion that might cause more than a few tears to fall. If you’re a fan of alternative hip-hop and have yet to hear Armand Hammer, exit out of this review right now and listen to their entire discography. The literary complexity that Billy Woods and E L U C I D bring to every single track is an unprecedented feat that redefines the “lyrical” rap label forever, and is something that needs to be heard to be believed. (“When Daddy died, Mama put pillows in his place” literally body-slammed my soul).

Despite his collaborators being worthy of praise and discussion, Spirit Roaming is still very much AKAI SOLO’s album. Even in the face of two certified legends on “Upper Room,” AKAI holds his own and firmly cements his credibility as one of the most exciting figures in the indie scene right now. He lassos 14 tracks by himself, and carries them with the deftness and charisma of a rapper twice his notoriety (and probably half his talent). Through the swirling mass of thought-provoking introspections, vivid imagery, and anime references, AKAI’s voice shines as a beacon of current hip-hop excellence, and leaves no question as to how much potential he and his music hold.