Brother Ali Stepped Out Of The 'Shadows,' And Into The Indie Rap Spotlight

Shadows On The Sun was, for many, the first introduction to Ali. He released Rites of Passage in 2000, though it was a cassette-only release and, as of this writing, is still unavailable on streaming services. So in walks Ali, whose albino skin and legal blindness has long made him one of the most distinct and unique characters in rap. While no one else in the game way back in ’03 looked anything like him, his appearance allowed him to mask himself in a kind of anonymity.

In a 2007 interview with Today, Ali explained how he would toy with his identity to avoid the crutches associated with being a white rapper. Despite being judged exclusively by the way his skin looked, he wasn’t always judged for being a white rapper. The distinction was crucial to his early work. In that interview, Ali explains, “I started sitting down for interviews and journalists would say, ‘Are you black or white?’ I’d ask them, ‘What do you think?’”

He went on to explain that he was an outcast in school, but felt more camaraderie with Black students than the white kids in class. “It’s not like black kids didn’t make fun of me, but it was different. It wasn’t done in a way to exclude me. It wasn’t done in a way to make me feel like not even a human being, not even a person.” From these relationships he found Islam and hip-hop, which would go on to become core tenets of his life. And while the way Brother Ali looks and sounds will never not be part of the story, all of his reckoning with his identity immediately crumbled away thanks to the skill with which he raps on Shadows. That’s not to say these things should become paramount for less skilled professionals, but when Brother Ali raps, it’s damn near impossible to focus on anything but the words.

From the outset of Shadows, Ali showcases a unique gift with which he’s been blessed. He’s a perennially great situational rapper. He can write from any context or perspective, and exists in a number of different styles and sounds. He tells stories, he talks shit, he cyphers, he does it all. His repertoire is endless, and throughout Shadows he shows off all the daggers he’s got in his arsenal.

On opener “Room with a View,” a horn-heavy and hard-hitting beat puts any backpackers on blast: Rhymesayers is doing things differently this time around. Scrunch your ears a little bit and you even hear some Just Blaze influence. Ali goes a little bit meta on the opener, rapping about what he sees from his window while writing his raps. It’s a brilliant conceit, and the sort of exercise prompt one might receive in a college creative writing course. This is no seminar fare, though. Ali laces his verses with urgency and incredible detail. He needs to convey the world he lives in, needs to share the world from which he’s found his voice.

He raps: “One side of the street is Malone’s Funeral Home and the other side, the library / Try very hard to picture this shit / Walk through where I live at / Where parents are embarrassed to tell you they raise they kids at.” Quoting the lyrics doesn’t do his delivery justice — he sounds like he might die if you don’t try to picture where he lives. The song ends with “I see all this from the desk that I write my rhymes from / Pen starts to scribble on its own, my mind’s numb / But you can call me modern urban Norman Rockwell / I paint a picture of the spot well.” In 2003, the painting is a Minneapolis corner detailed so vividly you could take a flight there and make your way around without a map or compass: Oh yeah, there’s the corner where the hoop dreamers ball with the blisters on their hands.

It’s not worth talking about Shadows On The Sun without bringing up “Forest Whitaker,” which remains the shining star in Brother Ali’s discography and quite possibly the best independent rap song released in 2003. The organ sample would put a smile on a toothless grinch. The blend of subtle conga accents and patient, melodic bassline emphasize how detail-oriented Ant is on the production. It’s an excellent beat made all-time by Ali’s aw-shucks delivery and brutal honesty. It’s a self-love anthem totally devoid of being saccharine or corny. It’s impossible to find one, two, or even four lines that accurately represent just how joyous this song is, but here is, for my money, the song’s best moment: “I’m knock-kneed and got a neck full of razor bumps / I’m not the classic profile of what the ladies want / You might think I’m depressed as can be / But when I look in the mirror, I see sexy ass me.” He’s right. On Shadows On The Sun, Brother Ali makes rapping sexy as hell.