Age changes your definition of “home.” As your sphere of experience expands, you begin to understand that home isn’t just a warm bed, a room in a building, or a house on a block, but a feeling of being held, an inner glow sparked by embracing a loved one or hearing a familiar local accent. That’s the driving force behind MIKE’s latest project, the incisive, extraordinary Showbiz! It’s a portrait of a young man’s complicated search for a place to hang his hat, a quarter-life catharsis that’s both eager and apprehensive to approach the crossroads. The existential questions that have been a trademark of his work since 2017 remain, but there’s also a newfound, fire-seasoned wisdom: “Be patient, it ain’t every race that you lead,” he raps on “Then we could be free…”

MIKE spent his childhood shuffling between New Jersey, London, Philadelphia, and New York City, but home was always his mother, Anuoluwapo Sandra Akinboboye. The two shared a deep bond, and when she passed away in early 2019, MIKE plumbed the depths of his grief, trying to figure out where and to whom he belonged. In his early twenties, he forged a community with his label and collective 10k, and gained a legion of adoring followers (one appears at the end of “Da Roc” to express his love for MIKE: “Full glaze. I don’t care if I’m glazing,” he testifies). At this point in his career, MIKE spends chunks of each year on tour and devotes his time in New York to writing and recording. It’s a rambling life, one that weighs friendly faces in every city against the nagging anticipation of constant change.

Starting with 2022’s Beware of the Monkey, MIKE began uncurling. His music started to sound more assured, and by 2024’s Pinball, a full-length collaboration with producer Tony Seltzer, he was rapping with a fire in his belly, trading heartfelt examinations of depression for songs full of swagger and self-confidence. Showbiz! largely follows that path but tones down the fervor. MIKE’s raw immediacy is still there—most songs don’t have more than one verse—but this is not a step back into the shadows so much as a mindful reset. He roots himself in the here and now, treasuring every fleeting moment. “While you have it, you should cherish that/You won’t get it back,” he advises on “Lucky.” There’s a synthesis of his distinct modes, oscillating between delicate moments of presence, wherein MIKE analyzes his dreams or prays for peace, fleeting dips into depression, and blasts of triumphant, grinning shit-talk. Showbiz! celebrates that complexity, acknowledging that softness and strength often reinforce one another.

In a recent interview with Pitchfork, MIKE described the process of making records as world-building. Under the moniker dj blackpower, he turns chunky, off-kilter samples into Fraser spirals, loops that burrow rather than disintegrate. It’s a style MIKE developed by studying MF DOOM, and though he’s hesitant to declare himself as part of DOOM’s lineage, the touchstones are there: Both have deep, sleep-drunk baritones, an uncanny ability to string together unintuitive multisyllabic rhymes, and cadences that ooze like resin into the hollow spaces of a beat. There’s a deep interiority to their music, a sense of creativity not beholden to audience interest. That inward focus sometimes lumps MIKE in with introspective young rappers like Navy Blue and Demahjiae, and though he’s worked with some of them, MIKE’s work is a bit more dynamic. He considers himself a student of hip-hop, peeking into its history to push the margins of his idiosyncratic style; his flow on “Spun Out” sounds is reminiscent of what Memphis legend Playa Fly was doing in 1996, and he flexes a halting delivery on “Lost Scribe” that hints at a heavy Beanie Sigel phase. He’s not afraid to try on other sounds, including recent excursions into classic New York boom-bap, candy-coated drill, and lush, dreamy plugg.

MIKE extends that experimental streak on Showbiz!, stitching fresh ideas into his quilt of warped samples. He still handles the lion’s share of production, but taps folks like Laron, Salami Rose Joe Louis, and Surf Gang’s Harrison to flesh out the vision. It’s his most spiritual-sounding album, full of ’80s boogie bands pitch-shifted to resemble gospel choirs, reverberant saxophones reaching up to the heavens, and keyboards that shine like parting clouds at dawn. There are fascinating outliers, like a jagged DMV rhythm that stomps through the otherwise syrupy “What U Bouta Do?/A Star Was Born,” the sleek dub techno outro of “Spun Out,” or the enormous gated reverb drums that drop 20 seconds into “Lucky.” Showbiz! is psychedelia in the Donuts vein (there’s even a Dilla siren on “Burning House”), a vibrant patchwork of gnarled soul snippets and diaphanous pads that distort the familiar into new shapes.

Showbiz! feels like MIKE’s road trip album, its construction mirroring the tug-of-war inherent to a life of travel: You arrive in a new place and sink into its rhythm, but just as you get comfortable, it’s time to leave. His records have a diaristic quality, and this is no exception; though it was recorded between tours, these songs could be dispatches from the highway. But for the first time, the searching that’s colored his massive discography—for love, for tranquility, for answers to those heavy cosmic questions—seems as though it’s coming from a place of real stability; MIKE sounds more curious than concerned about what the future may hold. Showbiz! is the young artist’s greatest accomplishment thus far, the product of a passionate, creative journeyman fully making his home in music.