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Breakups suck. They’re awkward, occasionally messy, often fraught with difference, usually devastating. The transitional space between having and losing, much like any other liminal state, is weird, scary and a little uncanny. Human beings are notoriously change-avoidant, so the hesitation to live with such a development is innate. It’s an ironic aspect to the human condition, as periods of change are also inevitable for everyone. One of the many ways the universe balances itself out, I suppose. Breakups tend to arrive with a set of logical fallacies amidst the coping mechanisms too. The sunk-cost response, for instance, sees us lament on an apparent loss of time. The effort and attention we put into a relationship is nulled purely because it has concluded. These thought patterns tend to be rife with dissonance, and highlight shortcomings in reasoning that may have led to the split in the first place. Oh well, remember that for next time, right?
Imagine though, if you will, a breakup so substantial, so all-consuming, that its occurrence is totally unavoidable. Cosmic forces succeed in manipulating your respective behaviours, and no matter what you do, the entire thing is… well, you see the title of the record up there. This seems to be the general concept of Open Mike Eagle’s latest offering with abstract beatmaker extraordinaire Kenny Segal. It’s taking a singular event of grief, of tension, and stretching it to the furthest points of our known universe. Mike Eagle warps this failed relationship into a kind of inter-dimensional absurdist black comedy. To quote the man himself, he’s “bout to get fly on this breakup shit”. The whimsical jazz rap of “Streets of Rage: Public Arguments Edition” sees Open Mike Eagle engaging in an arguably healthy dose of escapism. Drawing parallels between navigation in a video game to the actions and behaviours one can take in a relationship. “Tap ‘X’ to jump and hold ‘back’ to block” repeats like a mantra, a cycle of choices already treaded upon, the definition of insanity.
The title track not only encompasses the emptiness inherent to the post-breakup process, but it gets into and covers an array of breakup situations for good measure. Not just in romantic contexts, but business and industry, recreational, simply platonic. It’s Open Mike Eagle’s hilarious diatribe at the finish of the cut that brings us back around to a sense of acquired loneliness. “I saw Bugonia and Weapons by myself, that shit was ass”. Bars like “one-man superhero team, call me “Ex-Man” are perfect distillations of Mike Eagle’s emotional duality on this record. Not only are lines like this so silly that they’re endearing, but they brush up against lyrics on tracks like the closer “Watching a Movie Called Freedom by Myself”. “Ain’t no post-credits scene, we can all just leave” is a profoundly simple statement, yet totally communicates the release of finally letting go of something that was never destined to work. It brings the record a genuine sense of finality, complimented sweetly by an extended instrumental jam on the backend.
Look, reviewing an album like this thoroughly is nigh-on impossible, especially in the format I typically approach these reviews with. I like to keep things succinct, and the amount of highlights and layers Open Mike Eagle weaves into this project are challenging my whole approach. I wouldn’t be opposed to maybe even returning to this album later on and doing a retrospective. Tracks like “Science Fiction/Fantasy”, “The Irredeemable Magic Man”, “The Many Hustles of my Lonely Time Travelling Uncle” and “Schrödinger’s Green Room” are pregnant with fascinating analogous writing and thematic intricacies. Mike Eagle’s commitment to a concept like this, and his ability to see it right through to the end is unbelievable, especially when you consider how prolific he is. If you’re a jazz rap and abstract hip hop head, this is some essential 2026 listening, and is sure to rank highly for me come year’s end.
Dan Will Review 