Showbiz! doesn't rush or beg for attention. Like its creator, MIKE, it moves through space, always between cities, thoughts, and eras. The Brooklyn-based, London-raised wanderer has built a career on steady pacing while the world around him spins out of control. Showbiz! is another chapter in this. Drifting between boom-bap nostalgia and impressionist soul, it moves in fragments, never staying in one place too long but always hitting when it matters.

While many of his peers chase virality, MIKE's spent the last few years building a community-based creative ecosystem, with his label 10k supporting artists like Niontay, Anysia Kim, and JADASEA. He is also a breakneck-speed artist, dropping six projects in little over a year (including the stunning Burning Desire and Faith Is a Rock with Wiki and The Alchemist). Somehow, though, his growth has been controlled but on Showbiz! he's expanded without diluting his sound. Where Burning Desire was fractured and danceable, this moves like an apparition of a dancefloor rather than the dance itself, with rhythms and rhymes lurking under layers of dust and static.

MIKE is ten albums deep now, and he still raps like he's talking to himself. Half-asleep but locked in, his voice floats over the beats. His bars don't explicitly announce themselves; they slip in like a straggler sneaking onto a crowded train. But on Showbiz! he's a little sharper, a little more animated. On man in the mirror, MIKE's cadence officially picks up, explaining, “I know death for every man, but I’ll flirt with her / I’m just talking to the man in the blurred mirror / How come when I’m off the drank when my words clearer”. Belly 1 sees him threading words together faster, like the thoughts are spilling out quicker than he can stop them.

Lyrically, he's still MIKE—poetic but never preachy. He touches on Afrocentrism, mental exhaustion, fleeting joy, and survival without ever demanding self-pity. On Then we could be free.., he takes a fleeting approach to his verse and reflects on his approach to music in his life ("I'm tryna put a bang to the beat, guess it's ageing / I'm learning 'bout restraint and release, save me") before stepping back and letting the groove take over. On Da Roc, he offers another hushed, measured revelation: "This life I'm livin' unholy, I ain't no prophet" Same goes for #82—a wandering stream-of-consciousness punctuated by snippets of conversation, a Japanese voice sample cutting through like from another life. On Bear Trap, the ever-so-faint bassline anchors his low, syrupy words, the drums so buried they feel like they might slip away at any second. You’re the Only One Watching hones in on grieving his mother: “When I pray, I pray for Gaza and for Tigray, When I pray, I pray to mama....”

Besides honest lyrical prowess, Showbiz! also proves how deeply embedded MIKE is in the production itself. He's always had an ear for loops and warped soul samples, but the beats feel more like living rooms than backyards here. Embodying a producer-first mentality that has shaped his last few projects, his rap bends to fit the curvature of each sample on tracks, often featuring minimal drums. Showbiz! (Intro) feels like it could explode into garage house, but MIKE keeps it submerged, teasing a rhythm that never entirely breaks through the filters. In contrast, Zombie Pt. 2, produced by Brainfeeder's Salami Rose Joe Louis, feels more structured, with MIKE's raps falling into more defined patterns.

MIKE has always drawn comparisons to MF DOOM and J Dilla—DOOM's abstract phrasing, Dilla's unquantized swing. But Showbiz! feels closer to Roc Marciano, where the beats are skeletal, and the voice becomes another instrument (oddly enough, there's some of 21 Savage's deliberate murmur in there, too). There's also a bit of Madlib's mad scientist as MIKE stretches and smudges samples until they feel completely new. But where Roc Marciano uses this space to flex, MIKE turns it into a journal entry for those who leave voicemails they never send.

Showbiz! isn't a loud album; it lingers and drifts while listeners drift alongside. It feels lived-in with MIKE trying to make sense of the world without pretending they have all the answers. It's the sound of a mind in transit.